I called in to work today.
With the aches and pains, no way I could sit at a desk all day.
With everything kicking around my mind, no way I could concentrate.
And apparently I was tired.
I thought it was morning. I got up and looked at the clock. 12:15 p.m.
Here's what I know:
Sesshin was difficult, but it was beautiful. It will not be my last.
I like the order. The mindfulness. The everything-in-its-placeness of sesshin. Home is not like that. It will be tough to carry that mindfulness in the disorder and chaos of the real world. Tough, but doable.
I don't want to fight anymore. I'll have fights waiting for me when I return to work. I left fights behind. I want to find the balance between being a pushover and carrying that burden of anger and bitterness with me everywhere I go.
I love the quiet. I spend so much of time drowning out my thoughts with pointless conversation, with music, with DVDs, with books, with the news. The quiet has more to tell us about how things really are than all those other things together.
And I love my family. Deeply. Completely. I am glad to be home with them. Glad to see their faces and hear their voices and feel their hugs and kisses.
So much of what seems to matter day to day just doesn't matter at all. Isn't worth a fraction of the time and energy we give it. I would like to remember that.
I will work on that simple idea: Just Let The Story Go. Be here. Be present. Let the story go.