Perseverance

"Life is complex."


"Each one of us must make his own path through life. There are no self-help manuals, no formulas, no easy answers. The right road for one is the wrong road for another...The journey of life is not paved in blacktop; it is not brightly lit, and it has no road signs. It is a rocky path through the wilderness. "

— M. Scott Peck

Monday Metta

This morning, as a result of a friend's sudden illness, my stepfather's report of Father's Day, a couple of friendly hellos, and the grogginess of a typical Monday, the path gained clarity.

Monkey Mind

The toxins multiply
For the insolent and negligent
Who reject what they should do
And do instead what they should not.
But the toxins come to an end
For those who are mindful and alert,
Who are constantly well-engaged
With mindfulness of the body,
Who don't resort to what they should not do
But persist in doing what they should.
(The Dhammapada, Gil Fronsdal's translation)

With the beginning of the new year, accompanied by the cold weather, resulting in more time inside, I find myself struggling with mindfulness. The passage above settles into my centeredness, reminding me that choice is part of the path. I abide by the perception that nothing is dichotomous...that I am always on the path; one cannot be "off the path." The path includes rocky terrain, and smooth warm sand, cool grass...just as in a race, one may be at times in the front and other times at the aid station. But one is never not in the race. And finishing first is not my goal--my goal is to be fully engaged and aware of the experience.

I am allowing my distractions some room on the path, but they will not deter my enlightenment.

Being on the path

Hagen writes, "Wouldn't it be great if I could create this or do that or avoid those?...our basic problem is our preoccupation with pleasing and protecting ourselves."

As the Michigan winter continues with its gray, frigid, windy presence, my friends all around wish for warmer weather, different climates, sandy beaches...anything other than what we have (and have had for 6 weeks and will continue to have for at least 2 more months!). Taking a stroll out of my West Village office, around the corner to Chelsea Piers was a great experience; I'm fond of that memory and of the photo that prefaces this post. But today I have the present. Indeed, every moment I only have the present...and then it is gone, replaced by a new present moment.

In Sangha this past Sunday the passage I've quoted above got quite a bit of airplay. We discussed how our actions, feelings, fears, hopes, and perceived expectations of others often lead us to please or self-protect. We also discussed our perceptions of "being on the path." But are we ever not on the path?

This moment is my path, and my actions at this moment are my practice. The path is infinite--without beginning and without end--without parameters. My path has a broad shoulder, some rocky terrain, some peaceful shade trees, and even some lovely city lawns near the water where I can repose. My path is everpresent--it is only my delusions that can allow me to imagine that I have left the path.

What does your path look like? Are you in rocky terrain or on a lovely sandy path toward cool water? What is your practice today? Is your practice embracing the chair your sitting in while you read this? The coffee or tea you're enjoying? Or is your practice dancing with fear or imagined catastrophes? Be with your practice and on your path.