Merrily merrily merrily merrilyLife is but a dream
A Tibetan observation has it that we live in worlds between worlds: there is waking, and dreaming, and in a poetic equivalence of these two, dying and after death, followed by waking again—the Tibetan word for a between is Bardo. Among other things, the idea is a typology of kinds of awareness.
Just to consider the first two of these categories, waking can be sleepier than dreaming. Meditation retreats make it visible that a kind of light is present during sleep and that the daylight hours can have a dreamlike flow. I do not have a built in system to notify me beforehand when I move from dreaming to waking so the states intermingle. Everyone knows the way the mind can without warning, fall into grief, anger or obsession, dullness. There is another kind of fall that it can do, into happiness. There is a deep silence and perfection that seems to be always waiting to appear and overwhelm the moment I am in.
Yesterday I was sailing in San Francisco Bay with my friend Michael in his boat, Melanie, beating through Raccoon Straits into summer winds. My elbows ached from grinding the winch. A strange pathway of whitecaps, like the track of a Greek God, led down the straits and out under the Golden Gate.
The wind eased back to maybe 19 knots, and we shook out most of the genoa (the big jib in front of the mast) and tacked to run up Richardson Bay into Sausalito. We were following Ta Mana, a French blue water cruiser. She was heeled over at a nice angle, tall sails against low, stormy, mildly tinted light.
Then as if in a magic trick the scenery shifted, I was looking down into water above the lee rail. A gust took us far over and the boat hung there, calmly in a new equilibrium. The moment spread out and rested too.
I held onto the side of the binnacle. There wasn’t any danger, but everything had changed. As if I were an anthropologist from another world the things around me were new and I was deeply and calmly appreciative of them. The boat moved to rise, then lay over again as the wind kept her pressed down. It was an elegant movement. I noted that Michael was at the wheel. I took a true interest in how steep the deck was and in the grey of the sun worn wood. I was completely happy.
Then Melanie was up and Michael said, “What’s all this water doing here?” We dropped the sails and drove into the slip. In the cabin, water bottles, stove burners, and bars of chocolate were on the floor. We picked them up.
5 comments:
Lovely post, thank you.
just what I needed to read today -- many thanks for your teaching/sailing/living!
Thank you for this charming piece!
Your post made me feel very calm and serene. At the same time, I would like to say that you experienced all the events like a witness which is what we are supposed to do as spiritual aspirants, just watching the world as it goes by!
Do drop in at www.yogawonders.com and www.gurumaa.com for some more information on meditation and the three states that we live in - state of awakeness, dream state and sleep.
This is a subject that interests me a lot John, what is the difference between sleeping and waking?
Another thing that interests me is playing with extreme states of mind, because it is through experiencing the extremes I develop a greater sense of understanding and clarity in my practice. My practice in retreat becomes magnified, clearly visible and guides me through the haze of my daily life. Due to circumstances beyond my control I now have to do my retreats in public spaces, which can be a bit embarrassing, but very rewarding and lots of fun.
Recently I did a Zen retreat with a group of Tibetan monks. They came and made a mandala at my home in my backyard. For ten days I didn’t sleep and dreamt the Dalai Lama had arrived incognito to deliver precious teachings on conquering Life and Death. Few people came to hear him speak. While the mandala was being created Gods and Devas surrounded the Pavilion offering music, food and other sensual delights. A golden glow and resonating hum emanated throughout the region. The moon grew in size over the ocean.
During the evenings sacred voices whispered subtle meanings of the Sutras. During the day His Holiness examined my level of realization and understanding ( it was easy because I’d been told the night before what to say so I felt like I was cheating) He would try to read my mind to see what meditation I was doing and I would try to be one step ahead of him and trick him. I remember asking the Dalai Lama what the difference was between enlightened mind and psychosis? He responded “there really is no difference at all” and I replied “the only difference is training”.
With the mandala close to completion there was a dress rehearsal for the Big Event. I was dressed to kill, thought I was going to a party, a celebration but I somehow got it wrong and realised mid-way through the rehearsal I was heading to my Death. In one moment I became very angry and refused to play anymore. I had been seduced and severely tricked but there was nothing I could do to reverse it. I had to submit.
The mandala was finished. I took centre stage while the crowd faded into insignificance, I had become nothing more than a puppet in the play. The sands were swept up and returned to the Guardians of the Oceans for safe keeping.
and I stood alone naked at the feet of the sea.
Was I awake or asleep? It’s hard to say.
Good luck, have fun.
Jen.
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