Thoughts

Yeah, I’m really liking that term, “gentle perseverance.” My efforts don’t have to be driven by my need to prove, to change something or someone, or to be recognized. If I can trust my internal compass and persevere gently, that’s all that matters.

While it was initially rather disturbing to see the headless Buddha on our trail, I have grown to like it as it is. It seems like Buddha really doesn’t mind that his head is gone and now is in an open space without a shelter. He sits there still and quietly without his head observing what’s around unperturbed: the birds, the trees, the animals including us two-legged beings in this woods. I’m only a part of the scene. Equanimity…

As I spent 7 days under the sun and starry sky, listening to the birds, mingling with the friendly and whimsical goat of the land, Kodi, and feeling the sea breeze on our bare skin, I got to viscerally sense that we “belong” to this earth just as the trees, plants and all the beings who shared this land. It reminds me to tread mindfully as I continue to follow the path as guided on this journey. And we shall see where it leads me in the coming days, weeks, months and years.

Some time ago, I asked one of my teachers, Gil Fronsdal, when I was feeling restless in my meditation what the “restlessness” was about. He said it could be a form of greed, which is one of the three states of mind that cause suffering (greed, hatred and delusion) according to Buddha. When I’m restless, my mind is usually telling me all the things I should do, places I should go, and people I should talk to and not having a good plan to accomplish them. That sense of “not enough” feels certainly like greed.

Buddha was born under a tree, got enlightened under a tree and passed away under trees. He spent a lot of time in the nature while he traveled around to disseminate his teachings in the meantime. Short of living a monastic life (although I’ve certainly considered that as well), would there be a place for us where we could live a life close to the nature, respectful of the land and life, and live happily ever after in a friendly, supportive and diverse community? Hmmm it sounds like a tall order… We shall see, right?

This is just another reason I love about living here in the middle of a national forest. Basically, I’m forest bathing 24/7 as long as I’m not gone off the hill. These days having access to the nature is so important and valuable so that we get to understand we, human beings, are simply a part of it. When I am deep in the forest looking up at those trees that must be a few hundred years old, I get to feel that I am only a tiny particle flowing through on this planet called, Earth. In a book by Thich Nhat Hanh, Love Letter to The Earth, he says, “When you realize the Earth is so much more than simply the environment, you will be moved to protect her as you would yourself.” That’s why I spend a lot of time in the woods asking myself, “What can I do to take care of this Earth?”

In our mountain community, which is literally tucked in by Los Padres National Forest, there are pockets of what we call, “green belt.” Basically, these are the areas that were left alone when this community was developed in late 1970s so some of the homes would have views of the forests. The trail I spend a lot of time where I’ve created many of my photos is also on one of those green belts. Recently, the forest services have been doing a lot of clearing. Due to the drought sustained over the last many years, many of the old trees died and became fire hazard. Where it used to feel like a deep forest is now a pretty open field with some healthier old trees still standing. Some of the huge fallen trunks are left in the field and started the process of decaying. Having become so familiar with this forest, I can’t help but notice how these tree trunks would take years and years to decompose after they fell, the in between stage of a tree’s life between being a tree and being a part of the dirt on the ground.

While I seem to be experiencing a flow of joy, excitement and visibility in the last few weeks, there are obviously some shadows hanging over me as mom remains in the hospital. Just like Buddha taught about shifting winds – Eight Worldly Winds, which are pleasure and pain; gain and loss; fame and disrepute; praise and blame, I’m only noticing the randomly shifting winds all the time and choosing to go with the flow without trying to read into the unknown future one day at a time.

Meanwhile I’m grateful to have made it through this intensely unsettling time so far with losses and gains, both heartbreaking and heartwarming in different shades and flavors. So it goes, life keeps happening. The worldly winds keep blowing and shifting, and all I can do is to take one day at a time as mindfully as I can.

Today, I can’t find much more to say other than that I’m so grateful to get to do this work that integrates everything I care about. When things get really busy – as it often does in our life, I keep reminding myself to take one next indicated step at a time trusting that I’m divinely guided. So here I go taking another step forward…

They say “forest bathing (shin rin yoku)” is good for you. They’ve been recognizing that for more than 3 decades in Japan. As Buddha taught, the direct experience counts the most, which is how we develop faith in our practice. I am grateful to have an easy access to the forests let alone a mountain known for its healing energy. What best remedy could I have to practice mindfulness and replenish my depleted soul?

I selfishly prayed my father, grandparents and all the kitties she had would come and pick Mom up while I was still in Japan, but she’s still holding on. She will soon be moved to a hospice facility where she will likely make her transition in the coming weeks. While my heart is filled with a complex mixture of feelings including sadness, anguish, and guilt, I will continue to practice Metta for her so her journey is filled with ease and light. May you be free of suffering, Mom…

Again, I’m reminded of this very constant current of time. Images of my parents in their youth and different stages of their life along with some familiar people, who are mostly gone, only assures of the Four Sufferings (Dukka) of birth, old age, illness and death. As my Dharma mentor, Diana Gould, reassured me when I was feeling rather afraid that I might not be able to survive all this suffering in my life of losing both my cat and my mother in addition to everything that was going on in the world, I’m fortunate to have the practice and the tools it provides to walk through these times without getting lost in the suffering.

I realize I am indeed facing the essence of Buddha’s teachings: We all get old; we all get sick; we all die; and we all lose everything that’s dear to us. This teaching has been in the forefront of my practice for a good while as I knew, like so many of my friends have experienced in the last year of pandemic, the time would come sooner or later when I had to clean my mother’s apartment.

Amidst all this, I’m aware of the underlining anxiety and trepidation I’m feeling that I can only access when I pause long enough. I have not felt the grief about losing my mom, either, until the trip became a reality this week. In a few days, I will be in her apartment — alone — going through her things. I don’t even know when or if I will get to see her between her condition and visitation limit at the hospital. There will be a lot to sort through, reconcile, and let go. Just thinking about what’s ahead brings tears. At the same time, I know I can walk through this. I feel so supported by friends and communities. I will be able to stay connected so I can keep reminding myself I’m not alone and keep taking one step at a time. This is just a part of life journey, and I strive to find freedom in the process of living.

In the recovery programs we learn about what we cannot change and what we can change. We talk about how we turn our life over to the care of the power greater than ourselves. In the mindfulness practice, we learn to take what is in each moment without judging, resisting or clinging. Also Buddha talked about how we’re all subject to aging, getting sick, dying AND losing all that are dear to us, and taught us to face these facts of life honestly and sincerely (my interpretation.)

In a way keeping my mind so busy with all the things to “figure out” is probably my defense mechanism of avoiding my feelings. Unlike when my kitty, Nicola, was declining and ultimately passing away, I haven’t had a chance to really feel into the eminent loss of my mother. Having the distance and time from her, it’s hard to grasp the grief viscerally. And I’m terrified that I will have to face it alone in quarantine when I get there.

Meanwhile, so much has happened to us – all of us while the Mother Earth went around the orbit of the sun. I think there are some parts of our lives that we can’t even recognize from a year ago. Things seem to be unfolding so quickly it’s hard to tell what’s going where.

My wish is to be there for Mom and hold her hand as she makes her departure. But obviously, I have no control other than to just take the next indicated action. So it goes, my journey as an Asian daughter who left her home country and her family behind. At the time I naturalized, it was inconceivable that I would not be able to travel home as I wished. Yet such is the “Inconstancy” in life that Buddha taught. I’m trying to respond to whatever arises with open awareness noticing my body, emotions and thoughts. Really all I can do is to do one thing at a time trusting things will work out anyway. My next indicated action is to get vaccinated as soon as I am eligible as of April 1.

I live a relatively comfortable and privileged life as a first generation Japanese American woman married to a white man living in Southern California. I do not have family members who were stripped of their livelihood and incarcerated during the war. Yet I carry the legacy of Japan, which initiated the war with Pearl Harbor Attack and consequently devastated by America’s victory as well as its own aggression (though in Japanese history text book, it was called, “advancement” ) in East Asian countries previously. That’s only just within the last century. The history has many more dark memories that still needs reconciliations and healings.