Taking My Seat (Again)

Well, I'm back on retreat - two weeks of a dathun, or month-long meditation retreat, back to room 229, room wiz flies, but only two. Room wiz dead outlet where table lamp ought to be, right down the hall from room wiz baby. (A first.)  I was irresponsible about following through with registration, so at first it looked like I would be wizzout dathun, but it worked out as things often do, thanks to a little help from Juan the Gardener and friends. (Thank you, especially, Ella.) Tune, who had just sat the first two weeks, loaned me her oryoki set, comprised of three beautiful ceramic bowls,a pair of red lacquer chopsticks, a spoon and setsu (little spatula). We met in front of the hoagie place in Lyndonville. She looked radiant.

"Did you have a good time?" I asked.

"Did you ever do part of a dathun before?" she smiled.

"Yes," I said, remembering the two weeks I had done last winter. "I guess asking if you had a good time is sort of ridiculous."

"Dathun is everything," she said. "Everything."

I had been considering one of the benefits of dathun to be an opportunity to slim down a bit. Meals are delicious, vegetarian in my case, with rice, fruit, soups and salads. Three times a day. Eaten with chopsticks while chanting, and turning the tiny pages of the paper chant booklet as big as my thumb, if one's memory tends to falter. It is a beautiful ceremony, but requires precision and concentration; attention to detail. Spacing out does not work. Wondering if I left my shampoo in the shower is not helpful. There's no pint of Ben & Jerry's waiting in the freezer.

"Someone told me you lose about three pounds a week during dathun," I had announced with some glee in the kitchen at home.

"There's no goal in dathun," someone at home had corrected. The idea is to meditate fully and open-heartedly. Save the lose weight idea for the fat farm."

"The fat farm?" I asked.

"In your case," the person at home continued, "You wouldn't get into a fat farm - you'd have to gain some weight to qualify."

Maybe, but the pants feel tight. And the butt isn't shrinking.

So, I'm here to lean into meditation, and oryoki and everything that is certain to arise. Wish me luck.