went through the motions today. felt like i was just sitting there letting my mind wander. came back to the breath umpteen times before it went off a- wandering again. abandoned after eight minutes. oh dear.
(((Ruth))) There are days like that. There will always be days like that. It's whether we let it discourage us or not that makes the difference.
And I didn't sit at all this morning. Feeling absolutely exhausted and rather ill after only three days back in London and couldn't get out of bed in time... Sigh. I will do it later.
ruth - sometimes just the motions are more than enough. they keep the habit in place so that we may return with greater ease.
jean i hope you feel rested and better soon.
sheesh what a day yesterday was. fitting given yesterdays comments for it belongs to the road trip genre. if you have time or inclination check out my blog.
thinking of you all from coast to coast and across the pond.
Yes, Ruth: what Jean said. There will always be days like that...and that's not necessarily a bad thing, it's just part of the "is-ness" of being alive on this planet.
Jean, I hope you're gentle with yourself, acknowledging the trauma that often arises in the aftermath of both travel and loss. Lying abed exhausted is its own kind of meditation, too, so don't beat yourself up too much for not sitting. Sitting isn't the end-all & be-all, after all: it's just one part of the equation.
I did sit this morning, but only because I didn't bow. I'm learning that making a commitment to bowing practice usually results in very few bows but lots of sitting: I guess I'm just lazy that way, and having a big commitment to fall short of somehow gets me on (if not off) my butt.
Lorianne, I've just been reading Martine Batchelor's book about her 10 very happy years as a Zen nun in Korea. She is disarmingly honest about never having got any keener on bowing. What often most impresses me about truly spiritual people is their complete lack of an impulse to 'impression management'.
c-dave - have you ever cycled up the Mont Ventoux? If so you will have passed me. I was the one sitting in the vines drinking a glass of viognier!
((((Jean))) take it real easy.
Lorraine - I am interested to know what the bowing means to you. Are you bowing to something? Is it like my swimming? An expansive and stretching repetitive movement, waking up the body without jolting it or sending the mind into a spin??? For me swimming is such an essential part of the day, and when the sky is above and the scent of the pines and the cicadas and my mind is still, it is surely a kind of bowing?
Oh, I haven't sat this morning and am realizing the raggedness of how I feel is an indication I would benefit from it if I only would! ;-) So... I have just taken several slow breaths and that will do for the moment... and I have made myself a little promise for very soon.
Ruth, swimming, bowing... you draw some interesting parallels and I will be interestd to see what Lorianne has to say. Makes me think of the walking I do, when alone sometimes I can get into a very rhythmic mental head space in which everything seems very bright and alive and right there in front of me. For me it's a combination of the gentle motions, the rhythms, the breathing, being in contact with nature. And letting thoughts go!
Ruth, I'm not bowing "to" anything external: no image of god, Buddha, or whatever. Physically, I'm bowing to my mat, which faces a wall, so there's not even anything iconographically interesting going on.
At the same time, though, the bowing is somehow different, for me, than "mere" exercise: there is something richly evocative about the humility of repeatedly lowering yourself on the ground. Some teachers in my school have described bowing as "small i bowing to Big I," meaning that you're training your individual ego to submit to the True Self we all share.
Having lived in a Zen Center, I associate bowing, too, with sangha: the community of other practitioners. It was much easier to get up for bows when I lived in a ZC and there were other folks bowing, too: the mutual support was both obvious & immediate. The other challenge of bowing with others is that you're supposed to bow together, which means you have to pace yourself to follow the movement of others...and since we were arranged in long rows on either side of the Dharma room, you were literally bowing to the folks across from you.
It's weird, because when I do bow, I love it...it's getting myself to do it that is the problem. I guess that statement is a very good definition of "karma": you know what you "should" do, but you don't do it! :-)
Jean, I haven't heard of Martine Batchelor's book: I guess I'll have to add it to my looooong list of must-reads! In other book news, though, I just today picked up a library copy of Rebecca Solnit's Field Guide to Getting Lost, which I'd requested after you'd mentioned it on your blog. I'm itching to start it even though I technically won't have time to touch it until later this week, if then.
when i swim breaststroke i bring my hands into a prayer position under my breast, then i open them up. this feels to me like a prayer motion at the same time as an opening to the universe, just like in the yogic sun salute. then in backstroke i fell like i am opening myself to the sky again and again. letting my 'self' be vulnerable and open.... i know it's not the same, but doing it every day means the world to me.
luckily there are good outdoor poole where I am going newt week, to salzburg. shame about the trudel but hopefully one cancels the other out!
13 Comments:
went through the motions today. felt like i was just sitting there letting my mind wander. came back to the breath umpteen times before it went off a- wandering again. abandoned after eight minutes. oh dear.
(((Ruth))) There are days like that. There will always be days like that. It's whether we let it discourage us or not that makes the difference.
And I didn't sit at all this morning. Feeling absolutely exhausted and rather ill after only three days back in London and couldn't get out of bed in time... Sigh. I will do it later.
thanks guys!
ruth - sometimes just the motions are more than enough. they keep the habit in place so that we may return with greater ease.
jean i hope you feel rested and better soon.
sheesh what a day yesterday was. fitting given yesterdays comments for it belongs to the road trip genre. if you have time or inclination check out my blog.
thinking of you all from coast to coast and across the pond.
d
Yes, Ruth: what Jean said. There will always be days like that...and that's not necessarily a bad thing, it's just part of the "is-ness" of being alive on this planet.
Jean, I hope you're gentle with yourself, acknowledging the trauma that often arises in the aftermath of both travel and loss. Lying abed exhausted is its own kind of meditation, too, so don't beat yourself up too much for not sitting. Sitting isn't the end-all & be-all, after all: it's just one part of the equation.
I did sit this morning, but only because I didn't bow. I'm learning that making a commitment to bowing practice usually results in very few bows but lots of sitting: I guess I'm just lazy that way, and having a big commitment to fall short of somehow gets me on (if not off) my butt.
Lorianne, I've just been reading Martine Batchelor's book about her 10 very happy years as a Zen nun in Korea. She is disarmingly honest about never having got any keener on bowing. What often most impresses me about truly spiritual people is their complete lack of an impulse to 'impression management'.
c-dave - have you ever cycled up the Mont Ventoux? If so you will have passed me. I was the one sitting in the vines drinking a glass of viognier!
((((Jean))) take it real easy.
Lorraine - I am interested to know what the bowing means to you. Are you bowing to something? Is it like my swimming? An expansive and stretching repetitive movement, waking up the body without jolting it or sending the mind into a spin??? For me swimming is such an essential part of the day, and when the sky is above and the scent of the pines and the cicadas and my mind is still, it is surely a kind of bowing?
ruth, mount ventoux! the sympathetic joy i have for your locale has just spiked.
i'm very interested in the idea of bowing and swimming. i think i see the connection, but i've never been a bow[er].
Oh, I haven't sat this morning and am realizing the raggedness of how I feel is an indication I would benefit from it if I only would! ;-) So... I have just taken several slow breaths and that will do for the moment... and I have made myself a little promise for very soon.
Ruth, swimming, bowing... you draw some interesting parallels and I will be interestd to see what Lorianne has to say. Makes me think of the walking I do, when alone sometimes I can get into a very rhythmic mental head space in which everything seems very bright and alive and right there in front of me. For me it's a combination of the gentle motions, the rhythms, the breathing, being in contact with nature. And letting thoughts go!
Ruth, I'm not bowing "to" anything external: no image of god, Buddha, or whatever. Physically, I'm bowing to my mat, which faces a wall, so there's not even anything iconographically interesting going on.
At the same time, though, the bowing is somehow different, for me, than "mere" exercise: there is something richly evocative about the humility of repeatedly lowering yourself on the ground. Some teachers in my school have described bowing as "small i bowing to Big I," meaning that you're training your individual ego to submit to the True Self we all share.
Having lived in a Zen Center, I associate bowing, too, with sangha: the community of other practitioners. It was much easier to get up for bows when I lived in a ZC and there were other folks bowing, too: the mutual support was both obvious & immediate. The other challenge of bowing with others is that you're supposed to bow together, which means you have to pace yourself to follow the movement of others...and since we were arranged in long rows on either side of the Dharma room, you were literally bowing to the folks across from you.
It's weird, because when I do bow, I love it...it's getting myself to do it that is the problem. I guess that statement is a very good definition of "karma": you know what you "should" do, but you don't do it! :-)
Jean, I haven't heard of Martine Batchelor's book: I guess I'll have to add it to my looooong list of must-reads! In other book news, though, I just today picked up a library copy of Rebecca Solnit's Field Guide to Getting Lost, which I'd requested after you'd mentioned it on your blog. I'm itching to start it even though I technically won't have time to touch it until later this week, if then.
ditto what Lorianne said about bowing ... it's quite easy at the zendo with lots of sangha members ... just can't seem to manage it on my own
in our Japanese tradition, when our head touches the floor, we raise our hands slightly (palms up) in a gesture of giving/throwing away ...
interesting bowing comments! thank you!
when i swim breaststroke i bring my hands into a prayer position under my breast, then i open them up. this feels to me like a prayer motion at the same time as an opening to the universe, just like in the yogic sun salute. then in backstroke i fell like i am opening myself to the sky again and again. letting my 'self' be vulnerable and open.... i know it's not the same, but doing it every day means the world to me.
luckily there are good outdoor poole where I am going newt week, to salzburg. shame about the trudel but hopefully one cancels the other out!
that was s'posed to be strudel!
and i actually open my hands palms upward under my breast and then bring them into a prayer position. apart from that my last comment was perfect!
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