The Power of Zero
Tuesday, 14. August 2007, 23:15:01
"You don't bring enlightenment into you from outside.
You just remove confusion, ignorance, forgetfulness, so the enlightenment can reveal itself.
* * *
When we say zero is nothing, it is very negative. . .but that's not negative at all.
If you are in debt, if you owe someone a million dollars, and now if you arrive at zero, that's a lot!
Suppose you don't have any illness.
That's zero.
That's very much.
That's a lot!
* * *
If suffering is there, something else should be there also ~ namely, happiness."
~ Thich Nhat Hanh, in a dharma talk given at Plum Village on July 1, 2007
It is a million degrees here in Alabama, and oh so dry.
In addition to the farmers, I know there are a lot of other folks out there suffering right now. People who are trying to put their lives back together after serving in Iraq. People who are still struggling in the wake of Hurricane Katrina. People who are supporting loved ones through serious illnesses.
A lot of suffering.
With great respect for what a powerful teacher suffering can be, I offer my own new little game ~ catching moments of well-being.
After a great deal of practice ~ you know, sitting, walking, eating mindfully ~ it began to happen like this:
I'm parking my car on the way to work, and suddenly notice "this is a moment of well-being. I feel fine in my body. Work is fine. Family is good. Yes, there are 'big issues' that irk me, but this moment is just fine."
Then it was this:
My nieces and I are laying on the bed watching Mr. Rogers. First one, then the other, cuddles up. Suddenly, the four-year old exclaims 'I can hear your stomach!' 'I want to hear, too,' joins the seven-year old. Before long we're all giggling at the sound of a stomach digesting the pizzas we made earlier in the day.
Later, the kids take turns inviting the bell. We stop and smile at each other. That is, until one or the other decides she wants to get up and wander off.
Later still, I catch the four-year-old doing walking meditation in the grass. "Where did she learn that?" I wonder, delighted.
Or this:
We're sitting outside in the courtyard of the church at our Monday night gathering. Envious of all the folks who are off on retreat at Stonehill College right now, we have done Deep Relaxation, soothed by a recording of Sister Chan Khong. We've done slow walking meditation in the lush grass, and counted no fewer than four bats overhead. We've set up benches in the courtyard so we can have our discussion under the stars. We all stop for a moment to take in the blue of the night sky, the flying bats, the popping-out stars, and think "this is a moment of well-being."
It's a really fun game, actually. Once you start to get good at it, you can find those moments more and more, in the most unlikely places. Like washing chocolate-splattered doors at work. Or taking the recycling out. Or paying bills.
Cultivating this ability is a lot of what we do at our Monday night gatherings. It's almost like fertilizer for the soul. Finding ways to nourish ourselves and each other, to strengthen our mindfulness, so we can go back into the week renewed. Hopefully we go back with a few new tools for stopping and appreciating what is here, now.
And here, now.
And here, now.
You are welcome to join us next Monday, if you like. We'd love to practice with you.
WIDGETIZE