Week 4 - and leaving the Lakes

The last week was a return to the less frenetic pace of sesshin. Sadly a couple of cancellations, but it left us with a small and intimate group, and we seemed to work well together.

Janet wasn't just Tenzo, but also somehow grandmother - her offer to do any shopping, leaving me to stay on the property, was very much appreciated, and it seemed to help with my focus for this last, short push.

Really struggled to come up with material for the talks this week - would have been happy to carry on sitting in silence... but the talks are part of the duty appointed to me, so I wasn't about to shirk them. Ended up giving talks on shikantaza through three lenses - the notion of hishiryo (non-thinking), mushotoku (no thought of gain/profit) and jijuyu zanmai (self-fulfilling samadhi). They're still a work in progress, I think... might have to come back to these in a few years and see how my appreciation for shikantaza has changed.

Dryer than some of the other weeks, but gray. Seems appropriate - ordinary weather, in an ordinary valley - ordinary mind.

Some of the locals have been popping by - this woodpecker has been a frequent visitor, along with the blue- and great-tits squabbling over the fat balls, the manic red squirrel sprinting along the wall-tops, the voles in the stone wall at the field's edge, a young grey heron spotted hunting for frogs through the kitchen window.

On the last evening, I finished interviews a bit early (was going to have to continue the next morning in any case), and returned to the zendo for a spot of zazen... after almost no time had passed (but must have been at least 20 minutes!), I saw Jo reaching for the striker to hit the bell for the Four Vows. I wanted to yell out, "Noooooooo....! Don't do it! Don't end it! I'm not finished!" Dong... katz... dong... "Sentient beings are numberless..." dong... "...awaken, awaken... Take heed, do not squander your life."

I get up, bow at the haishiki, and stumble through the last exit of the day - no idea if the jisha got the bells right this time (this was not Clive's forté!). I went straight to the shack, and stood outside the door, looking over the rapidly darkening valley. My last night.

Tears - I wasn't expecting that. And a deep sob; "I'll miss this place."

"Pull yourself together, Alasdair," I mutter. A cup of tea is fetched. But the melancholy doesn't leave that night.

After the last zazen on Thursday, a round-up instead of a dharma talk. Julie's word resonates with me: "precious". Yes. Each person's reflections, their thanks. Mine - manage to somehow express my gratitude to Keizan Sensei for enabling this to happen. Much easier when he isn't here! And to everyone who has supported me through the whole process - my wife and son, Sensei, everyone who's attended (especially three weeks with Jikido Jo!), all the previous shusos who've made the organisation of this easy... even my boss for giving me the time off. Everyone who sent their best wishes and thoughts who couldn't be there. The Northampton sangha whose presence has been such an important support for me over the past five years. Fuck it: all sentient beings. Truly.

A final service. My bows seem deeper. The incense offerings are heartfelt.

Lunch. Packing. Tidying up.

Leaving.