Good Morning Everyone,
Something happened this morning . I was writing a reply to a comment on the Tricycle blog when, as I was sharing the back-story with Soku Shin, the reply itself was lost. I felt a real sense of loss, as I know that I will not be able to re-capture the thing. It’s not the words, you see, it’s the gestalt in the moment of producing the words that cannot be re-captured. I must be careful today not to allow this loss to infiltrate my perception. To do this I am going back into the sense of it now.
The theme of the reply was to an Open Heart. Open Hearts require strength. They require authenticity of their own. To be an Open Heart I must be willing to expose my heart to the suffering, anger, and hurt of others, whether those feelings are directed elsewhere or toward me.
Open Hearts require a relentless practice. A practice that involves going inside with hammer and pick to fearlessly chip away at all the walls I have built to protect myself, while calling those walls, clothes. The clothes I use, which is to say, the various roles and accomplishments, skills and assets, I think I possess, are just ways of keeping things out, or keeping myself in, and it is through my practice that I began to see this.
My heart, while open, has been so hidden for so long behind “Dr.”, behind “Roshi,” behind “Dad”, behind “I’m good at…” or “I’ve done…” that it has not been actually open to receive the hearts of others when they were brave enough to become vulnerable in front of me. It has taken many years, particularly the last two in relationship with Soku Shin, to get some serious cracks going.
As Leonard Cohen says, it’s the cracks that lets the light get in. As I posted in a comment on that Trike blog, I am practicing to be an ancient cup with lots and lots of cracks.
Be well.
Something happened this morning . I was writing a reply to a comment on the Tricycle blog when, as I was sharing the back-story with Soku Shin, the reply itself was lost. I felt a real sense of loss, as I know that I will not be able to re-capture the thing. It’s not the words, you see, it’s the gestalt in the moment of producing the words that cannot be re-captured. I must be careful today not to allow this loss to infiltrate my perception. To do this I am going back into the sense of it now.
The theme of the reply was to an Open Heart. Open Hearts require strength. They require authenticity of their own. To be an Open Heart I must be willing to expose my heart to the suffering, anger, and hurt of others, whether those feelings are directed elsewhere or toward me.
Open Hearts require a relentless practice. A practice that involves going inside with hammer and pick to fearlessly chip away at all the walls I have built to protect myself, while calling those walls, clothes. The clothes I use, which is to say, the various roles and accomplishments, skills and assets, I think I possess, are just ways of keeping things out, or keeping myself in, and it is through my practice that I began to see this.
My heart, while open, has been so hidden for so long behind “Dr.”, behind “Roshi,” behind “Dad”, behind “I’m good at…” or “I’ve done…” that it has not been actually open to receive the hearts of others when they were brave enough to become vulnerable in front of me. It has taken many years, particularly the last two in relationship with Soku Shin, to get some serious cracks going.
As Leonard Cohen says, it’s the cracks that lets the light get in. As I posted in a comment on that Trike blog, I am practicing to be an ancient cup with lots and lots of cracks.
Be well.
2 comments:
to fearlessly chip away at all the walls
My sense is that the walls are already cracked,even broken, and that any sort of aggression in that direction will only serve to strengthen them... (speaking that is, in my sometimes role of fierce aggressor)... I am beginning to learn that patience and forgiveness are far more effective strategies...
Thank you, rudi. I believe you are right in this. I do think, though, we should always be prepared to use what works. Sometimes a hammer, sometimes a smile, sometimes nothing at all. Forbearance might just have to be the subject of one of my endless missives. :)
Post a Comment