I am up at midnight, the last night of our Rohatsu retreat, not sitting in meditation. I am alone in my room. It's a moment of, not doubt, but knowing. My life is still determined in a small space, doing things on a device can that stop working anytime. But then, I am a device that could stop working at any time. And still, we work right now.
The zendo is so very quiet. But I know, just a short walk away from me, there are several men sitting zazen in another room. I have fed them for two days. Not far on the other side of them, sleeps a marvelous woman who finds a good deal of joy working with the sick. Comforting them. She has been a great comfort to me.
Three days ago she shaved my head. I asked her to do it. No, I won't be going around bald for the rest of my life. But I have always been happier with very short hair. I wanted to know, just once, what it is like to have none at all. I finally see my scars from past wounds. Exactly what the shape of my head is. My head still shows how my skull settled within days of being born. My skin shows how little I've been able to take good care of myself, because for a long time I could not see the use.
Now, without the hair, I see my real face. In spite of worries about what I can manage next, and bursts of memories that still make me angry or sad, I am happier than I have ever been. I am where I should be. I am not leading a false life. I am becoming less judgmental. More observant. As I spend time with people who want their own real faces, and their real lives. And are all right with that. Not just for themselves, but for others.
I know that there will be interruptions in this kind of peace. But I will remember when the interruptions come that it is best to just be as quiet as my friends are now. Rest. And let the quiet think for me until I am revived.
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This is beautiful, Sana. xo