So I went on retreat this week: cat-sitting for a friend. I was going to explore some practices and study related to an assembly I am going to in July. The whole thing fell apart in the first day. I figured out very quickly how to undo the block I had set on my phone and now I am watching Netflix. I think what happened was that I was too gung-ho about it, but also, I think I really needed time that was just mine, to relax; space that is mine, sort of.
Also, I think, I placed so much energy into the Buddhism project, and it’s not about that. I was looking for something real, and what I took refuge in, the Three Jewels, is real, but it’s not. It’s just another finger pointing to the moon, but it’s not the moon. It’s just existence. It’s just the moment, sitting here tapping on the phone while the tuxedo kitty sits on the windowsill nearby. It’s the light filtered through buildings into the window and reflecting off of the floor and walls. it’s the leather couch. It’s a relaxed body, and head and neck bent at a weird angle by the armrest.
Maybe it’s also the fretting that I have to be doing something; the worry that my life isn’t going anywhere.
Maybe it’s that, and also coming back from that.
And then, toasted roll with butter and scrambled eggs.