The Freedom of Schedules

So we've tucked the first week of the new year under our belt and if we ate too many Christmas goodies that belt may be bulging a bit (but who wants to talk about that?).  I want to talk schedules. What do you think about schedules? Yeah me too. I've never been a scheduley sort of person.  But I thought, new year, try something new, right?  I have some projects I want to actually happen, time that seems to have slipped deftly through my fingers and toes.  It's easy to suffer from this little syndrome that Fran Leibowitz describes here: "When I'm supposed to be writing, I clean my apartment, take my clothes to the laundry, get organized, make lists, do the dishes. I would never do a dish if I didn't have to write."

It's so easy for the days to morph into weeks and merge with the months; project lists remaining as large and unfinished as ever.  When my friend the Zen monk asked about what I've done with my writing and I mumbled something about working on it this winter in the long evenings, she gently said, "you know if you don't slot in the time, it's not going to happen."  Those words have been wandering around my head, occasionally tripping over the empty canvases on the studio floor.

 So with my daughter home for a bit and both of us with projects in mind we sat down to create schedules.  We identified things we wanted to do on one list and then created a loose daily schedule that involved meditation first thing, a couple of 2 hour work blocks where I slotted in painting and writing, an exercise slot and the evening for sketching, listening to Dharma talks and whatever.  I have never really worked by a schedule.  Perhaps I have made some weak attempts on occasion but somehow that tricky customer slipped quietly out into the winter fog.  And before you take me for a total slacker, let me clarify, I'm only a partial slacker.  If I become obsessed with something the hours can pass without much else happening.  I can get on track, it's getting off the track before the train comes that can be a problem. A day of painting can easily end without a walk.  That's another issue I hope a schedule might address.

So scheduling seemed a good way to help me move from one activity to another, also a way of ensuring a particular activity got started.  I'm visualizing my schedule like one of those cute little shelves with compartments that I can pop things into; like the ones I've noticed on tumblr (whoops, that's not in the schedule, is it?). In the past I thought of schedules as way too bossy (kind of like those automatic check-outs  at the big box stores that shout "put your item in the bag"), too left brained, too business oriented, nothing an artsy sort would want or need.  Just the thought of a schedule would make my face screw up like I'd just tasted a cup of wormwood tea.

So when I asked myself "what is the essence of a schedule, why would I want to do this?"  It's about discipline, about holding and containing, about bringing order.   And if I think about Buddhist practice I see that mindfulness is simply discipline for the mind?  Instead of letting the mind roam wildly over whatever craziness strikes it, we attempt over and over to bring it back to the present moment.  As RM Jiyu Kennet Of the Order of Buddhist Contemplatives used to say, "the mind makes a good servant but not a very good master."  So really what am I doing with my schedule but trying to take charge of my time, it's discipline for the parameter of time.  Dogen, in his sobering way reminds us, "Quickly the body passes away. In a moment life is gone."  Not to be morbid, but just a good reminder to us to get on with it.

And how is my schedule going, you ask with a sly grin?  Pretty well to my surprise.  The exercise right after lunch part isn't working out too well.  In fact the exercise thing in general requires some attention.  And I forgot to schedule in a sleep in morning (my body decided that was today).  But so far I have actually started work on a little e-book that's in the future plans and have managed to get in some serious painting time.  A little sketching project is underway.  And we have built in a day for reassessing the schedule and adjusting it as needed.  That will happen Tuesday.

As always there is some Dharma in it all.  About midweek I could see some grimness creeping in, some feeling that I was being chased around by my "schedule".  My mind starting singing a little song that went, "this schedule is taking the joy out of everything."  And when I looked at this I could see it had nothing to do with "the schedule" but everything to do with my attitude, how my mind was regarding the schedule.  I could look at it as a jailer or a liberator, or perhaps I don't even have to think about it at all?  In a great little book I picked up second hand "The Art of Abstract Painting", by Rolina van Vliet she say in a section called "Freedom in restraint, "Limits encourage more intensive exploration.   ... direction and limitation activate our creativity more than does superficially wandering about among an overabundance of alternatives." She is specifically addressing the learning phase of a task. I think this is not the whole truth or always the truth, but for me, at this point, the schedule is "the restraint" and within it I can choose freedom, the freedom to get done what my heart ultimately longs to do but my wandery mind and  fearful ego shy away from.

The Dharma of Bugs Bunny

That's me as a little dot in the snow. Puts it all in perspective, don't you think? We spend most of our days thinking whatever is going on in our world and our personal needs are the most important thing, well at least to us. We spend a lot of time arranging the world to suit us. But if we are honest with ourselves the reality is more like this picture. It is one of our biggest delusions, that the world is here to make us happy.

I have had lots of time to watch what my little self gets up to during the recent luscious snowfall here that ground everything to a halt and knocked power out for 2 days. The snow was beautiful -- at first, and then when we'd run out of water and the toilet didn't flush and it was getting a mite chilly, I decided I didn't like this game anymore. Ah the comfort seeking human. Give me a latte when I come in from the cold and a computer to plunk away at and the snow is quite delightful. I remember a talk by Tenzin Palmo where she says something like: "if you want to find the most comfortable seat in the house, look where the cat or dog is sleeping." She reminds us that we can do better than to simply be comfort seekers, that while this may be our inclination, that is not what this precious life is for.

As day 2 of powerlessness lumbered to a slow close I felt the restless agitation of wondering when the magical sound of the fridge coming on might occur. A few hours? A few days? Longer? It wasn't so much the events of the day, it was the spin the busy, fussy mind put on it. Of course there were the lovely walks around the pond decked out in its delicious snowiness with a sugary skim of ice that the ducks danced on. And the moonlight on the snow made up some for the missing lights. And dinner by candle light. And qi gong by moonlight. And living by the rhythm of the day, like some ancient druidic being.

But the mind found more to stir itself up, missed deliveries of reno materials and work schedules buried under a layer of snow. There was the mind turning little somersaults (or should that be wintersaults) and jumping up and down like Yosemite Sam ( I know you Bugs Bunny fans are out there studying the Dharma). I got to see the stark cold facts, (lame pun intended). I am pretty attached to lights and my computer and a warm bed (I think I might have been a dog or cat in my former life). And when the power made its long awaited debut, I noticed how I flinched with each subsequent flicker, how I furrowed my brow at the evening gusts of wind as I filled bowls of water (just to be prepared). Do you know how much snow you have to melt to make a pot of coffee, flush a toilet??

I got to see that age old Dharma lesson: storms happens, suffering is optional. Suffering is a product of the mind, the mind clinging to it's ridiculous desires about how life should unfold. Yet we fall for this little sucker time after time. And of course in the grand scheme of things this was a small event, but still an opportunity to study the self. (And Dogen reminded us, "to study the self is to forget the self, to forget the self is to be enlightened by everything.")

And finally when I had harassed myself enough I decided it was time to put my mind on notice and get out some paints, find a half finished canvas and sit down by the fire. It was time to simply get on with life. I told my mind I was taking the high road. I've heard it's less crowded.

Caution

Sigh, no fresh studio treats today, kids.    Just crusty leftovers, slightly blue, even (which I guess is fine for pictures and some cheeses).  If it were dinner I might call it tilt.   An old Winnipeger taught me the word.  You just tilt the fridge and whatever comes out, well that's dinner.   In this case we have studio tilt.  I was busy putting finishing touches on studio stuff; making tags, and generally trying to create order from chaos for a couple of upcoming shows.  Two birds, no stones.  

So we're looking at a somewhat focus challenged shot taken on the same ferry ride as the "Push" photo of a few days ago.  You can see the reflection of me in my dorky hat which I have succumbed to wearing for extended sun stays. There's a few things going on here that I like.  I am text obsessed and slightly reflection obsessed so it's more about obsession than photography.  And quite unintentionally the shot is out of focus.  But in the end I think that blurry , fogginess is just a perfect part of the statement.  We're talking illusions here, tricks of the mind.  What is real?  What's reflected back to us?  How often does our confusion or fogginess prevent us from seeing the truth?  Who knew a 45 minute ferry ride could offer so much Dharma?

I liked the "surface may be" text.  Seems very zen.  It hints at illusion, don't you think?  Surface may be.  We don't know for sure.  Surface may not be.  It begs the question what's real and what's not?  Is this world a dream?  Do we create our own reality?  It's pretty subjective when you get right down to it.  What we think, what we expect, what we believe all influence (or should I say create) our reality.  If you believe the someone can cast a spell on you and cause your death, this could be your reality.  If you expect you are going to have a bad day,  what happens to you?  Do you set up some kind of energetic domino effect?  How powerful are your thoughts?  How powerful are our emotions?  Do we draw similar energy to us?

I will end with a poetic quote from Dogen:      "To what shall I liken this world

Moonlight, reflected

  In Dewdrops

   Shaken From A Crane's Bill

Are You Pushy?

I am pushing it.  Not the door.  The boundaries of what I said I would do.  I said I would post a piece of art for 30 days and technically the picture hanging just above us is a piece of art.  It's photo art, not something glued or pasted or painted.  Not the usual.  And I didn't take it today.  It reminds me a bit of "miksang" photography where the aim is to see things in a new and fresh way.  I took this on the ferry to Cortes Island a while back.  I had a lot of fun taking  pictures of parts of the slightly tub-like ferry.

The little torn push seemed profound to me somehow.  Isn't that what we do a lot of the time.  We push in subtle (and not so subtle) ways to get what we want, to control our environment.    I noticed the subtlety of my wanting and pushing today in conversation with my partner.  I asked a question and then for some reason I noticed something I probably do quite often.  Just the look on my face, the tone of voice, a certain tightness of presence carried a message about the answer I wanted.  It wasn't a question asked with an open, waiting quality.  There was a quality of wanting.  And as I became aware of it I could let it go and open.  And interestingly, I  could feel myself relax.  I was released from being the answer police, pacing back and forth waiting for the "right" response.  A small example of how we  push to control our world.

We push at our partners.  We want them to please us, make things easy, do what we want.  We push at our children, thinking we know best, they should just do things our way, it would be easier for everyone.   We spend an inordinate amount of time trying to push and mould the world into something that pleases us.  When in fact, as I realized today, this is stress producing behaviour.  Is it Dogen who said "the way is not difficult for those who do not pick and choose."  The effort we exert in the pushing not only tires us out and wears us down, but if we really got it, we'd see how futile it is. We  know in our heads  that "we are not in control here" but frequently forget it as we go about our business.  

And as always there is a flip side to push (no it isn't pull).  There are places in our lives where a little push can be a good thing.  I'm thinking of my old friends sloth and torpor.  They need a good push every once in a while.  And how about our training.  Sometimes we need to turn up the heat a bit on that.  I will end with one of my favourite quotes from Dogen: "Train like your hair is on fire."  This has always grabbed me on so many levels, just the image of someone (me) running down the street with their hair on fire, does it get any more urgent than that.  Now I'm thinking of a new personal Zen grooming product, perhaps hair igniter, followed by a spritz of cool mint hair extinguisher.  Ah if it were only that easy.

Enjoy Your Difficulties

"Sometimes it was difficult, but if it was difficult, I laughed at myself. Why is it so difficult?  Why don't you enjoy your difficulties?  That is, I think, the practice."  Suzuki Roshi

"Why don't you enjoy your difficulties?"  Now there is both a tall order and a good question.  A Dharma friend and I were walking and talking about our lives and touched briefly on this question.  We came at it from Dogen's angle of "the way is not difficult for those who do not pick and choose," which I believe is not quite so enthusiastic as "enjoying your difficulties."  We talked about how quickly and with subtlety we carve the world up into what we like and don't like, rather than just paddle along in the sea of experiences.  And then we get trapped in our preferences and dislikes, even ones that seem good.  She loves being outdoors in nature, nothing wrong with that but she is aware of how that can create tension and yearning in her life that create suffering.

If I think of laughing at my difficulties, it is hard to imagine.  Mostly I recoil from them, push them away, moan about them.  When I actually approach this idea I imagine it to feel quite freeing and light and detached, to laugh at my difficulties.  I am so intrigued by this idea, that I want to try it.  I want to remember it for the right time when some giant juicy difficulty gets itself in my face.  I want to remember to say to myself, just laugh, Carole.  Lighten up.  It's not that important, it's not that big a deal, this too shall pass.  And burst out into a big belly laugh.

Suzuki Roshi boils it all down to "this is our practice."   This position of enjoying our difficulties integrates all of practice in his mind.  If  we can laugh at our difficulties, we are not caught up in our ego, we have given up our attachment to having things our way.  To get to this place we understand impermanence in our blood and bones.  It could be the result of years of practice or a sudden flash of insight.  It is something that we cannot force with our will or make happen.  We can work toward it, aspire to it and yet we need to be patient.  It strikes me as the ultimate freedom; the explicit expression of "it's not important" that could take in so much about what we worry or fret about.  In my mind a good laugh is full of release and relaxation at a body level as well as an attitude of mind.  It is the ultimate act of looking up.  Like a mad man or a sane person throwing our head back  and having the ultimate laugh at ourselves, thoroughly enjoying our difficulties.

Dogen And Cheese Blintzes

I did a few paintings a while back, using only shades of grey with lots of texture and in the end they please me.  I think there is something about the rough texture and slightly crude form that I like.  I call this one "Dogen's Boat" because it has a quote from Dogen collaged on to it that says: "When riding in a boat, if one watches the shore one may assume that the shore is moving.  But watching the boat directly one knows it is the boat that moves."

I think Dogen is talking about perspective here, about where we place our eye and the difference between truth and illusion which is tricky business.  What I have been experiencing today as Dharma may not be an exact experience of what Dogen is talking about but I think there is some relation.  Today I took my soon to be 94 yr old mother to the doctor.  Lately, after much work (years in fact) I thought to myself I am making friends with my mother.  She no longer pushes my buttons in the same old way.  And then I realized that yes I am making friends with my mother but really I am making friends with myself.  I have done enough work on this that I am no longer stirring up trouble, making myself irritated at the things she does.  I don't read things in to her every action.  I don't take things personally.  In short I have come to see the "truth" of how things are.  I have come to accept her and myself.  We are no longer doing the age old misery tango that we have done for so many years.

I still listen to what she says and think that it has a negative bend to it, that her glass has a hole in the bottom and is more than half empty.  And that makes me feel sad for her.  But I can see that  life can be difficult for those of us with a practice, who spend time reflecting  and working  with what we do.   So how difficult is it when you have nowhere to rest all your troubles and grievances?  Today my partner and I could even have a good old laugh about some of her comments, no ranting and grumbling on my part, no need for him to commiserate, just a good old laugh and on with the day.  And so there I was in a boat with my mother eating cheese blintzes and poppy seed cake and both of us were enjoying ourselves thoroughly!

To Forget The Self

One of my favourite things to do on New Year's Eve is look back at the old year.  Somehow doing that helps ground me before I look forward to my hopes and aspirations for the coming year.  This has been a big year for me.  As my friend and raw food chef Jim Maurice (check him out at rawsomelivingfoods.ca) refers to it, I have had a "health opportunity" this year.  It has helped me look more deeply at my life, about what really matters and reminded me to do some things when my natural position is to avoid the difficult and procrastinate.  Toward the end of the year I found a helpful stance.  "Don't take yourself so seriously, relax and do it (whatever was on my mind).  Abandon perfectionism and self doubt, and over thinking.  

I think of  the mixed media work shown here as a bit dark.... a stiff and bandaged figure (that's gauze bandages that form this being).  The background is formed by the words of Zen master Dogen "To study the self, is to know the self, to know the self is to forget the self, to forget the self is to be enlightened by the ten thousand things."  This work sums up the "self" for me.  As my Zen teacher would say we are such vulnerable little creatures, silly little creatures sometimes.... so painfully self centred, touchy and self protective most of the time.  But there you have it the human condition....We are all in this same boat together.  So when someone does something that offends or annoys it is so helpful to remember that just like us they are trying to be happy, just like us they are doing the best they can.  Now there is our work...trying to loosen the grip of this little self, increasing our kindness and compassion in difficult situations.  (It's easy to be nice when things are going well!)

So while it has been a difficult year for me in many ways it has been one of the most fruitful, with so much learning  happening at a deep experiential level.  Recently I read somewhere that when we can see experiences that we would normally reject as "medicine for healing" we will embrace them in the same way as those things we find desirable.

So in saying good bye to the old year I would like to mention the passing of local artist Jimmy Wright, who I only spoke to on a few occasions but I found myself deeply touched by his passing.  I loved his huge iconic polar bears and bulls (after all I am a Taurus).  When I heard he had died I felt a real sense of loss that there would not be any more new Jimmy Wright polar bears born into the world.  And in closing my thoughts for the new year are taken from a friend who has had an enlightening health challenge of her own.  I can't express a better way to approach life in any year.  Eden's little prayer is  "Please don't let me take anything personally and I'm just glad to be here."  May we all find the wisdom to live from that place in 2009.  Be well, be happy!  Be present for your life!