|During the ceremony|
It's also interesting wearing robes. I like it. It feels simple. I don't really know how to do it, so there are hazards. Like walking upstairs and tripping over them, or wrapping them so tight that I can't sit on the floor! I had it pretty much figured out for the ceremony.
Today: brunch with Trebor (visiting from Berlin), Laura, Jon and Julie, at Pomelo in Noe Valley, and a stroll to the excellent chocolate store. After a nap, Pasadini (visiting from Scotland) and I went to Sports Basement, REI, and T Joe's. I often find shopping such a chore, it's great to go with someone!
I feel good, tired.
Here is an excerpt from my journal during Hridayashri's ordination retreat:
|The "Tender Hearts" chapter |
From left, Karunadevi, me, Hridayashri,
Padmatara, Dayamudra, and Viveka
Identity seems to be fading a bit. I thought it might.
Am I young or old? Sick or healthy? Weak or strong? Rich or poor? A meditator or not? Worthy or unworthy? Anxious or calm? Tolerant or irritable? These identities come into sharp relief as words that stop meaning anything.
Who is my self? Where is my self? Who is the self that angsts, that narrates, that projects into the future? They don't feel like me. They feel like something happening.
Wow. All that meditating. Now let me think...I have been here seven full days. Including morning pujas and sitting meditations, I've meditated...260 minutes a day. So 30 hours since I've been here. I had one rewarding meditative experience today, say for around half an hour or an hour. Is that a good reward, good odds? You can't even know for sure that anything like that is going to happen. You can meditate for years and it doesn't happen (potentially). Of course the rest of it was good. It's not like that was torture. If it were I couldn't spend 30 hours voluntarily doing it. It's a kind of being - or leaning in a direction of a kind of being - that is its own reward.
But "astonishing" is an epithet concealing a logical trap. We're astonished, after all, by things that deviate from some well-known and universally acknowledged form, from an obviousness to which we've grown accustomed. But the point is, there is no such obvious world.