The Tenth Grave Precept

Experience the intimacy of things. Do not defile the Three Treasures.

I find the precepts to have moments of clarity, times where I think it they are obvious and then suddenly I'm finding layers of where I don't apply them. When I first sat with this precept my mind immediately jumped to insisting that I'd never "defile" the Three Treasures. That other bit though, experiencing intimacy...

The intimacy of the Dharma, that's part of what draws me to Buddhism. It isn't just some words written down by people hundreds of years after some guy said them. It is the collected teachings from the historical Buddha, Shakyamuni, to the teachers we have now. Considering, applying wisdom and compassion, and most importantly to me, a growing, living thing. There is an approach with the Dharma that reminds me of the way a scientific theory is considered, tested, discussed, tested, and considered some more. If anything, I think I can too easily sink into isolated intimacy of the Dharma without ever touching the other of Treasures.

The intimacy of the Buddha, of falling back into the 10,000 arms of Avalokiteshvara and knowing with certainty I'll be caught? This is pretty scary stuff for me. I don't fall back on my own easily and the Loving-Kindness sesshin certainly felt like one hell of a shove at times. During the Grasses, Trees & the Great Earth I think I got a little taste of actually letting go, allowing the feeling that my entire soul was exhausted just press me down into the warm floor of the cedar grove.

The intimacy of the Sangha is the most terrifying of them all to me. Having moved so often as a child and having had such a dysfunctional, rejecting family I really don't feel like I know how to belong to a group. For quite some time I came to zazen with the community and fled immediately after sitting was done. I enjoyed that I could come, sit in the depth of shared, communal silence, and not have to talk to anyone at all. Early on the ability to "sit and run" (as a Dharma sister names it) was part of the appeal of Zen.

Yet here it is, nearly 4 years later and next week I'm going to stand up in front of people next week, of my community, and take the vows of Jukai. I've even joined a practice group for women on Monday evenings, giving myself some structure while CK is taking a woodworking class, and shoving myself into a scary place - the close company of a group of women. We met for the first time this Monday evening.

As I talked about why I came (essentially because I was afraid of it) I could hear my voice speed up with the anxiety I was experiencing acutely and could feel my face & ears grow hot. I tried not to listen to my Inner Critic, tried to just stay with the way anxiety feels in my body, and when the next person began to speak kept my attention focused on her, not giving into the rather desperate urge to evaluate, judge, and criticize what I had shared. It feels like progress.

The Ninth Grave Precept

Actualize harmony. Do not be angry.

I made a mistake about this precept very early on, assumed this meant I could NOT get angry and gave my Inner Critic another way to beat up the times when I did feel angry. I finally took this error to Sanzen where Hogen reminded me that it meant we should not give rise to anger, rather I should look deeply at why the anger was arising. This precept directs me to accept that I will feel anger at times, to seek the source of my anger, and not give rise to the anger.

Anger can be a scary emotion for me to be around. In my family we were given the message, reinforced by punishment, that anger cannot be displayed. Raising your voice was forbidden. The image of the “happy family” presented to outsiders must be preserved. In response to this artificial, false act everyone ate inappropriately to feed the hurt feelings since acknowledging the anger, the hurt wasn’t allowed. It wasn’t OK to tell someone that a quietly spoken insult wasn’t acceptable, but it was just fine to have a piece of pie to make yourself “feel better”.

There are times, looking deeply at the source of anger, where I am put back in contact with memories of abuse. The frightened, unsupported child I was is heard and at times seems to be attacking me for not acknowledging her. I was introduced to her anger during the Loving-Kindness sesshin in April and her anger is a ferocious thing.

When I look at that anger, the rage of the child I was who experienced abuse, I can try to be calm with it and acknowledge it. Not only is that anger legitimate, it deserves to be heard since I was always told any anger I tried to express as a child was "inappropriate" or "over-reacting". Even still, even as understandable as that anger may be, when I feel the heat of it rise up in me I can breath into it, offer comfort to it, and instead respond to the situation with as much compassion as possible for myself and others.

I am far more comfortable with the work of actualizing harmony, especially for other people. I was a child who thought she wanted to be in the spotlight, but as an adult I've found I really enjoy being in the background, helping with all the little details. In a much more direct way, I feel profound gratitude for the opportunity I have to teach yoga, it is this very clear path to helping others actualize harmony, particularly a state of harmony towards the body. I try to remind myself to include myself in the people who deserve this kind of energy from me.

The Eighth Grave Precept

Give generously. Do not be withholding.

I tend to be a generous person. I am happy to buy lunch for a friend who doesn’t have the extra cash for a lunch out. I enjoy sharing with people my time, my possessions, my energy and my passion. Most of the time. Despite all of this, I have become aware of the ways in which I want to withhold that spirit of generousity.

On the flight back from Hawaii there was a family that I was rather disturbed by. First was the look of pure adolescent venom one brother gave to the youngest of his brothers when asked to help get the younger child buckled into his plane seat. It was just so strong it shocked me. What came next was triggering to my PTSD. The very harried and irritated mother returned to this row with the two boys and when the youngest said something to her that angered her the mother reached out and slapped the young boy across the face. Not hard, there was no abrupt sound and if I hadn’t been looking at the family I probably would have never noticed it. But I did.

I remembered Chozen telling us when in doubt do metta practice. It immediately occurred to me that this family really could use a lot of Loving-Kindness directed at them, however, because it was so emotionally upsetting to me I felt intense resistance. A voice inside me clearly said, “No, I’m not going to give them metta.”

I felt guilty and awful. How could I be withholding, especially of Loving-Kindness? I finally made myself look out the window of the plane and try to offer metta to myself. Start with the angry, hurt child’s voice that felt entirely disconnected from this family and saw them as “other” and therefore unworthy. Even that was hard to press past, feeling the tension arise at touching Loving-Kindness at all.

It really made me think about how a disconnect between the self and others, not seeing all people as one, makes it really easy to forget the precepts, especially this one. When I feel that I’m not included or unworthy, it is easy to withhold something like Loving-Kindness from myself. When I see other people that way, when I allow them to become “Other”, then the impulse to give freely, generously is dampened down by that disconnect. When I tighten up, when fear arises and I feel the shutters close up tight around my heart, that's when I withhold.

The Seventh Grave Precept

Realize self and others as one. Do not elevate the self and blame others.

Like the Sixth Grave Precept I feel that this is a message I heard as a child, but equally similarly was the way in which the example from my family members did not uphold this message. The idea that we're all one has always stuck with me, even though the nature of my childhood & adolescence has left me with a tremendous sense of not belonging or fitting in. What I find interesting is how the point in my life I was most disconnected from the feeling of being one, and most likely to elevate myself above others, was when I weighed the most. For me there is real irony that the literal insulation of my obesity, which I felt helped me feel more comfortable in groups, was the time in my life I was my most impatient and blaming towards other people. Now I see that grave disconnect from the health of my body as contributing to my ability to silence the part of me that knew I should treat people with more grace.

I saw this mostly in how I treated people, especially people like cashiers and others in the service industry. I could be short, terse, dismissive and unpleasant as a “dissatisfied customer”. In this way I would try to hold the person dealing with me accountable for all the irritation I felt at life instead of seeing how utterly insignificant the issue I was demanding be fixed was. I’m not even sure if I really felt like I was being elevated at those times, so much as I didn’t see them as one; the same impatient, frightened, confused, joyful, hopeful, wonderful kind of person I am with nothing but a desire to be happy, to be content.

The weight loss has at times heightened my feelings of not belonging. The loss of that layer insulating me from the enormity of my unacknowledged grief leaves me feeling completely isolated and alone with the messages I heard as a child. I’ve reached a point where I have cultivated the ability to see others as one, but it is challenging practice to include myself and not judge myself as ‘broken’.

The Sixth Grave Precept

See the perfection. Do not speak of others' errors and faults.

Growing up I got such mixed messages about talking about other people. On one hand we would be punished for “talking back”, arguing or being perceived as being disrespectful. On the other hand it was quite common for me to hear my Mom, grandmother or aunt gossiping about other family members, co-workers and friends. When we weren’t all together I would hear my Mom talking negatively about my grandmother, my aunt and my cousins. Even today my Mom still likes to talk over the misfortunes of others and make what I often consider to be rather racist comments about the migrant workers in the field near her home.

During my divorce this year I found myself really trying to focus on the precepts. Walking a fine line between acknowledging the ways in which I felt the marriage had been undermined, issues that were on-going above and beyond my initial unwillingness to accept my own sexuality. Even if that hadn’t been there, AM and I had several other deeply rooted problems.

Like all of the other precepts I find myself looking deeply at why I am talking about what I perceive as the faults of others. Is it necessary to talk about such things? Why do I feel the need to share my opinion. How do I talk constructively with people when their actions feel harmful, unhealthy to me?

I’ve tried to keep focused on not judging a whole person by some of their actions, what I may perceive as an error or fault. I look deeply at why I may be feeling hurt, fearful or angry and if it is strong enough that I need to share with someone how their behavior is impacting me. I don’t talk about these kinds of issues as widely as I once did. It might be reasonable to discuss the behavior of one person with another, but in doing so I now try to keep focused on how the behavior in question is affecting me, is my response reasonable and what constructive approaches I can use to address it with that person. Using that third-party for their ability to observe the situation from a different view than I have, not to just have a “ranting session” with no real purpose to it.

I also have become very aware of how easy it is for groups to fall into discussing the perceived errors and faults of others, especially celebrities. Whole industries have arisen to enable this kind of behavior. It is perfectly acceptable in society to gossip about a celebrity. I don’t know any celebrities directly, so it has become pretty easy to just not participate in conversations like this.

Revisiting the Fifth Grave Precept

Proceed clearly. Do not cloud the mind.

Why practice? The answer for me is that we practice because distraction does not work. Distraction is the essence of the Fifth Grave Precept.

Everything about us encourages distraction. Give me a boring, tedious OR a very challenging task (I'm intimidated then) and I find all kinds of was to procrastinate. Rather than proceed clearly with the task, for whatever mental story I'm telling myself about it, I choose to cloud the mind, to procrastinate, to not think about the task or why I'm avoiding it. If I think about the avoiding it I'll feel guilty and then need to procrastinate some more.

Alcohol, sex, opiates, shopping, donuts, exercise, running marathons, cribbage, carousing through Wikipedia, television, trashy novels....

Whatever. They're all ways we can choose to distract ourselves when taken too far. It isn't so bad in moderation. It is perfectly alright to make the choice to watch a television show, but perhaps not so cool to alienate your friends & loved-ones because you're not taking care of yourself because you're too busy watching shows. For some people a cupcake is just a cupcake, for others it is the beginning of a weekend-long cycle of binging and purging.

Why have I avoided writing about my weight loss for Chozen? Well, because talking about it such a public forum still makes me uncomfortable. I have found months worth of distraction, some of them I even cross-reference as "Zen Practice" (e.g., sesshin, sewing rakusu, writing about precepts, etc.) as a justification for my avoiding what my teacher has told me is of great value. Yep, we're back to my number one way to cloud the mind, procrastination. I'm good at it.

What does my distraction, my intently seeking to cloud my mind from the uncomfortable feelings that arise get me? Well, yes indeed-y, more GUILT. More Inner Critic assuring me my Dharma name will mean something along the lines of "Great Clumsiness" or "Remedial Zen Student" or "Slow Learner".

Proceed clearly. Drop the distractions. Drop the noise about needing the distractions. Just move forward in clarity even when, especially when the going is tough.

Revisiting the Fourth Grave Precept

Manifest Truth. Do not lie.

Looking back on what I wrote in April 2008 and where I'm at in September 2009 is a lesson in seeking the truth of one's own life.

I'm divorced because of this precept. Of course it is at once more complicated, and yet as simple as that. It is the seeking of the Essential Self, the goal of the settled mind. That clarity does not mean that the consequences of the truth revealed will be simple or painless, but the way is clear.

"Are you self-identifying as a lesbian." a good friend asked during the divorce.

It felt weird, something about the words, "Self-Identifying" just didn't sit right. I guess I don't feel so much as I'm making a conscious decision to "identify" so much as a conscious decision to recognize, honor, and manifest the truth about myself. Acknowledging the Essential Self that is glimpsed when we settle the mind to silence.

I strive for such honesty, such transparency with others that I could easily dismiss this Precept as being "done". The truth of it is that I have the most difficult time when it comes to applying this precept to how I deal with myself. I find it far too easy to be untruthful with myself when it comes to looking honestly, compassionately at the whole of my life. The shiny bits and the ugly ones.

Especially the ugly bits.

Revisiting the Third Grave Precept

Honor the body. Do not misuse sexuality.

This is such a sticky-feeling precept for me. As a person who has experienced sexual abuse my emotional response to the Third Grave Precept is pretty intense. Just this week I've found myself trying to respond calmly to some comments online where someone was suggesting that a celebrity had only now revealed sexual abuse because it was timed with a book being released. That no one would just keep stuff like that a secret.

But sexuality misused is all about secrecy, shame, and hidden things. I was livid at reading someone suggesting that hiding abuse was about attention-seeking and that gathering together the courage to speak about the abuse nothing more than a cheap ploy to generate book sales. I find it incomprehensible that someone could still suggest such a thing. That it was a man writing these awful things led me down the path of judging the majority of men for being abusers and doubters.

Loving, consensual sexuality is an act of sacredness. It has nothing to do with religion and everything to do with the divinity that is arises from the sharing of vulnerability in sexual intimacy. When that honor, that trust is broken it can be so profoundly devastating at so many levels that it considerably easier to hide it in the silent abyss of shame.

My marriages were both, in their own way a misuse of sexuality. A way of staying "safe" and not exploring painful, difficult questions about myself. There just finally came a point where honoring myself, my essential self, meant recognizing that pretending I was something I was not. Pretending that I'm not a lesbian in order to not hurt someone is another way of misusing sexuality.

Even when I try to look at just the affirmation to "Honor the body." my mind jumps away from any connotation of sexuality. It is more comfortable to think about a healthful diet, weight loss, and exercise than it is to think about how this relates to sexuality. I immediately seek to distract myself from that discomfort by attempting to interpret the statement in a way I feel more confident speaking to.

But I am trying to see it as a way of learning to accept that our bodies have sexual feelings. Feeling desire for another person isn't a weakness nor is it something to be ashamed of, particularly not in the context of a loving relationship between adults. The sharing of intimacy should be an act of honoring the body.

Revisiting the Second Grave Precept

Be giving. Do not steal.

In the time since I first took the vow to not steal I've really come to reflect more on the giving side of this precept. Perhaps it is because I've really looked at the Seventh Grave Precept much more closely, where we're encouraged further more to give generously. With reflection I've considered more the ways in which I want to not give, to not share my time or energy. "Robbing" other people of those intangible things.

I've also thought about the times when I try to over-extend myself, wanting so much to please another person that I'm willing to deplete, "steal" the energy I need to stay healthy. For some of us it is far to easy to be giving to the point of self-harm (and there we go breaking the First Grave Precept). People like it when you give, but we have to be willing to extend that generosity to ourselves as well.

On the other side is recognizing that other people need to set boundaries like this. Taking advantage of someone who gives generously and then being frustrated when they say they cannot feels to me as though it would fall into being weighed by this precept. Working with it has made me more aware of how people share with me (in ways emotional, material, and otherwise) and how I am given the opportunity to respond in kind.

Because I've spent a lot of time reflecting on my veganism I've also come to see how this precept applies to my interaction with animals. Just as I should not take advantage of a person's good-nature and willingness to help out, I don't feel it is right to take advantage of animals, to be part of the industry that "steals" their calves, etc. It is more giving to to animals to nurture myself on a plant-based diet

Revisiting the First Grave Precept

Affirm life. Do not kill.

I wrote about the First Grave Precept in December 2007. It caused me to reflect upon my yoga practice, the Yama of ahimsa, and how I related to my husband at the time as well as students and co-workers.

In the nearly two years that have past my practice with honoring, affirming life has lead me to a divorce. It seems strange writing that, but in re-reading how the I saw the precept as being important for fostering honesty and supporting each other wholeheartedly, that's the truth of it. Staying married had not become a way for us to affirm who we are.

What has stayed constant, deepened, is my view of this precept as it relates to my decision to be a vegan. The first precept, to refrain from taking life and to affirm life whenever possible, is the foundation for how we work with all the other precepts. It directs how we interact in our life moment-by-moment, if we need any clarification we can always come back and ask ourselves questions directly related to this precept.

Is what I'm about to do going to harm another being, including myself, in any way? Is what I'm about to do something that will affirm the life of another being or myself?

Yes, I can look at honesty, intent to distract myself or others, generosity, anger, sexuality, gossip, self-aggrandizement, and speaking ill of other beings or the Three Treasures - in the end they all get held against the first precept. Am I harming or affirming life?

Following a vegan diet means that I am trying to nourish peace at a cellular level. After all, what I eat is what builds the very corporeal framework that lives this precept. Deciding that some suffering is acceptable to nourish myself with, turning a blind eye to the suffering of dairy cows so I can eat cheese isn't alright nor is pretending that there are "happy chickens" producing the eggs at the grocery store. I cannot pretend that suffering is somehow OK because the animal isn't actively being killed (at that moment) for the dairy or eggs. Yes, perhaps some chickens or cows suffer at a greater level than others, but I really don't think any of them can be considered happy; especially when they stop being "good producers".

I also choose not to split-hairs with non-vegan who insist on asking if I would change my mind if I owned and raised the chickens, etc. Even the arguing about the details detracts from the affirming, the honoring of life I am actively seeing. I am happy to explain why I choose to interpret the First Grave Precept as a reason for my veganism, I just don't seek to debate it.

I've come to see that I really don't need to sustain a healthy, peace-minded life by taking advantage of the fact that I can digest animal products. I'm easily capable of mindfully choosing a diet that translates to peace in every bite. From this place I know that I interact more compassionately to others. The peacefulness of my diet has helped me tremendously in learning to extend that same loving-kindness to myself. Even when I am frustrated I am more quickly capable of responding in a manner that seeks to actualize harmony because my life is fully nourished by the First Grave Precept.

The Grave Precepts

In preparation for Jukai on October 8 I am writing about the 10 Grave Precepts. These vows, along with 6 others, I will take in front of my community (Sangha) when I formally become a Zen Buddhist. I've known I want to do this since 2006, but it has taken me 3 years to actually take the steps to do this. I was particularly anxious about sesshin practice, but the two I've done this year have been as hard as I feared and better than I could have hoped.

In spring of 2008 I took these first vows. CK was there, as she was when I completed a women's retreat at the beginning of 2008. These moments had the feeling of great importance when they happened. It feels very deeply right and wonderful that she will be taking the first five precepts when I am taking Jukai. The first five vows we'll say together.

I did not post what I've already written about the first five of the Grave Precepts. I have just posted them now and will be revisiting them in current writing. These are not tasks we check off and move onto the next step towards Enlightenment, rather they are part of our continuous practice. Like zazen, like asana, like the breath.


The Ten Grave Precepts

• Affirm life. Do not kill.
• Be giving. Do not steal.
• Honor the body. Do not misuse sexuality.
• Manifest truth. Do not lie.
• Proceed clearly. Do not cloud the mind.
• See the perfection. Do not speak of others' errors and faults.
• Realize self and others as one. Do not elevate the self and blame others.
• Give generously. Do not be withholding.
• Actualize harmony. Do not be angry.
• Experience the intimacy of things. Do not defile the Three Treasures.

The Three Treasures

• Taking refuge in the Buddha.
• Taking refuge in the Dharma.
• Taking refuge in the Sangha.

The Three Prue Precepts

• Do not create evil.
• Practice good.
• Actualize good for others.

Sympathy Deficit Disorder

I admit, I'm just trying to be clever with the title. Well, mostly.

Amidst all the "usual" emails in my inbox at work Thursday morning was news that a co-worker, had lost her dog. I happen to know that R, the director of one of my client teams, absolutely adored her dog. He was really her little furry "kid" and he meant the world to her. R even gave people pictures of Spike!

As a person with little furry "kids" in my life I really felt a lot of sympathy for R. I've had to make the decision to be a part of ending a pet's life due to the suffering that comes of extreme illness or old age. It is the hardest part of the joy of pet companionship. My heart went out to her when I read the news.

During a break between meetings I made a point to pick out a sympathy card to send to R while picking up some lunch. I sent a message out to my team that I had a card at my desk her, letting people know they could sign it before I mailed it off. Everyone in the office on Thursday signed the card and we talked about our own pets.

Except one person. K told me, with great discomfort and awkwardness, how she really didn't know about Spike at all. Then K went on to say how R had been a major part of a decision to downsize a team in Portland several years ago. K had been part of that team. Many of her team mates at the time had lost their jobs and K ended up transferring onto the team we are both now a part of. K said she's never been able to let go of those hard feelings and didn't feel right signing a sympathy card. I responded that it was quite alright, that K need not feel pressured to sign the card.

Really I felt funny about it myself. Inside I was surprised that someone would withhold sympathy from another suffering being. I appreciate how deeply the wounds are when a company eliminates a team, the last job I had ended when the parent company closed the Oregon office. Despite understanding that on a very personal level it feels so obvious to me that we should respond compassionately to the suffering of others.

In some ways I was reminded of my Mom and the way she holds grudges, holding onto her anger even after a person has died. I believe there are people my Mom would withhold her compassion and sympathy. My whole family could be begrudging emotionally and materially.

It was after this brief, terribly awkward interaction with a co-worker I normally find so compassionate and recalling the own miserliness of my own family I was reminded of the eighth precept, "Not to withhold spiritual or material aid, but to give it freely when needed."

I guess I see responding with sympathy and compassion, particularly towards someone grieving a loss, is a reflection of eighth precept. It is an area where all we have to do to give is to listen and acknowledge the suffering another person is experiencing. Nothing more is necessary than that, just the compassion of a sympathetic ear.

Kindness and the First Grave Precept

Of all of the Yamas and Precepts, the first of each is the one that changes, enriches, and fills my life.

The first Yama: ahimsa, "non-harming"
The first Grave Precept: "Do not kill. Affirm Life."

When I was studying the precepts in more depth my teachers shared with me John Daido Loori's writing on them. For each "do not" there is an positive "do". This enriched my view of ahimsa greatly so that it not only contained the idea of non-harming, but grew to include the goal of sustaining, enriching life as well.

I've come to see kindness as a partner of non-harming in practicing the first precept. One could easily withdraw from the world, limit contact in order to promote non-harming, but to affirm life draws you directly into the world. Simple kindness provides a way to enrich and nourish life.

In 2000 I realized I'd moved away from being a kind person. I can recall about myself as a child that I was kind and genuinely interested in each being around me. My family didn't exactly foster this and our society often disparages kind optimists as "Pollyannas". The feedback I got over the years was to hone my wit and protect my heart. In doing so I grew disconnected from people and from myself.

There was a moment where I suddenly saw my behavior towards a person as being impatient, arrogant and very unkind. That night I reflected upon it and felt ashamed of myself. I hadn't bothered to exert myself to remember I was interacting with another person, that I didn't need to bother.

And I was bothered by it. Greatly. So I started with kindness.

Every time I talked to someone I tried to give them attention. When I was in a check-out line at a market I made eye-contact and honestly responded to the automatic, "How are you today?" greeting. What's more I made sure to ask how the person helping me was doing today. I listened to their response. I made sure I wished them a good rest of their day too.

What amazed me was how little effort it took me. Even on a less than stellar days. Rather than be irritated or lie and say I was fine I would honestly tell someone I was having a lousy day. I tried to smile a lot.

Even more amazing was the response I began to see, how immediate and dramatic it was. People smiled back, all the time. They were gracious funny, sympathetic, caring and wonderful. I've even have learned new things from many people. When I tried this at restaurants and shops I would get awesome service that I then made a point to acknowledge, be truly grateful for.

There are so many ways in which the First Grave Precept has affected my life. Many of the major changes I have made are rooted in my vow to do no harm and to affirm life. Of all of the things this precept has taught me, the need to root ourselves in loving-kindness is one of nourishing.

A Kindness Reminder

I woke up feeling fatigued, anxious and cranky this morning. Just one of those days where I wished I could crawl back under the covers and hide until the world settles down. Instead the grown-up inside my head propelling me through each day reminded me that I was stiff and needed to move around, that I had piles of meetings today, and a long list of tasks.

Today was one of those days when that inner grown-up felt like a bully.

And then my laptop for work booted to just the picture on my desktop and began to emit a high-pitched squeal out of the speakers. Last week I'd discovered that the right single to the speakers wasn't working, not even with headphones. I've had other problems too, but nothing this dramatic. Then it wouldn't boot at all. Around 2PM I tried again out of pure exasperation and it came up.

The morning spent trying to use a Java client to access work files, and having it crash every hour or so, plus a pile of meetings, and a stream of bugs on something I just turned over for testing didn't help with my feeling that the day was just too much, too irritating, too demanding, too much stress.

What did help at the end of my day was a friend sending me a message asking about mindfulness and kindness. I finally responded to them that I now feel that kindness gets rather dismissed in our culture, even seen as a weakness. The nature of kindness, the heart of it lies within the first grave precept, which is also the first of the Yamas in yoga, Ahimsa, or non-harming.

The Zen teacher John Daido Loori writes this precept as such, "Affirm life. Do not kill."

The heart of kindness resides in the directive to affirm life. I was really grateful to my friend for providing me such a good shift in a day that was growing in that feeling of psychic irritation. Where my mind seems to chafe against the difficulties of life and expends energy on devising how to best avoid them (although all ideas seem to lead back to hiding under the covers...). My mind testing the waters of suffering instead of abiding calmly in the present, which really isn't too bad and has some rather glorious moments to it.

Workshop?!

Each month I have a one-on-one phone call with my manager. We discuss what I'm working on, if there are other priorities I should attend to, what is getting in the way of my accomplishing my goals. We usually spend some time talking about ourselves. I often tell her about how my practice is going.

At the end of this year, as I was reflecting on 2008 and my practice with the precepts, how there is one peer at work who really challenges me. I find myself holding onto irritation with behavior of hers that I consider unprofessional. Not just the ways she interacts with me, but the way she treats others. I will have a call with her days after something happens and find myself curt with her, still irritated. Hanging onto the story about the irritation and anger for days.

As I work with the precept to not give rise to anger, rather to seek the source of it, I realized my co-worker offered a perfect opportunity to practice. I had thought about Bhagavan Das saying in the new and amazing production from 1 Giant Leap, What About Me?, that, "Worrying is praying for what you don't want."

In holding onto the anger and irritation it was just another way of praying for what I do not want in my life. I need to practice with working that those emotions, understand where they arise from and move forward from compassion instead. Why not start learning this at work, since I spend so many hours engaged in it.

I finished explaining all of this and some of the ways my teachers have provided insight on how to look deeply. My boss noted that on a very uncomfortable phone call with this person I had managed to interject something that sounded completely calm and supportive even though my manager said she knew I had to be infuriated by the behavior.

She then said that an objective for me around team building this year was to come up with a workshop for the whole team on how to work with irritation, change and uncertainty. Emotions my team has felt very much of this past year especially. KE told me she had this fear that I would become so in demand as a workshop presenter that I'd retire from my job very early. She said she really saw this, really saw me as providing workshops that integrate mindfulness and yoga for people in business, care givers, and trauma survivors.

When I told CK about it later, how I was so surprised and feel like I'm not up to coming up with a workshop for my team she smiled at me. She pointed out how wonderful this is, I now have my day-to-day job willing to pay me to come up with workshops for presentation to business! I hadn't thought of it that way at all, I'd been more focused on feeling entirely unprepared and lacking in skill for this kind of task -- listening to my inner critic!

Looking Back

The first sounds I heard as the year began where fireworks off in the distance. In the silence of the zendo at Great Vow Zen Monastery we knew it was 2008. When zazen ended we rung the bell, 4 times each for each woman attending the retreat adding up to 108. The morning, the first day of the new year, I had offered a vow to not hate it when I cry the next morning, in the company of my Dharma sisters.

The year has given me many opportunities to not hate my tears, not feel like the world is going to end when I cry. Given me many chances to evaluate who I am, greet myself with compassion and truth, and move forward on my way.

AM and CK were the first two people I saw after the retreat ended. I remember feeling my heart skip a beat when I saw them, feeling an important shift. Later I would dismiss it as my being overly-optimistic because I found CK attractive and I was excited that she'd come.

I'd known her just a few weeks at that point. We'd not spent a whole lot of time together in person yet and had exchanged a handful of emails. I did know that I felt a tight, high, nervous feeling in my heart when I was around her. I'd suggested to her that she come out and have lunch at the monastery since she'd be arriving back to Portland while I was in retreat.

I hadn't really expected her to come. I really wanted her to come, but I was trying to keep myself in check and not get my hopes up. The retreat had been very intense, so seeing her felt like this marvelous surprise.

I've been looking back at posts, I haven't looked at my hand-written journals yet. But I can see where the energy started to really shift. I felt it a little at a time, the feeling inside me that I wanted to protect my relationship with CK. The move towards keeping it safe, sheltered until AM and finally decided we really needed to move on from one another.

I am writing before going to the Dharma Center tonight, joining my Sangha and that of Dharma Rain for a potluck, sacred circle dances led by CB, Fusatsu and zazen through the new year. I am really looking forward to be with my community this year, sharing this celebration with them, they have become an important part of my life. I would like to do the Joy in Mindfulness retreat another time, but this year with teacher training it doesn't really make sense from a time or finance perspective.

As the year ends I'm writing while CK folds laundry. An African stew is cooking for us to take to the Dharma Center for the potluck. I made matcha cupcakes just a little earlier. We are settled into these little domesticities with appreciation.

AM is sitting with his Dharma Punx community and will come to the Portland Dharma Center later to join for Fusatsu and zazen. We have hung out the past couple of nights, just watching things like Top Gear and Dr. Who. Have also been joined by DW and many episodes of Battlestar Galactica. I still feel close to him, to them both really, but we all feel the shift in our lives.

The year has worked towards and ending and a beginning. I suppose all years are like that when you look at them, this just feels dramatic because it is my life and it is a rather big change. It feels like the right direction. Not that a relationship doesn't have compromises, but I said to someone this afternoon that in this new way I didn't feel like I compromise in what I needed to be fulfilled, to be my authentic self.

Over and over this year I've learned the practice of the precepts in each moment. There is no way of knowing if I'm making the right choices for 10 years from now. I can only make the best possible choice in accordance with the precepts in each moment. The moments of 2008, looked back at from New Year's Eve, have been joyful and painful, hard and easy, letting go and opening up; I feel in each of them I tried to be mindful of making the best possible choice in each moment.

No Guaranty

I have spent a good part of the day hacking my blog writing up into that which is about my path in life, this blog, and something that is more general about living in Portland, travels, and reviews (food, museums, movies, hikes, etc.). Just creating some space between the things. What I haven't done for a couple of days is actually write.

The past two days have been filled with the intimacy of sharing space and time together, helped by the historic amount of snow Portland has had this past week. CK and I spent Christmas Eve hanging out then baking for the better part of the day, into the evening. Our plan was to have cookies to take to JW's for a Boxing Day bonfire. Christmas was spent inside, just being close and talking.

We opted not to go to the party. The weather has warmed but we now have about a foot of icy slush covering the neighborhood streets. We'd be fine once we got out of the neighborhood, but the two blocks to do so might see us stuck. Instead she and I walked up to Whole Foods to get a couple of things for dinner and we rented a movie.

Most surprising about the past several days here at her flat is how things feel possible, sustainable was the word CK used. Even when it is difficult we both manage to stay present, to be in the moment and not escape, even mentally or emotionally. There is deep passion, unquestionably and it deepens as we grow into the relationship, but it isn't mindless.

This is sometimes still feels sudden and shocking, the transition. I was letting the truth that there's no way to guaranty that I'm making the right decision, that any of us are. There's no method at all to prove that 10 years from now that I'll look back on this and know I was correct. That's the reality of the constancy of change we live in. The only thing we have are the precepts.

Yesterday I was standing at the sink washing dishes and thinking about all of this - me, the history surfacing in my present, the love I feel for CK, the ability to recognize the difference in the way that I love AM, the speed at which things are changing. I felt the woosh of time zooming past me and just looked at how I try, imperfectly most times, to turn towards compassion, truth. Holding all the choices up against the precepts and seeing that I'm doing my best to turn my life towards them.

Fear with Fear

This morning CK and I were walking to MAX to ride into downtown to our respective offices. We had fallen asleep the night before talking about the anxiety felt around all the changes going on. How close we are now and how there is fear that living together full time might compromise that. As we walked the topic resurfaced and CK noted that I wasn't participating.

In part I was just trying to listen, be present and open to her feelings. However, I was also very mindful of the fear I felt rising up inside of me. I was feeling unable to respond to her anxiety without the voice of my fear rising to the top. I didn't want to respond to fear with fear so I was silent.

Finally I just told CK what I was feeling. That I felt afraid of the changes hurting our relationship and was trying to keep silent until I could respond from love and compassion instead of that fear. As I spoke to her I was aware that I wasn't sure it was the best thing to say. I felt relieved at her positive response and that she appreciated knowing why I was silent.

I am sure at times my silence must feel like withdrawal and at times it is, when I pull myself around my pain and shut down to the world. At times, most times now I am just trying to run through all the routines I've developed to keep my anxiety in check, being mindful of the precepts, and trying to find words, hopefully skillful ones.

Since this mental activity is a new tool I'm trying to use for my PTSD I never gave any thought to it being worth sharing with someone what was going on inside my silence.

Transparency

Before going to bed last night I looked carefully at all I'd written about myself, read the truth in it all, and I took another deep breath and wrote to the three members of my sangha who have found me, so far, on Facebook. I've known this was coming, I anticipated it weeks ago and that drove me to talk to HB and RP.

What I've come to see this as is my being authentic all of the time. In the past I kept separate circles. For a little while I tried overlapping them, work and social, but mostly that happened because the place I happened to be working kept hiring out of the same group of poly/queer geeks who all happened to be friends and/or involved with one another. Aside from that anomaly I grew to be more and more compartmentalized in how I interacted with people.

CK summed it up really well over lunch at Habibi today when I mentioned it to her. She noted that it sounded really hard to do. I had to immediately agree. It is difficult trying to compartmentalize myself and I am reminded of the ways in which I chose to put myself into compartments because I believed that's what I needed to do to have someone like me, not leave me.

It takes to much energy to remember all of that and it is not very compassionate to myself nor entirely honest, or at least authentic. When I read about the essential self in Patanjali's Yoga Sutras I was deeply drawn in. That when we still all the thoughts rampaging around in our minds we get to rest in our true nature, who we really are.

I find myself now wanting to always dwell in that place of authenticity. Honoring and loving who I am honestly and transparently regardless of the community I am part of at a given moment. The same person who works most days as a systems analyst is the same person that teaches yoga two days a week, sits with her Dharma community at least one day a week, and studies yoga three additional days a week at this time. I am the same person to my most intimate partners as I am to my friends, co-workers, students, fellow yogis/yoginis, and sangha.

This is the honest way to approach my life now, in keeping with my observation of the Buddhist precepts as well as the yamas and niyamas of Yoga. It is at once the easiest way and a most difficult path. Before I could hide parts of me that one group might find questionable, or I thought they would find questionable. Always shifting to make sure I fit it well, regardless if I really felt the fit inside. Now I'm fully present with the beauty and discomfort of not fitting in.

In truth I've never really fit it. I've always been forced to be something I'm not either by my family, lovers or myself. Playing up some bits, like the over-the-top sexy girly girl, while playing down other essential parts, the nerd who loves more than anything to learn about the world I'm in.

Now that I've just started being who I am all of the time I'm finding myself in circles where it is not only acceptable, but celebrated that I'm different. I've spent the vast majority of my life only revealing bits and pieces of myself at a time. To be surrounded by people & groups where I am safe to reveal my whole self and am still be supported is unsettling at times merely because it is new.

I find it a little sad that truly unconditional love and acceptance is an uneasy feeling for me. At least I'm feeling unsettled over something that is healthy for me. I am grateful for that and the hope that I will spend the rest of my life learning to be comfortable knowing support and love.

High Centered

My two day hiatus from blog writing hasn't been to being away from the computer all weekend. It has been a long, hard weekend in relationship building and I was trying to not interrupt time with CK with writing. The time we were apart I was too agitated to write, didn't even think about trying, and worked on sorting out things in the house.

I have experienced distance physically and emotionally in my relationship since returning from Vancouver. I have been able to observe on an intellectual level that my withdrawal is triggered by old trauma, not the relationship, same as the terrible shame I have felt come up. Regardless of the mind understanding I have felt stuck with the way my body holds onto painful events from the past.

And stuck I have been. We had one morning during OSCON where there was a momentary break in tension and there was space to explore intimacy. We never really got it worked out as to what was causing the problem so it has continued to grow, pushing us further apart and into our own pain. It felt like the relationship is a vehicle high centered on something. Maybe only one wheel able to touch ground at a time while the rest just spin futilely in the air. Stuck.

I've felt the wind knocked out of me over it all. Unable to breath and overwhelmed by how deep the shame is buried in my whole self. I've not really worked with it at all, just trying to focus on processing the tremendous amount of grief and anger at how unfair it all was. But now seems to be the time for it to be acknowledged.

I thought I had touched upon it. This relationship has helped me feel the complete falseness of some of the terrible messages I got as a young child. I'm able to really explore my sexuality with another person and it is safe, nurturing. Then it was gone, only I was sleeping next to her several times a week but no connection was there. We had reached a point we were barely touching once we got to bed, I'd curl into a ball and stay awake while she went to sleep.

At first I was just feeling abandonment, feeling like things were ending. Which wouldn't match up with lunchtime conversations about having a baby, building a home together. Then the shame started to seep in with the fear of being left. I felt wrong for wanting her to touch me, ashamed of the want and like I should be able to control it, make it go away. I felt wrong from wanting to touch her, ashamed of myself for that want and feeling that if something went wrong I'd be punished somehow. I was locked in fear and shame around asking for touch, to touch. I began to settle into my own silence. The "safety" of saying nothing at all.

Today, after a very tough night -- she had unsettled dreams and I kept waking hearing people outside (turned out we'd forgotten to turn off the radio and NPR had come on) -- I had to leave for my class. She told me she wasn't going to the class and I felt hurt, rejected. She said she also wouldn't go to a class today at the dharma center, which I understood but was not happy with. I felt like she snapped at me and my irritation flared to life. It was so hard leaving to teach and I left angry. By the time I got to Dishman I sent a note apologizing for getting angry.

I know that all of the Buddhist precepts are practice, things I have to keep doing over and over again. I've been working really hard at the idea of anger. Not that I can get rid of anger, but to control it, to not give rise to my anger when I feel it. Whenever I fail at anything I feel it so sharply. To fail to control my anger, to snap at CK, leaves me feeling so graceless and inconsiderate. I also know it is unreasonable to expect that I'll always do things the best way possible, I'm trying to let go of that, but to fall down on something and see shock & hurt on her face just feels so much more a failure.

I went back over to her flat after teaching so we could continue to talk. I had spoken with AM to let him know what was up and gave up on the class at the dharma center even though it is on NVC, something I think will help us talk. I said I thought that if we tried to just lay down together and talk about what came up when we did it was just as valid lesson in communicating as going to the class. We had looked at some books on how to heal intimacy -- books that were Jessa's that GK thought I should end up with since I'd finally shared with her that I'd been sexually abused -- and thought about trying some of the sharing activities.

It was so hard. I told her what scared me, what was coming up for me. We talked about how a fear not being in control comes up for her. We talked about how to work on it, offered just compassion to some things, understanding the pain we each feel. We worked on trying to touch each other with lots of communication. I find it so hard to talk aloud and directly, feeling the pull of the shame, but she stuck with me. She would bend close when I felt like I couldn't talk so I could whisper to her instead.

In the past I'd just have not pursued this. I'd have consoled myself with food or distractions and not addressed any of the pain I kept buried. It was considerably easier than this hard, painful work. Only I was miserable, 150 pounds heaver and never distracted enough by that fact.