In the past few weeks I've had the opportunity to speak with several people one-on-one about their practice. In each case, the person in question was finding renewed aspiration and renewed resolve to enter into the fray of seeing into what there is to see into.
What none of them understand is what their grit and pluck and wonder does for my practice.
It takes me back to my first halting attempts at the koan, to that initial sense that I was embarking on the task of a lifetime, to the fear and awe and frustration and strange sense of comfort that walking the same path as all Buddhas and bodhisattvas brought with it.
It brings me back to the present, to all the ways in which I still get stuck in the well-worn habit tracks laid down by greed, anger and confusion.
It bids me press on, knowing that the Dharma does not disappoint and that countless ages will not suffice to plumb it completely.
What a gift, this koan practice – so unlike anything else and yet so absolutely straightforward and plain at the same time!
What none of them understand is what their grit and pluck and wonder does for my practice.
It takes me back to my first halting attempts at the koan, to that initial sense that I was embarking on the task of a lifetime, to the fear and awe and frustration and strange sense of comfort that walking the same path as all Buddhas and bodhisattvas brought with it.
It brings me back to the present, to all the ways in which I still get stuck in the well-worn habit tracks laid down by greed, anger and confusion.
It bids me press on, knowing that the Dharma does not disappoint and that countless ages will not suffice to plumb it completely.
What a gift, this koan practice – so unlike anything else and yet so absolutely straightforward and plain at the same time!
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