Green Tea Wakeup

Bodhidharma is said to have been so committed to zazen that he cut off his eyelids in order to banish drowsiness. Where they fell, a tea bush sprouted.

Four days this week, I've gotten up early (3:30 a.m.), brewed some strong green tea, and gone to sit in the backyard zendo. My life is a silly luxury compared to what practitioners of the past have endured. But thanks to the noble truth of dukkha, there seems to be plenty of suffering and dissatisfaction in my realm. And always the possibility of meeting it with awareness.

I'm really getting the spit knocked out of me at work. So I am practicing with feeling frazzled, with the superficiality of the retail facade, and with feeling unseen and discounted. I'm feeling anger and argumentativeness arise, and I'm breathing down into the vulnerabilty that lies below. I don't know why I sit or where I'm going. But there I am in the zendo, breathing. And then crying, suddenly and silently, hours before dawn.

I'm slowly developing the faith that there are no coincidences; nothing "just happens" independently or randomly. Everything in the cosmos —including my thoughts and feelings—arises in dependence on myriad influences, known and unknown. The temporary idea that I am "no good": it arises from the myriad things, it exists. And if conditions allow, it passes away. Mercifully. So this phase of insult and bedragglement will pass, in time. Just karma; all karma.

Feeling challenged by overwork and unappreciation isn't the only topic on the syllabus. There's something, too, about gratitude, courage and love: in the past two days, I have interacted with two blind women, and with two women about my age (32) undergoing chemotherapy.

The cancer patients' hair looks just like mine. One is in graduate school. They both spent a lot of time (1-2 hours) in the store, really revelling in the shopping experience. And they bought stuff. Under the circumstances, buying a sexy dress or a fuzzy hat seems so poignant, symbolic, and brave. Especially the sexy dress.

I do not own any sexy dresses. But then I do not have cancer.

One of the blind women was also a customer. Her husband ranged through the store, picking out swishy skirts and silky tops for her to try on. He was happy, patient, and totally in love with her. After they had picked out a great outfit, the husband went looking for accessories. He found a silver "OM" pendant he thought she might like. He held it so that she could touch it, and he told her, "The stone is green. It's the color of green tea."