Pain. So many thoughts on pain. So many stories about personal pain. Killing pain, pain that kills. Numbing pain, pain that numbs. Tolerating pain, accepting pain. Having the confidence to be in pain. Pain as a gift and a teacher. Pain that never goes away. So very many stories about pain while I've been in Edmonton. Not because Edmonton is any more pain filled than anywhere else, it just happens to be where I am right now. There's always going to be pain where people are, where there is sentience.

Last evening there was a phone call from a congregation member. We'd said good by two years ago not expecting to meet again. I'm on a four hour leave from the emergency department. I need to get my bank business sorted and call relatives to let them know where I am. I'm due back at 8.00, he said. Err, is this really REALLY serious? Nah should be sorted in a couple of days, or so. Hopefully. We met again briefly, perhaps for the last time. One never knows. Here's a man who does pain with great dignity. Others carry their pain with a smile. With tears. With silence.

Today I saw a cause of pain, a cause from my early life. Minds remember and bodies remember. Body and mind are not separate, thus it's body/mind remembering. Places carry memories and photographers record those places so they, and the pain they carry, are remembered. That's what I intended to do as an aspiring young photographer, in the early 1960. Thankfully there are photographers in this world who do that, are doing that. Right now. In Cambodia.

There is a difference though. Between being in pain and being in suffering.

Thanks to Michael for the link.

On the monastic schedule the time between the end of meditation and morning service and breakfast is Temple Clean-up. As a young monk, under the direction of the Head Novice, one moved briskly from the meditation hall to ones clean-up assignment, there to scrub and polish. There were no gaps between activities, for tea or a chat for example, and no choice of assignment either. Early in the morning cold and hungry I'd sometimes weep, tears splashing into the sink or toilet I was cleaning. More often than not I'd long for the sound of the breakfast bell to bring the comfort of food and the warmth of the dining hall.

As a Senior the external pressure is off. There's no Head Novice assigning tasks just my fellow seniors slipping the cleaning card behind the name tag on my door. (I just wish I could remember who it is I pass it on to!) Within the confines of the daily schedule one is responsible for planning ones own time. Even writing that makes me smile. Planning! Own time? Even finishing cleaning the bathroom has eluded me today.

9.15 am Cleaning toilet. 9.20 am Toilet half cleaned, remember to make a phone call and send emergency e-mail. 9.40 am Finish cleaning the toilet, hurry to Brunch. 4.15 pm Clean the bathroom sink, floor and ledges. Empty the rubbish bins. Need to do something else, can't remember what now. The shower will have to wait until I next have one...

If there are tears nowadays they are either an allergic reaction to the cleanser or ones of gratitude. To bend and squat, to rub, scrub and polish are gifts. However the greatest gifts are the gaps, or more accurately the lack of them. Early training, lay or monastic, is learning to move from one activity to another seamlessly, constantly choosing to say Yes when the bell rings. Switching from one thing to another to another to another becomes reflexive action over time. The one who does fades in and out of awareness, as needed. Personal wishes and desires are there but not with such a loud voice, they too have a place.

For me and for those of you who read this the bell rings constantly not just for meals, meditation and work periods. Phone calls-emails-meetings-driving duties-town trip-classes-tea appointments-chats in the lane-walks on the bottom road-chats over the hedge-evening meditation-evening tea-seeking lost belongings-having a nap.

Could this be living Zen?

E-mails have been flying back and forth these past weeks between here and Texas, that's mission control as far as the technical aspect of this move is concerned. As I write more tweaking is going on behind the scenes and more features are being added, even as I speak! Is it not a minor miracle that one site can be edited by more than one person at a time, and in different countries as well?

Today a reader from North America wrote in support of the new site, she was the first to try out the Contact tab to get in touch. She wrote saying she was quite content with the old one (Moving Mountains) and daily expressed gratitude for its existence, but this one is really a wing-ding, in the vernacular. Wonderful expression.

To be perfectly honest I feel a bit inhibited about continuing to write in the freewheeling kind of way I've grown accustomed to. Moving into Jade Mountains has been rather like leaving the comfort of the lay common room, with spotty wallpaper, after three years of doing 'lay tea'. That's a time on the schedule when a monk comes to join the lay guests for tea and biscuits. It's a chance to ask questions about practice and to generally relax and chat together with a monk. Bit like Moving Mountains talk. I regard teas as advanced training for the visitors because they come to realize monks are humans! For some I'm sure Moving Mountains has been a test too.

Now I'm caught in a corridor, still with a smile on my face, but anxiety is rising. Seems like I'm scheduled to do a talk in the library, and I'm not prepared. It'll take some time to find what I'm going to talk about and how. Come to think of it I can remember some pretty good freewheeling times talking in the library.

Another wing ding has just arrived. Over on the sidebar on the left is a link to Buddhism in the News. Perhaps in this more formal setting reading the news will become yet another aspect of sitting still, and offering merit.

Have you ever paused to notice?
if your mouth is closed
when you breath in
and when you breath out?

Have you ever considered?
if your mouth is OPEN
while you walk in silence
and have you wondered why?

Have you ever paid attention?
to the soft touch of top on bottom lip
and noticed the wonder of it
in your toes?

Have you ever paused to ponder?
if mouth open or closed
while breathing through your day
matters?

A friend pointed out the merits of nose breathing, when ever possible, as against mouth breathing.

Why wander the world panting? Surely life is not one long emergency.
Is it?

It's interesting how the word gets around. This morning I had an email from a Taiwanese Buddhist nun studying in England, with whom I've had periodic contact with over the years. She was kindly letting me know about the annual conference of the Network of Buddhist Organizations which will be held in June at Taplow Court, Taplow, Nr Maidenhead, Berkshire.

As they contemplated in this manner, the old monks began to treat each other with extraordinary respect on the off chance that one among them might be the Messiah. And on the off off chance that each monk himself might be the Messiah, they began to treat themselves with extraordinary respect.

And respect extends to all that we encounter making our land the land of the Buddhas and Ancestors. A bow to Angie for this story from the Jewish tradition.

Getting out is a welcomed break from work on Jade Mountains. At the moment I'm adding categories to all of my postings, as well as poking around the OBC web sites for teaching material link to. I found hidden treasure!

Found on the Lions Gate Buddhist Priory website an extract from a letter Rev. Master Jiyu-Kennett sent in 1979 in answer to one from a lay trainee.

I cannot explain how to keep the mind bright except to say that it is an internal looking up, a raising of one’s aspirations in the midst of it all. Faith is essential here.

And here's another treasure in the form of a Journal article published on the OBC web site.
The River is the Ocean; The how is as important as the why.

It is when we are spiritually on hands and knees that we learn the deepest meaning of bowing, of true gratitude and of asking for help. When the call of the Eternal is heard clearly, we must not stifle the uprising within in our heart, and "quickly, quietly and obediently say ‘yes’."

Yesterday was a long day. Freshwater Bay at 9.30 am on a cold morning was not inviting at all especially as I was about to follow the coast, on foot, for twelve miles. Like my friends I've been reporting on recently I enjoyed a lively back and forth in my mind about continuing on with the plan. I continued on, for better or for worse.

Sifting and sorting in the background while I'm here on the Isle of Wight for rest and renewal are questions and contemplations on a number of matters. At first they seemed to be unrelated, aspirations to do this, inner nudges to do that, the ordering and timing of a number of projects. I can't say I've sat down purposefully and thought about all of this. However today after a very slow start, which was preceded by inner dialogue and confusion, matters have fallen into a workable, almost sensible, pattern. The journey continues.

Next week a loyal reader of this blog is going to receive the Precepts at the Ten Precepts Retreat at Throssel. The retreat will start on Saturday. We have been in correspondence talking back and forth as she works through the inevitable

Shall I, or shall I not, cancel? Will I, or will I not, be able to go through with the commitment to formally become a Buddhist?

Her story is much the same as my friend and her steps towards surgery. I find them both inspiring in their willingness to lay themselves bare, to examine what's there and keep going on into the unknown. Congratulations to them both!

By way of offering encouragement I wrote the following:

You do realize that the first ceremony of the retreat is the journey to the monastery and you are well on the way to completing the most testing ceremony of all.

Her reply:

I hadn't thought of the journey to Throssel being the first "ceremony", but now you have said it, it makes perfect sense. It's funny how this practice gets to one, even though it is so subtle and you aren't aware of it happening at the time. I have already told you of some of the things that have changed for me like the drinking, smoking, watching less TV and being more discriminatory about what I do watch - but the wonderful thing is that they have all happened without any conscious effort. (Because she wants to follow the Precepts, and is.)

Today is the anniversary of a significant step I took some years ago, which involves rededicating ones life to keeping the Precepts. After the coffee and desert pictured here I walked for a few hours to reach home base. Close to where I'm staying is an old woodland. The guidebook describes it as one of the Island's most delectable spots. I reclined there for awhile against a tree and gazed up at the clear blue sky listening to the spring birds tweeting. Yes, time for celebrations.

This post is dedicated to yet another friend who is undergoing the ceremony of the journey to the monastery, literally and figuratively. Make that two friends.

A good friend has been readying herself to have hip replacement surgery. Here follows excerpts from our recent correspondence.

So I phoned today for my annual medical check-up, and as I put the receiver down, a little voice said, call your surgeon, to which I replied, Oh, I don't think so, this is enough for one day to which the little voice replied, call your surgeon, to which I replied, well, I don't have the number to which the little voice replied, look it up in the phone book. So I did and then reached for the phone, and hesitated, and you can guess what the little voice replied, so I reached again, and hesitated. And that little voice, in a rather exasperated tone, said how will you ever explain this to Mugo? so I (reluctantly) dialed and asked to speak to Dr. Watson's nurse. A cheery voice said You got her! Oh well, no backing out now.

The nurse answered all my questions and the surgery coordinator will call me next week to talk about possible dates. And as if that wasn't enough, after I hung up the phone I went into see my department head and we sat and talked about possible dates and what would work best for him. I was also able to talk to him about some of my anxieties at having the surgery done at all. When it was all over (the phone call and chat), I felt much better. It's actually a big relief (to have started the ball rolling), and I am immensely grateful to you for your encouragement. Please consider this my first installment to my helpful mentor. Is mentor the word I want? Yes WordWeb has given me a definition that describes what you are, for me.

Here is part of my response:

I think your story is not uncommon when it comes to taking a major move in life. And let's face it having major surgery is a major move in life. It just takes that first leap over the voices, familiar ones I know about too, for the next steps to roll out before one.

...and her response:

Thank you for your reply. It was very encouraging to hear you say that my story is probably not uncommon. I had never thought of that! (And after all those years of mothering and nursing!) I actually think writing what I wrote to you helped me along in my process. And by all means you are welcome to use whatever of it for your blog, I trust your sense of privacy. In addition your comments have given me the thought that perhaps I will try to write a little more about the voices we hear in our own minds.

I hope this posting speaks for itself.