Dead Deer Zen

Zen Koan:

Before one studies Zen, mountains are mountains and waters are waters; after a first glimpse into the truth of Zen, mountains are no longer mountains and waters are no longer waters; after enlightenment, mountains are once again mountains and waters are once again waters.

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Driving to work on Friday, I decided to take a different way. Roadwork created a thruway to my job that would cut a few minutes off of my short commute. With the river on my left and a steep incline on my right, I cruised down the smooth city street, merging into a flow of traffic from downtown. A yearling deer and fawn sauntered across the street 50 feet ahead of traffic. As we approached a bend in the river, another doe bolted into the driver’s side headlight of the white Subaru Forester ahead of me. She faltered, and then fell back into the lane for oncoming traffic. All of the cars on the road came to a quick stop. The doe struggled to stand, and she did. Then, she tried to run, taking 3-4 limping steps. She fell again, got up again, and fell one final time. Traffic stood by. Every car contained one person encased in their personal pod of horror. The doe was lying in the road, lifting her head in pain or will to live or some other drive I have yet to understand in the privileged, injury-free lifetime I have lived. One woman got out of her car and cautiously approached the doe. Bending at the waist, she reached her hand towards her, hesitated, and then reached again to stroke her side. The doe lay motionless, either dead or dying. I willed myself to get out of the car, to be with the doe in her last moments of struggle. I wanted to send her metta and peace, but my discomfort and terror of witnessing her death kept me glued to my car seat. I called 911 to reach our small town police department so someone could come and expedite her death, release her from the pain she must be in. My car was in the middle of the road. The black truck behind me pulled forward and past the deer. A man got out, one I have seen at work many times. He’s gruff and a really bad tipper, so that is how I remember him. He approached the deer and woman, who was still stroking the deer as it lay dying. He told her to grab the hind legs and he grabbed the front. They pulled the doe to the side of the road. I heard police sirens. I had to move my car from the middle of the road. I am unsure if the deer was dead already or if it was alive when dragged to the side of the road along with pieces of the woman’s car that hit her. I wanted her to have dignity, but I did nothing to facilitate it. I cried in my car before going in to work.

When I think of that deer, I don’t wonder why she died in front of me. But in past years of seeking, I would have taken it personally that this deer ran out in the road in front of me and died. I would have wondered what it meant in the bigger picture of MY life and why it happened in front of ME, possibly even TO me.

This is the meaning of this koan. Because he’s convenient, I’ll use the bad tipper as an illustration of the first part of the koan. Before starting a spiritual journey with an end goal of enlightenment or entry to heaven or maybe a simple tight yoga ass, the seeker has yet to seek. The deer in the road is the deer in the road. In this case, the deer is blocking traffic, and, for the purpose of utility, needs to be removed. The bad tipper saw the dying deer in the road as a dying deer in the road and moved it. The deer was unconnected to him and his purpose, so he moved it out of his way and continued, unaffected. For those in the midst of seeking, they wait for the streets to turn into bricks of gold, their meditative efforts to manifest stacks of cash onto their spendthrift existence, or the joy of being able to bounce a quarter off of their tight yoga asses. In earnest, they grasp to the external to find their internal way. Their sense of intuition relies on the ability to decode the roles of the deer, the woman in the road, the bad tipper and internalize them. The seeker believes by knowing the reason, they will find the way. While understanding logic in making material and tactical decisions is important, it doesn’t work with the Mystery.

I’m far from enlightened and well into my study of Zen, but I do my best to let the mountains be mountains and the waters be waters and recognize that death is inevitable. Why the death happened in front of me does not matter, though through my seeking I understand the deer is connected to the Great Mystery in the same way as me. I wish I could have been a better shepherd and friend to that little sister during her final moments. Like the seeker, I walk away learning something about myself through an external experience, but I learn by listening to the internal dissonance created by it rather than internalizing the events in front of me or externalizing the dissonance. Make sense?

For all of you seeking, use the tools. Take what speaks to you, what hits you right between the eyes or pokes your heart, and work it. Journal it. Sit with it. Practice it, until you understand how it applies to your life with all of its successes and failures, with all of its moments of being the hammer and the nail. Use balance. Spend 30/60/90 minutes a day diligently focused on it, and then spend the rest of the time letting the mountains be mountains and waters be waters and belly laughs be abundant. This is how you will know yourself. This is how you will learn your intuition. This is how you will be a great student of mystery and lover of life. This is how you will survive.

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Larry James

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My Dad passed away on May 28th. Grief has become my new bed fellow. He grips me at night, repeating scenes of horrifying sadness, whispering memories of words said and unsaid during the final moments of my father’s life. He urges me to live each day to the fullest. He tells me there is no time for sleep. There is only time to reach into this crazy human existence and grab onto anything and everything that will bring me joy, or, at minimum, numb the intensity of his presence. He forces me to live in a way where I push myself to feel more alive than I did before he came along. Life must be something other than wandering around wearing this heavy cloak of sadness. I must go fully into the moment, this VERY moment, and truly live it.

I know now, three months later, that grief will be with me for a long time. I cannot attach deadlines or make a goal sheet of how I will slowly ween myself from him. There are no rules to anything now. Everything that made sense before no longer does.

I am humbled in a way I never imagined, and for that, I am grateful.

Some of you that are reading this did not know my father. Many of you heard me read this eulogy at his funeral. I guess I just want to throw it out there, to see the words here on this site I have ignored for most of this year. Sending peace, love and comfort into your heart. Let your light shine, beautiful humans. Life is short and long, mysterious and bold…..LIVE IT.

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Eulogy for Larry James Yoh

My dad has never been perfect, but he has been perfect for me. If there is one word that describes my dad in all aspects of his life it is devotion. He lived his life as a devoted husband, father and employee. When I think about devotion, I see it as the epitome of love. My dad wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows, and honestly, most men aren’t, but he was devoted to his family and his work. Other than going out on a wrecker call, he was there every night to say, “Good night. Love you. See you in the morning.” each time I began my trudge up the stairs to bed when I was growing up. And I mean EVERY NIGHT, without fail. Even on those nights when I was upset with him and stomped up the stairs as loudly as I could.

He was both unbelievably strong and unbelievably humble. A man who believed in honesty above ego. The value of hard work never had to be explained to him.

Those of you who know him, know that he was on the shy side. He tended to be pretty quiet, but I think anyone with three girls and a wife at home would probably act the same.

He wasn’t one to toot his own horn, but he would raise his hand for anyone in need. Many of you in this room benefited from his expertise with car repair, construction and really just about anything needing muscle and WD40. He probably didn’t say much when he was with you. He tended to be focused on getting the job at hand done, but the finished, perfect fruit of his labor was his greatest expression of his love and caring for each of you. When I was growing up, if my dad wasn’t moving, he was sleeping. And he didn’t sleep much.

He wasn’t always hugs and kisses, but he was always, ALWAYS there. Though he challenged me to grow in the direction he wanted me to, he loved me during those times that I didn’t.

He and my mom created a family that gave me my best friends. I don’t know how one could ever say an appropriate thank you for that, but thank you mom and dad for that gift. Having Troy, Denise and Josie in my life has blessed me many times over.

Ted Hughes said:

“The only calibration that counts is how much heart people invest, how much they ignore their fears of being hurt or caught out or humiliated. And the only thing people regret is that they didn’t live boldly enough, that they didn’t invest enough heart, didn’t love enough. Nothing else really counts at all.”

Well, you did it, Dad. You invested your heart and you lived a bold life. I hope you can feel the love here that has been created from your devotion and caring.

My dad would often say “Keep the Faith.” And I say that to all of you now. You never know what is coming down the pike, what challenges you might face, but like Larry did: excercise humility, embrace devotion and keep the faith.

And, if all else fails, spray it down with WD40.

Good night, Dad. I love you. I’ll see you on the other side. Until then, I’ll be sure to check the oil.

So Long, and Thanks for all the Bananas: Recovering Yogi

Created by Vanessa Fiola.  Recovering Yogi
Created by Vanessa Fiola
Recovering Yogi

Well folks, I left the Vipassana meditation retreat early.  In the words of the great Kenny Rogers:

You gotta know when to hold ’em, know when to fold ’em, know when to walk away…..

I wrote a post for Recovering Yogi about my experience.  Check it out:

http://recoveringyogi.com/so-long-and-thanks-for-all-the-bananas/

Grandpa’s Thoughts on the Great Depression

My sister, Denise, recently dusted off an old cassette tape which contains an interview with my grandpa regarding the Great Depression.  My Grandpa passed away in 1997 and my Grandma followed in 2008.  He was an intelligent, friendly man married to a glamorous, strong woman.  I love hearing his special laugh and unique perspective.  Here is the audio file:

Interview with Grandpa

Finding Community in New Places: Hanuman Yoga and Music Festival, Boulder, CO

This woman is no island.  As I travel, I crave social interaction, but try to do so consciously-not just searching for a friend to share a beer, but to find those folks who truly enrich my life.

I write about this subject as a guest blogger for Hanuman Yoga and Music Festival:

http://hanumanfestival.com/live/finding-community-in-new-places

New Year’s Resolutions and Sides of Ranch: Back to Work in Estes Park, CO

I have been back at work for two weeks. Already, I find the ugly demons of Stress and Impatience rearing their gnarled heads in my day to day life. A month ago, I made many phone calls to set up my schedule the best I could before I came back.  Thinking I could be in control from the get go….believing I left Stress and Impatience behind.

I arrived in Colorado, my home base, 16 days ago. Just like last season, I began work as a server at two restaurants, started teaching a weekly yoga class and put myself on the call list to guide hiking and snow shoe trips in Rocky Mountain National Park. In addition to all of this, I write copy (blog posts, how to articles and catalog copy) a few hours a week.

“Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” -Albert Einstein

Just before I left for Hawaii, I attended a yoga class on New Year’s Day that was sacred for me. I used the movement of my body as a prayer to seal my intention of living my life more in balance in 2012. On January 1, 2012, I thanked Stress and Impatience for their service and asked them to leave. Last time I saw them, they were flailing and alone on my yoga mat.  Now they are sending me flowers and cards, asking me to take them back.

Stress and Impatience did serve me in 2011 just as I asked them to. I built the largest savings account I have ever had.  This was good.  Unfortunately, I also developed habits that were unhealthy for my body.  My compassion for myself and others dwindled to disgusting lows.

The Dalai Lama, when asked what surprised him most about humanity said: “Man. Because he sacrifices his health in order to make money. Then he sacrifices money to recuperate his health. And then he is so anxious about the future that he does not enjoy the present; the result being that he does not live in the present or the future; he lives as if he is never going to die, and then dies having never really lived.”

To some of you who are familiar with my life and the blog, the above quote may be confusing.

“Doesn’t Kaci just la-ti-da off to anywhere she pleases?” You might ask.

Why, yes, sometimes I do. And yes, I la-ti-da more than most, but what most people do does not serve as a model way for me to live my life.  I am interested in my personal journey-defining and practicing the way I believe is the best way for me. I am not here to do as most or get in line. I am here to live my highest life. How else can I celebrate this beautiful existence? How else can I give gratitude, but in living in joy?

I am not suggesting that I should quit working. I mostly enjoy the unique, vivid people I work with and for. At our best, we create a family-like bond, supporting one another through our strengths and weaknesses. We give each other room to learn lessons and look past blunders. Personally, work allows me to examine my own strengths and weaknesses.  While working, I can examine the the width of the chasm between my ego and my highest self.  I can see how they can work together and also how they tear each other apart.

During my trips in the past few years, I have learned to value having a purpose. What I am speaking to is Right Purpose or Right Work. Can I find Right Purpose by merely having an attitude adjustment in my current situation? Should I focus on creating a schedule that allows me to do more of the work I love?

I’m not sure of the answer, but I am sure that I can no longer work only as an act of worship to this God called Money. As soon as I am short with J or find myself wide awake at 4 a.m., a black snake of fear slithers up from my belly into my throat. I know where I have been. I know that last year I carelessly placed myself at the altar of Security and said, “Take me. I’m yours.”

Sometimes, I think I write this blog post mostly as a pep talk to myself. As if I need to remind myself that I have the right to control my life.  Sometimes, I think I write this post in hopes that others out there can relate to my struggle on some level and maybe offer up some wisdom or a simple “me too.”

But really, why should the notion that I control my own life with balance and peace rather than dollars and cents be so preposterous?