The Cauldron of Transformation

Thought I knew what that was. Turned out I didn't have any idea until now. Five days of sitting, walking (barely - about a foot a minute), sitting, bowing, sitting, oryoki (ritual eating), bowing, sitting, walking, (drink tea, go to the bathroom, sit in a real chair) sitting, bowing, sitting walking.....you get the idea. Physically, emotionally, mentally rigorous.

It burns away everything until you can begin to touch the space between the notes, and then contemplate the possibility that there are no notes.

Drove my car home at about 18 mph. Granted, it was slippery, but that just made me not look like an idiot for driving home at 18 mph. Seemed fast to me.

Rohastu Sesshin Day 3 Haiku:
A figure of stone
Scoured and worn by wind and sand
Each breath sets me free

Rohastus Sesshin Day 4:
At 5:30 am I watched the snow skitter across the lake ice.

I wanted to write a poem.
Something about how the wind blew snow ghosts across the thin, hard ice,
while underneath, the water lay still;
dark, deep and liquid.

Then the dawn broke
and I could see that the waves had shattered the night's ice,
and what I had seen was the surface of the lake
rippled by the wind.

Good thing I didn't write that poem.

Rohastu Sesshin Day 5 Haiku:
We sit in Zazen
Never knowing we are there
The snow buries us.

Gassho.