Ready, set, go...home!

Zen means meditation, and meditation means keeping a not-moving mind from moment to moment. It is very simple. When we meditate, we are only using certain techniques to control our body, breathing, and mind so that we can cut off all thinking and realize true nature. Many people think that in order to do this, we must be sitting rigidly on the floor with both legs tightly crossed in a half- or full-lotus position, completely unmoving...

True meditation is not just dependent on how you keep your body: from moment to moment, how do you keep your mind? How do you keep a not-moving mind in every situation? Thus, true meditation means mind-sitting. Keeping a not-moving mind in any situation or condition is the true meaning of meditation.

--Zen Master Seung Sahn, Compass of Zen

This morning I got up and happily prepared for the first day of Mysore practice at the Starbucks Studio. As I pulled into the parking lot, I thought, "Is today the right day?"

I was reassured to see Returning Guy waiting there in his car. As I got out of my car, he opened his door and said, "Is today the right day?"

"April 3," I said. "Is today April 3?" We both stared at each other blankly.

"We're not very good readers," I said.

"Well, we read right," he said, "But we heard what we wanted to hear."

"Okay, then, see you Saturday at led class." And off we drove.

It's a little hard shifting focus from one plan to the next. I was tempted to bag practice because of the change in...well, in reality. But I managed to drive home and practice in the yoga room. I felt vaguely discombobulated, but practice was good enough. It was one of those days where I felt kind of self-critical. Not my favorite, but at least they don't happen too often. Not unlike the occasions where the cat finds and consumes food I leave out by mistake. It doesn't happen often (last time was about 2 years ago when I left vanilla cupcakes on the counter to cool and went shopping for a few hours) but it's always unpleasant when it does. Last night he found a container of flour tortilla chips and made a (very messy) feast of them. When you run flour and oil through a feline system, the result is quite nasty. Nastier, even, than vanilla cupcakes. Just FYI.

And thus begins a new week.