A long time friend in the Dharma wrote me recently. She wrote about the many surgeries on her legs and hips she has undergone, starting in 2004. She also wrote about the surgeries yet to come and about her present need for assistance to get about at all. My backpack days are defiantly history, she says. Perhaps you could come over to mainland Europe and visit us? Her message certainly put my little thoughts of wanting to put traveling behind me into perspective. I’d not thought of traveling being an offering to those who are not as mobile as I am able to be. Reminders to not become stuck in ones limiting thoughts and ways come in small packages, such as a friendly email like this one. Thank you.

Monks carry the Alms bowl, symbolic of practice generally. Of giving and receiving unconditionally all that passes through it, which includes difficult letters, emails that are a shout and phone calls which are wet with tears. Oh, and emails telling of the joy of training and ones that inspire and encourage too.

We talk about alms, both material and spiritual, having boundless merit, and that self and other benefit from making offerings. At first sight, encountering monks on an Alms Round for example, one could see this exchange as, the monks are fed by the householders and the monks offer spiritual blessings and Buddhist teachings. There is much more going on though, both on the round and in the life of pure practice. In the ultimate sense there is no one who gives or receives since they are one seamless movement. There is simply a field of merit open handedly benefiting beings. In the relative world, the one we live in, we can get caught up in our little thought and ways, of measurement and evaluation, of right and wrong.

Out on the Alms Round in Mt. Shasta a month ago I was struggling physically. We had been instructed to carry the bowl on the left side but somehow I was unconsciously trying to carry it on my right side. Half way round having walked already for one hour, I realized I was bending myself out of shape. It is simply not possible to carry something on both sides at the same time, so I paid attention and quickly my back stopped hurting. Now, which is the correct side? The left, the receptive side or the right, the giving side and does it actually matter? Today I ventured into our library to ask a question of our truly inspirational Librarian. (He is probably the only monk of our Order who reads this blog too.) While in the library I flicked through a periodical, as one does. And there was a photograph of a venerable Theravada monk carrying his bowl, on the right side!

My little mind is glad it discovered the traditional way to carry the Theravada Alms bowl. Of course the teaching of the walking of the Alms Round is that it is an offering, an extending of the field of merit of pure practice to all beings. At the end of the message, referring to this blog, my friend and spiritual benefactress said: Thank you for sharing the Little Big Things of your training and daily life! The teaching of the Alms bowl is one of those Little Big Things in terms of Buddhist teachings within our tradition. That’s the fathomless and finite coming together.

Yep, that’s the heart of it. Pure practice and daily-life are not separate practices.

BTW: The alms bowl that is given at monks ordination in our Soto Zen tradition is much smaller than the Theravada ones and are held directly in front when walking or standing.

My writing fingers seem to have become somewhat rusty. Simply getting out of the habit of writing every day means the words do not come so easily. And I know that, with repeated effort, the writing habit will come back again. This is just the way of things. So even if it feels like ‘pulling teeth’ to sit here and type I’ll continue because it seems ‘good’ to do. Hay ho.

In life effort/energy is applied and gradually a habit is (re)formed. Obviously for Preceptual reasons one has to be really mindful about how and where one devotes ones efforts. As one of the seniors often says, ‘It’s important to do the right thing, for the right reasons’. There is much to be said on this whole subject of habit energy. That will have to come on another day though.

I’ve been contemplating habits and how repartition strengthens their energy, which in turn can lead to a hard-wired habit, hard to break. For example, as a child and young adult, my very first thought on waking was, ‘What have a got to dread to-day’? Usually it would be some event at school, the school nurse visiting, an exam. And often in the calculation would be the dentist, how many days left before my next dentist appointment. Fear and dread of the dentist, because what he did hurt. He must have dreaded me coming and I visited frequently too.

This morning, as Nicola lowered me in the chair for a closer look, there was no fear and thankfully no, ‘Ooopeeeen Wiiiiide’! That dentists catch phrase destined to make me clench my jaw tighter. And thankfully no pulling of teeth needed either, just a couple of ‘restorations’. Everything is so much kinder and more gentle than I ever remember it being, back in the bad old days of fillings, drillings and that huge needle advancing over ones right shoulder.

What finally got me out of my thought habit on waking was the wake-up bell. Every morning in the monastery a novice monks rings a bell to wake everybody up. Then, for novices, there is just a short time to get up, dress, put away bedding, do basic bathroom business and then back in place for meditation. There was simply no time to be thinking dread thoughts.

There is much to be said for the wake-up bell, and the many bells that call one away from one activity and towards another. In the monastery it is a bell and for the majority of trainees, at home and work, there is the inner prompting to stop and move to the next thing. It is a kinder and more gentle movement than you’d think.

Ok, so Pugs are an acquired taste. Jazzy, who you have been looking at these past, far too many, days is a personality plus bundle of energy. I met her while in Edmonton, she wriggles she plays and she snorts. I enjoyed her very much. Multum in parvo, “a lot in a small space”, describes pugs perfectly.

The subject of dogs working in a therapeutic setting, nursing homes and the like, came up while we were chatting at the group on Sunday. Here is a group in Canada looking for four footed ones to volunteer and here is a dog, Bailey, who already does. (I’m really glad the story of this volunteering dog has been told for a wider audience.)

Thank you Edmonton people, it has been a great pleasure to know you. With Jazzy and Bailey having the last bark I’ll turn towards life here in Northern England, where I will probably remain for at least a year. That’s unless something unexpected crops up, which has me packing my bags again…

While in Edmonton last week I visited the group of people who formed the congregation of the priory, now the Meditation Group. We joined for the usual Sunday morning schedule of meditation, morning service and a talk. This time I talked about not ‘traveling to other dusty countries’ while at the same time recognizing the value and place of pilgrimage to one of our monasteries from time to time. And during the talk I made reference to a Buddhist fable about a fish and a turtle (yes, it was a turtle). I’ve since discovered that I quoted the fable inaccurately. So for those of you there last Sunday and for those of you who were not, here is the actual story. Scroll down the page to the heading Is Nibb?na Nothingness? The book where this fable appears, The Buddha and His Teachings by Venerable Narada Mahathera, is a Theravada Buddhism classic and well worth a place on a shelf of Buddhists books, for reference purposes.