I am listening to Beethoven’s
Moonlight Sonata, and I visualize him full of passion and longing and grief – a
passion that brings forth this sad but beautiful music.
I struggle with this passion,
a lifelong friend and challenger. What
is this? What is this driving
insatiableness? Earlier in life it felt like sexual
desire. And now it
doesn’t. I once was an actress, using
this passion to express myself, but once the curtain fell, the thrill was gone,
and the passion has been as strong as ever.
One of the greatest causes of
suffering is the feeling that one’s life is unsatisfactory. So I cultivate gratitude as the antidote, but
I know deep in my heart that I am still desperately dissatisfied. And then I am disturbed that I must not be
grateful enough. What do I want? What would fill me up?
I am practicing Soto Zen from
the same place of longing and passion. Zen
could be seen as both easy and difficult.
Easy because there is no dogma and no fixed beliefs to which I must
subscribe. And this is a good thing,
because I have arrived at a state of intellectual anarchy. And yet I have faith that sitting zazen is
the way. To what?
Now that is the hard
part. We are meaning constructing beings
and our passion and longing is for some kind of coherence. Do we need this because of our certain death
– and as an older person, I think of this daily – or because there is something
we need to become, to actualize?
Whenever I hear Mary Oliver’s line about how are we going to live “our
one and precious life”, I cringe. Don’t
remind me. I need to chill out around
this. I need to relax. I shouldn’t take things so seriously.
Wouldn’t it be great if “just
sitting” was enough? I think the spin on
“just sitting” in Zen could mean to focus on zazen and not on scriptures or
other forms. But the “just” might mean:
drop all hope of identity and purpose in this lifetime. Drop all aspirations and longings and passions
– even for the good stuff.
I think this is what Zen is
about. Just being yourself. Clinging to nothing. Now we all know these words very well, but
there is a reason that bodhisattvas are called “fearless.” Because if you really, really drop all hope
for meaning and identity, you might end up in a very scary place.
On the other hand, passion
and fire may be our very selves. To be
alive is to be passionate. The practice may be just to sit with that
passion and expect nothing.
Yes, drop all identity and purpose. What is left?
ReplyDeletejust me
ReplyDelete