After Missing the Recluse on the Western Mountain

To your hermitage here on the top of the mountain

I have climbed, without stopping, these ten miles.

I have knocked at your door, and no one answered;

I have peeped into your room,

At your seat beside the table.

Perhaps you are out riding,

Or fishing, more likely, in some autumn pool.

Sorry though I am to be missing you,

You have become my meditation.

The beauty of the grasses, fresh with rain,

And close beside the window the music of pines,

I take into my being all that I see and hear,

Soothing my senses, quieting my heart;

And though there be neither host nor guest,

Have I not had a visit complete?

The afternoon fades, I make my way

Back down the mountain.

Why should I wait for you any longer?

-Ch-iu Wei

Our lives change in fundamental ways when someone we love dies.  Death, along with love, really are the unopened gifts that can pass by. Rilke captures a poignant link in our daily lives. The loss of a loved one is traumatic and the mourning that follows dramatically alters our lives. The journey is difficult, our fears about the unknown are brought into our conscious awareness with overwhelming force. The shock and disbelief at the beginning eventually gives way to deep sadness, anger, and confusion. Our minds struggle to reorient to a life without someone who is always there. When I am sharing the therapy space with someone who is grieving, we take into our being all that we see and hear. We find healthy ways to soothe painful thoughts and feelings. We use the time to make our way back down the mountain and into a new life.

 Wanting to go to the eastern cliff

Setting out now after

How many years

Yesterday I used the vines

To pull myself up

But halfway there

Wind and mist made

The going tough

The narrow path grabbed

At my clothes

The moss so slippery

I couldn’t proceed

So I stopped right here

Beneath this cinnamon tree

Used a cloud as a pillow

And went to sleep

-Han-shan

I think of the time someone walks into my office for an appointment as an opportunity to pause. When the door closes, and they take their seat or lie down on the couch we share a space in time that allows us to consider the thoughts and feelings they are experiencing that day. Their journey is the context for our conversation. We focus on the goals that bring them into treatment and the struggles that are making the journey tough going. There are times when it feels like the path is covered in slippery moss and it feels impossible to proceed. We can pause and use the time to consider the obstacles with our open minds and hearts. The shared space allows us to explore new possibilities. When we sleep, we dream, and in our dreaming anything is possible. Our creative self can be used to open our minds to the waking dream of change and renewal.

 Know the essence of mind.

Its intrinsic essence is pure clarity.

It is essentially the same as a Buddha.

Know the functions of mind.

Its functions produce the treasury of teachings.

When its activity is always silent,

Myriad illusions become suchness.

 -Tao-hsin (580-651)

To be essentially the same as a Buddha does not imply some omnipotent grandiose sense of self. The effort to quiet our thinking and connect to the present moment allows clarity to emerge and provide us with an opportunity to understand our thoughts and feelings in a loving and compassionate way. Our fears and anger are functions in our mind. They emerge in response to experiences and influence our engagement in the world. Our tendency to be as others want us to be is a fundamental part of life. We become ashamed or resentful when the needs of others dominate our lives in unyielding ways. The myriad illusions are the truths we have cultivated from those experiences. The serenity we all seek is the essence of mind.  By giving ourselves an opportunity to pause and sit as a Buddha in a safe space we can achieve moments of quiet that will allow new truths based on compassion and loving-kindness to be cultivated.