Relating to a Spiritual Teacher

In response to my allusion to Niall that "the relationship with a
teacher is usually thought to be some sort of metaphysical mystical
bond. I haven't found a teacher who I can study with in the way I want
to, with whom there is ALSO the mystical bond I assume must be there" my blood-cousin and brother in the dharma Ryushin had this to offer:

Ryushin: We were talking in the workshop this weekend about relationships and how in the West we fall in love and then decide that this is “the one.” Chozen was relating that in most other parts of the world it goes the other way. You are set up with someone, or somehow wind up with them, and through the actions of showing respect, appreciation, and love for them the feelings come. She actually said, “Feelings do not determine whether we are in love or not.” I found this a stunning statement. However, I agree.

So, with the intimate nature of a teacher student relationship I think the same can be said. I thought that I should have some mind blowing experience when I met “my teacher.” When I met Hogen he was sitting in his office on Larch Mountain over looking the Columbia Gorge. He turned around and greeted me with a bow. A moment later I was whisked off and met Chozen in her office in the house next door. A moment later I was being shown the garden and meeting Alison/Yuko. No fireworks.

There was a point where I realized that I would have to let go of my idea of what my experience was going to be like if I would ever let the universe teach me something. This can also be seen in the way that we treat certain objects sacredly and they become sacred, and others we don’t and they are considered ordinary or profane.


Naturally I had plenty to say in response and resonance.


Shugetsu: I think of the relationship with a teacher as analogous to a romantic relationship. You are asking to be seen, and you are vowing not to leave, and some very deep parts of the self are getting stirred. Through my own twisted karma, I am a bit of an expert in falling in love!

I've fallen in love so often that I don't necessarily consider having a strong initial psychic/emotional reaction to a person to necessarily indicate anything other than a strong psychic/emotional reaction! However, I do "recognize" certain people, and I've never been wrong: they've all been amazing companions on the path. There are also amazing friends who I did not initially "recognize," or fall in love with, or feel all woozy around.

And having of course psychic fireworks don't indicate you should be "with" a person. I've had some very strong psychic stuff happen with one teacher in particular, and to me it's reason enough to steer clear. And even though I "recognized" Hikari, and was happy with him for years, a romantic partnership really isn't right, given who we are now. And it wouldn't be, even if all obstacles were magically removed. (You wouldn't believe how long it took me to get that one figured
out.)

In November I went to the wedding of another ex boyfriend, Rajeev. It was an arranged marriage, and my first Hindu wedding. As you might imagine, the relationship was not established on passion, but the wedding was nevertheless a very sweet affair. Rajeev and Reema had established a mutual committment to a lifetime together, which they vowed to carry out. (Interestingly, the bride and groom made different vows, reflecting the practical differences in how power is historically distributed within a marriage. So the groom vows not to get angry if the bride goes back to her mother's house for a break
without telling him. And he promises to consult with her before purchasing any big-ticket items!)

The wedding was a turning point for me. I "got" it. Being as passions are unreliable, and even a profound psychic connection doesn't necessarily guarantee the suitability of a partnership, on what do we base our alliance? On shared vow.

But even though I put little stock in mystical meetings, there is still a mysterious sympathy that develops between people with a shared purpose. Being as humans are tender creatures, should there not be some spark of promise, some internal resonance that will allow me to work in very deep places, or at least be willing to be uncomfortable in this person's presence? There needn't been rainbows and birdsong, but there should be some sense that the ground is a fertile, so that what needs to come forth can do so in optimal circumstances. You wouldn't marry someone *only* because they are a good match on paper; what if you knew you could never love and trust them? Allying yourself with them would be counterproductive.

Basically, I'm looking for promising circumstances. Some ease of relating. And a vow I'm able to support. This is not to denigrate the Bays or their work in any way at all. In spite of faithful efforts on all sides, I just never felt that Great Vow was a place I could land. Others don't understand; to return to the arranged marriage metaphor, it's like a promising suitor not working out. But from the first, I knew I wasn't yet where I needed to be, and that's been a pretty constant certainty.

I am secretly fearful that nothing will ever satisfy, and that I will always feel some vague sense of unease. Lately some things have started feeling very right, though. In the past month, something has shifted, and I realize I am more than interested in ordination. It's where I'm going. Along similar lines, I am no longer averse to being married. It could be a very nice thing. Until now, I wasn't really ready for that level of committment. I think I'm a late bloomer in general!

Having No Future Thoughts

I've been exploring lately the committment I've made to Rob, and what keeping and violating it looks like.

Without getting into details, I’ll just say that it’s not working the way a long-term partnership should. And, given the option, wouldn’t it be better to turn one’s energy toward a promising life situation?

Nonetheless, last Fall Rob and I made a committment until late March. Unless there is some emergency of sanity, I intend to keep that commitment. Doing so is mostly an internal orientation. When I find I'm not really honoring it, it’s because I really think I know the answer (“no”) and am turning away and looking toward the next step– planning for the fabulous life that comes after this draining and infuriating and charming situation is behind me.

Staying true to the commitment means being willing to engage with yet another bizarre inexplicable crisis. With being open to a few days of blessed ease and humor. With just giving up on having any answer at all and not knowing what lies ahead.

And it’s not so bad; this is a precious and productive time, largely because it is finite. We’re certainly learning a great deal about our selves! A little bit of psychological insight goes a long way. Our basic understanding of subpersonalities, mostly through Voice Dialogue theory, has been priceless; without this perspective, the situation would have degenerated long ago.

There's no need to plan for Spring (or Summer, or thereafter) until this committment is through. And if I stay the course until then, I will almost certainly learn something I don't know now.

The Problem is...

...fancying yourself free from bias.

To Karmic Obstacles

I'm continuing to reflect on karma. To have karmic obstacles requires a sense of "self" to be obstructed. And so here I think I am.

One of the very tangible ways I've changed in the past few years is that when I feel ill, I just feel ill. In Lithuania I lay on a bed and vomited for two days. Last week, I had a very strong headache that lasted for days. And now my tummy is very unhappy.

I used to fret. Now I sit in the fog and surrender. This came from somewhere. And it will go away. And there's nothing but now, already past, the momentary fruition of previous karma. Of seeds too subtle and manifold to identify. But here I am, yearning and typing and breathing and hurting and shaking my head ruefully at something Chozen once said about vows.

Namely, that when a vow is made, the conditions that oppose it also come into being. They find form, begin to clatter their weapons and shout threats on the wind. They hoist their standards, array themselves in all their glory on a nearby ridge, and proceed to glare hungrily. And you find yourself thinking, "Shit, what have I gotten myself into?" Looking at that, a writhing stomach is the least of my worries. And is exactly my worries.

Comfort vs Liberation

Ejo Patrick Mc Mullen Osho is the dharma teacher at Eugene Zendo. Misunderstandings are entirely my own!

There is a difference between the experience of "suffering and the cessation of suffering" and the teachings about it. Teachings vary, describing various numbers of factors and causes, depending on the tradition and circumstances. There is no one "right" teaching. In fact, the litmus for a true teaching is its effect on practitioners. The Buddha said that misunderstandings of the nature of Karma are by definition those that discourage practice and benevolent action on the part of those who subscribe to them.

The present experience of the self is wholly based on previous karma. Actually, it is nothing but previous karma. The fundamental delusion is that there is a "self" that things happen to. There is a very real distinction between saying "I exist in dependence on everything" and "I am everything. Similarly "Everything changes" versus "Everything is change."

The diligent, active acceptance of karma is key foundation for practice. Understanding that karma laid down in the past appears in the present as the sensation of "self." For example, encountering a person who has hurt me brings all the hurt flooding back; I'm right back in that experience, which has lain dormant as a seed until now.

Outside of continual cycling through realms of difficulty and pleasure, there is the possibility of practice: karma which ends karma. The goal of our lives is not comfort, but liberation.


It was so good to be in a didactic class again. I have great respect for Ejo's understanding; I studied karma a fair amount and have found that even otherwise accomplished teachers have trouble discussing it in an accurate and satisfying manner. Ejo's mastery of the history of Buddhist thought is evident, and his manifestation of it in the present is—effortlessly, without fanfare—amazing.

Relating to a Spiritual Teacher - update

More from the email to Niall:

Interesting that you ask who my teacher is. That question is such a common one in zen and buddhist circles, and the relationship with a teacher is usually thought to be some sort of metaphysical mystical bond. I haven't found a teacher who I can study with in the way I want to, with whom there is ALSO the mystical bond I assume must be there. It's a topic of much introspection about my picture of practice vs the reality.

I received precepts from Shohaku Okumura, who I love, and I studied very deeply (or so it feels to me) with Hogen Bays at Great Vow. But I have not asked either of them to be my teacher or (more to the point) viewed them as "the one", the person to whom I am responsible for my practice, from whom I dare not hide any aspect of my personality, however unflattering. For years.

I am increasingly aware that ordination and spiritual ministry are a very likely path. I've been slow to figure this out, and I'm biased to mistrust the desire of those who come upon a vocation suddenly. So it's obviously time to work with someone in a more structured and committed way.

Ordinary Mysteries

(I started to write this to Niall, and then thought, Why should I share my deepest thoughts only with a 19-year-old zen prodigy in Northern Ireland? Surely others can relate as well. It's not so complicated.)

When I left the monastery I had the idea that life in the outside world would seem very concrete. But no. The impression that things are constantly falling apart continues. As does the experience of consciousness rooted largely in a mythic realm.

In fact, it's getting worse. Because so much more can happen when events are not bound by routine and schedule, there are many more opportunities for mysterious themes and coincidences to congeal. This "normal" life is thoroughly magical and beyond understanding.

Bodhidharma

Woodblock by Yoshitoshi

That man Bodhidharma
Planted tea bushes in my heart
And turned my head to flame.

So who now moans, as if nothing will do?
And how have I failed, to feel so unwhole?
Hills of bright trees are now silent sticks,
Geese pass over—thick fog.

Let's break the damn cup, and start over again.

12/05

Food Insecurity and the Finer Things in Life

$20 worth of cheese has moved through our refrigerator in the past week or so, and I've eaten only the barest portion of it. My housemates buy Muenster and smoked Mozzarella. I buy the most boring California Cheddar at $5 a pound.

Actually, I would rather not buy cheese.

This is not because I dislike fine cheese. To the contrary. Next to the others the Cheddar is nearly tasteless. Not as bad as what comes from Safeway, but still more exciting for its brilliant orange color than anything else.

I have taken to feeling personally hurt or worried when the heat is turned up to 68 degrees, and this joyful consumption of cheese—Rob melts it on nearly everything, burns it black in the broiler half the time—feels like something I can't afford.

Perhaps I could. I've earned $284 working at the store, or will have when Ruby pays me. Apparently she's notorious. (Which came as no surprise: I've been taking increasingly shrill calls from her landlady, on the 20th of the month, no less!)

I think the issue has to do with feeling pressure (largely self-generated) to pay for a luxury I wouldn't otherwise choose. I feel obligated to force bits of cheese into my diet so I'll get my money's worth. It feels terrible.

The view of My Self as an accomodating team player is clashing with some harsh economic realities. And it doesn't have to be like this. Saying what I need would be one way to cut through a lot of anxiety. But somehow I'm ashamed. I wouldn't mind being seen in the store paying with food stamps, and I wouldn't mind if people knew. Yet to say to the people I live with, "This isn't working for me," is a stretch.

In other words, welcome to the edge of practice. Where DeliaShugetsu gets to examine her assumptions that Worthwhile People don't have individual needs, and that Good Zen Students just trust the universe like clouds and water. I might have to work a bit to get the gratitude flowing, but I know this is exactly what I need to deal with. Thanks be to the cheese!

One of the girls at the store is on food stamps. Which is incredible considering how social services have been cut. But this happy young thing told me she and her boyfriend each receive $150 a month for groceries, by virtue of being OSU students who qualify for financial aid.

That's a tremendous amount of money.

I assumed that 32-year-old aspiring writers need not apply, but I looked at the online eligibilty calclulator, and...I'm going to go talk to a caseworker at the Benton County "Self-Sufficiency" Office. The prospect of receiving "Self-Sufficiency" rather than "Welfare" is awfully inspiring.

Fire and Flood

19 Jan 2006, Corvallis, Oregon

Under a billowing black trail, the warehouse behind the mill is being eaten by red flames.

We watch from the park. The floodwater has climbed at least two feet since yesterday, and now benches and bike paths are part of the river. This wide and muddy Willamette bulges beneath the overpass, where cars go by, and roils under the mill. Under the smoke that pours skyward.

A few people with dogs and lattés in to-go cups gather to watch. Some pop open a digital camera, and try to make it into a picture: See the hungry flames, the dying mill, the surging water. As if the moment could be held against its will.

As if we will not all be destroyed in turn. As if the lesson is not being shouted by every log truck and new townhouse development: this world is eating itself.

I am crying, but I have to go to work. At the store, I dress in a shining silk mandarin jacket: metallic green armor for a morning in the retail realm. Mythology converges in sudden lucidity: we are always in witness to Kali the destroyer, birthing and eating her children; we are always attempting to ignore the self-consuming serpent, to face away from a world as terrifying and beautiful as a scorpion in the moonlight. To put something between ourself and flames that billow above a rushing flood.

The local paper reported this in their own way....

Writing Sample: Recycling's Rebirth

I wrote the following article for the newsletter of First Alternative, a grocery cooperative in Corvallis.

When I was little, we would drive 45 minutes to shop there. It had that health food store smell, bulk bins, and lots of idealistic propaganda strewn around. A vibrant quilted banner urging us to "Think Globally, Act Locally" hung on one wall. The panels were made by various individuals, and depicted fabric foodstuffs, or multicolored hands joining together, or ...toothbrushes.

In retrospect I realize how effectively I absorbed a progressive agenda by osmosis while my mother filled canning jars with soy sauce and ground peanut butter in the big machine.

Today I'm back in Corvallis, and volunteering on the recycling crew at First Alternative. This earns my household a 15% discount on groceries--which amounts to real money very quickly--in exchange for two hours of (wet, smelly) work per week.

The old "Think Globally, Act Locally" banner has been taken out of the store, and is hanging in the nearby "meeting room". This small cinderblock building in the parking lot was, back in the day, a scary, grimy bar sitting bizarrely on the edge of a hippie utopia. Now it's been absorbed into the co-op empire. And the banner is now severely faded, a relic of some other time. The colors have gone muddy, and only in my memory are they still bright and clear.

---

Recycling’s Rebirth

Everything we throw “away” has to end up somewhere, and thanks to First Alternative’s recycling program, a substantial stream of waste is diverted from the landfill to see a new life. The recycling compound behind the South Store parking lot serves households all over the Willamette Valley, and is the only location in Linn and Benton counties that accepts freezer board, aseptic containers (typically milk and soymilk cartons)—and even clean Styrofoam. These are all processed, sorted and packaged by volunteers. The packaged materials are hauled away for recycling: Styrofoam is taken to Portland by Parrott’s Home Furnishings, and First Alternative owner-workers haul aseptics and freezer board to Eugene.

This program—an outreach effort by First Alternative that touches many, many lives—is currently being reworked to make the recycling experience more pleasant and efficient for the community. It’s also being rebuilt from the inside, as a model for implementing the Owner Relations Committee’s recommendation that owner-worker committees become more self-governing. We hope you’ll appreciate the changes as they come, and consider joining us in this pioneering volunteer model.

Casual users of the recycling area can look forward to improved signage, instructions on how to prepare your recycling, increased neatness in the midst of inevitable chaos, and an overall streamlined experience.

You can help this community effort by remembering that another person must handle everything you leave behind. You’ll save the volunteers a lot of work—often dirty work—by bringing your recyclables in a state that makes the job easier:

Remove plastic spouts from aseptic containers—both the short square spouts that grace soymilk-type cartons and the tall round spouts on orange juice cartons.

Items should be clean of dirt and food residue. We can’t clean dirty Styrofoam or filthy bottles—these items are just thrown in the garbage. Excessive food waste also encourages mice, which is bad news for everyone, including the mice.

Flatten cartons and cardboard.

Sort your recyclables rather than leaving us with the proverbial mixed bag.

If a collection container is full, stack items neatly nearby. Disorder breeds disorder, and a little bit of mess soon leads to full-scale chaos.

Don’t dump nonrecyclable items. The range of items that can be accepted is pretty well-defined. Tires, car batteries, and household trash aren’t among them! And although larger pieces of Styrofoam are accepted, packing peanuts aren’t.

Dumping is unsightly, strains Co-op resources, and is potentially harmful to recycling workers. You can bring small batteries to Customer Service at the South Store for recycling.

Consider joining our team for spirited work parties, an exploration of the self-governing model, a 15% discount on your groceries, and—most importantly-- a deeper appreciation of the vast amounts of waste we generate, and the potential for positive change.

Driving Toward the Future

Today I drove up to Portland to talk to middle schoolers at The Catlin Gabel School, where I went from 8th-12th grade. Representatives from various religions were there to talk about ethics.

As an adult, I marvel at how beautiful they are. Their skin and eyes are so bright, and their minds are so fresh. And they have no idea what vibrant creatures they are. Some of them are clearly special-- quirky and lovable old souls sharing themselves without reservation.

I could say a lot about the talks I gave and the conversations we had. Mostly I'm humbled by my own inability to express the dharma. And that people respond anyway, because the truth is just so damn good, easily surviving mangling at my hands.

But the notable thing I'm here to write about was that: I drove to Portland, did the program and drove back. Ninety minutes each way. And the drive was wonderful.

The light reflected off the wet freeway, the sun came out, distant smokestacks puffed against a background of black clouds. It is possible to express metta--lovingkindness-- from the driver's seat, and to undertake the drive in a spirit of collaboration and love. Just sitting and driving and feeling the body (so the arms don't start to get tense). A ninety-minute heart-opening meditation.

This spirit first came over me when I made a 5.5 hour trek from Mt Vernon, Washington, to the monastery in Clatskanie, Oregon, just after Christmas. I saw two overturned SUVs on that drive. One was a Cadillac Escalade, the most ostentatious and muscular expression of anxiety salved by conspicuous consumption on the road today. To see that proud, nasty vehicle, freshly flipped and quivering, the people inside in great danger... after that, I am no longer "offended" by this dangerous monstrosity. I am just sad.

It's so unfortunate that people feel the need to climb into giant mounds of metal in order to feel safe. At a time when resources are dwindling and the very nature of Nature is changing, all we can do in our fear is to use more oil, drive bigger cars, make the problem worse?

One could hope that being faced with real shortages and consequences in oil consumption would force us to cut through the illusion of separation and begin to cooperate as if our lives depended on one another. As they always have. Pragmatic cooperation certainly does exist-- but it's also tempting to grab what little is left. When privation looms, who doesn't want to find some security against the rising tide of chaos?

But what security there is, is not in "things." Being able to be happy after three hours of driving seems much more satisfying.