Tag Archives: washing dishes

one of the things i love about this retreat #1

there is much to love about this retreat.

something that keeps returning is the teaching about rice

“it’s all rice.¬† you can eat all of it.”

meaning that no matter what occurs, no matter what comes up, it’s all food for practice.

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i get to watch

with as much kindness as possible

(and i get to watch when there’s the opposite of kindness, too)

this mind

these emotions

this body

no matter what is going on or coming up or unfolding.

all of the weathers.

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take the person i mentioned before leaving

someone i met last year

where the feeling of love arises in me

naturally, easily.

not the Eros sort of love, (okay, maybe a little) but closer to what feels like Philia or Pragma

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so, i get to watch all of the stories

the multitude of ways i try to control in my mind…

there’s the t.v. channel of future – drama edition (lots of twists and turns)

the t.v. channel of future – comedy edition (wacky mishaps & mayhem)

the t.v. channel of future – romance edition (yeah, baby)

and then, if i’m paying attention, i get to drop the story.

just like that.

over

and over

and over…

this mind – holy crap it’s busy.

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one day while washing the dishes

i saw that even the stories i tell myself, the ones where “i don’t get what i want”, you know, the tragedies (full of sadness & disappointment)

even those are a sort of attempt to control an outcome –

(not to mention missing each moment with the pot…)

this mind telling stories is an attempt at trying to control my feelings

which, for whatever reason, i try to manage or avoid, as much as possible.

it’s such an old habit

(stuff a dragon in a small box, anyone?)

the thing is

turns out, i’ve just come to know that i don’t really want to control the outcome of things.

my view is limited.

and omigosh it would be boring.

my stories are so predictable now.

like some tragic sitcom writer in a rut.

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an image came

of two great gods

napping in some gorgeous sky-meadow

and here on earth, squeaking my little story (whichever edition…)

one of them snorts, still half-asleep

“did you hear something?”

the other, rolling over, and letting out a fart

“naaaah, go back to sleep”