Stone Cold Sober

I woke up feeling stone cold sober
Wondering how I’d let myself stay
slumbering
In this place for so long
Waiting, treading water
Yet I never saw it as waiting before!
Not that it is a bad place
Like smelling the food, waiting to eat
And I didn’t go running for the door
I found myself gazing in my Lama’s face
With no self consciousness
And just saying
Good morning

July 2010

 

This poem was written on the same weekend, so I include it here:

Why so much teaching?

His son, 4 years old
Turned to me
During a quiet moment at the pool
With no one else listening
And he asked me
“Why so much teaching?”
With a vaguely perturbed, but earnest air
Not just born of a 4 year old’s boredom

I paused feeling for the words
A little… taken by his honesty
Some subtle trust in me
I answered:
“We are born, we forget who we really are.
The teachings help us remember.”
He seemed satisfied with that answer
I’m not sure I am
But that doesn’t matter

Later as we were leaving
He ran out to give me a gift
I looked in his eyes
Oh, those eyes I have held
Lifetimes ago
This Love welling up
Cracking through how many bardos?
I want the words to describe this
And I just can’t find them
That Joy of a wisdom love
So tender
That pain of losing him
Of death
Of not remembering that life
So many lives ago

I can’t remember
But my heart does looking in
His eyes
And his heart was remembering too
Becoming adult in his sternness
His eyes hiding a quivering
He commanded me to go
My tears started pouring
As I drove away

That moment 2 years ago
When he fell into the pool
And I threw my own son
Out of the way to get to him
I thought I was just protecting
His son
I didn’t realize then it was my own
Direct connection