Journal Entry from a Winter Day
A man was executed in Minneapolis today. Ji Jang Bosal. There’s the hurt of seeing the event, the needless loss of life. But then there’s a secondary hurt - suffering - that I inflict on myself. “Who do I have to comfort?” “Will I be called to act?” “How will the President respond?” “What’s going to happen?” My infinite quiver of arrows.
What’s the difference between sheltering in the practice and spiritual bypassing? How can I be open to this - all of this - to see clearly what’s happening and my reaction to it? I do feel myself being anxious, of wanting to duck my head in the sand. I also feel myself wanting to open the portal, to immerse myself in the search for a question’s answer that doesn’t exist - “What’s next?”
What is my function, then? It would seem fine, on a day like today, to simply sit with it. It is negative five outside, snowing. I can’t do anything. Maybe my function is this - understanding how I feel about it all. Not pretending it doesn’t exist, but also not drowning torturing myself with the misery of it all.
And in the midst of pain - beauty, comfort. Fresh snow. Animals I love. Perhaps the best bowl of soup I’ve eaten in months. Art, education, friends.
Such an odd life we are all living on the wet rock.
During funeral and memorial services we chant Ji Jang Bosal's name to assist us with grieving and to help the deceased in their transition. This bodhisattva is greatly loved by Mahayana Buddhists for his commitment to stay behind until no more people suffer in hell.