I sit in meditation the hard rain has stopped falling as hard as it was, but is in that stage where it still falls in bursts, and the wind is blowing strongly enough to make it splatter off the leaves. We are chanting and where once I found it almost embarrassing, a feeling of heat on my cheeks when I did it, I now find that it is a solace, a moment of serenity. When my thoughts stray I stumble over the Sino Japanese words. But when I focus it comes out, my voice strong, and it is like singing at the top of my lungs to my favorite song, only I am a capella but for the other voices. Shinge Roshi once asked me if I had had musical training, and told me my chanting reflected that I did. I of course told her of once but no longer skill on the violin, of teaching myself to play recorder, of my time in chorus and church choir. It is a relief to not have the litany of stupidity in my head, though I am now working not on shoving it out, but instead in trying to understand it, in trying to accept that it is a part of me, to sit with it no matter how uncomfortable it makes me feel. But for a few moments my brain is silent, while the vocal chords and air around me are filled with joyous sound, accompanied of course by all the nature, windows wide open, wind blowing in the sound as it rises and falls. And after, when we are quiet there is a moment in my brain where I realize I am at one pointed awareness, how can you return to one if you are already there?
I go to physical therapy for my knee injury and do squats until my thighs burn. At home I get the dog for a walk who will later hug me in his dog way at least three times on the journey. We walk three miles and I can honestly say I can barely remember it. At home again I make myself some curried chickpeas with carrots peas and onions and put it over whole wheat couscous. It is delicious. I take my bike and ride almost 10 miles standing up to ride into the strong head wind. And later when I go upstairs to get my journal from my bedside, I feel the aching in my body. It feels good. Really good. I get on the scales before my shower and have lost 8 pounds since I last weighed myself which was some weeks ago. My underwear are feeling too big, along with my favorite shorts, so I know inches are gone too. Yes. I realize that hunger is like unwanted thoughts, if you just notice it and let it pass, it does. So though I want a light beer, and a bag of popcorn I do not have it. The longer I go without the better it feels. Where once I might have had carrot cake twice on Sunday and twice today, I have only had a one inch wedge from the cake, and I feel proud as hell because it is my favorite.
I write in my journal about how painful it is to never have closure with my ex husband. I know I know I keep beating this dead horse though it is a prehistoric one. And its bones better served for paleontology than self abuse. I acknowledge my fear that someone will do this to me again, abandon me with no words, just leave as though I am nothing more than a paper towel wadded up and thrown away. Done. Though I can say he told me I was charming and lovely and the best thing that ever happened to him, there was never any closure. If that was true then why did you leave me. And why was I so damned blind and missed all the cues until later when I held up a lamp and looked backwards and the truth loomed like a 50 foot vampire cloak extended. I write about how all of this is making it so hard for me to maintain relationships with men. I write about how really what I want more than anything is the pirate, whom it would appear does not want me anymore, because of my stupid fears and wanting to protect my bodhichitta, the soft part of me that is in everyone. I write about how powerless it makes me feel to have this wound, to have no closure and how I use this now old news situation to allow myself to sabotage what matters to me, to crush my own bodhichitta. This nonsense, will the pirate call me, won’t he, will he want to work this out or won’t he, and will I ever get over what the selfish arrogant F___face did to me, and is still making me do to myself over and over again ad nauseum, oh you see this is the litany of stupidity. I expose it here for all to see like a corpse in a sky burial. And I know the healthiest way to handle it is not to try and push it out, but instead to open it up and expose it so that it will decay in the natural cycle of nature.
I continue to mediate. I must continue.