I am nothing

A conversation with a patient yesterday, about the fact that I’m on a one year contract at my current job and that there is no guarantee it will be renewed:

Her: “So, what do you plan to do after this?”

Me: “Well, I’m not sure, to be honest.”

Her: “Wow, you haven’t planned ahead? It must be nice to be able to do that, to have choices.”

My unspoken reply is that I’m not planning on purpose. Sure, I have three possible paths that I will take next year, depending on what happens with my contract, but I am not spending my time thinking about them at all.

Now is what matters.

From Lovingkindness by Sharon Salzberg.

In the Buddhist cosmology, one of the realms of being is that of “hungry ghosts.” These are beings with immense bodies but pinhole mouths, so that they are continually driven by unsatisfied desire. When someone once asked Vietnamese Buddhist teacher Thich Nhat Hanh what life is like in the realm of hungry ghosts, he answered with one word: “America.” The culture we live in, the one that has conditioned us, does not prize yielding, giving up, letting go, relinquishing.

All beings are the owners of their karma.

Their happiness and unhappiness depend upon their actions, not upon my wishes for them.

There is a certain assumption when one works in a fitness and health profession as I do. Generally speaking folks assume you are athletic or frequent a gym or other fitness studio.

The truth is, I wasn’t very ’sporty’ as a kid. Oh sure, I did my time in gym class, and even tried playing a few different sports. But none of that ever lasted very long. As I got older and had more responsibilities, I spent more time hunched over a book or a computer, or on the sofa watching TV. This eventually led me to become overweight. It wasn’t overnight, and there were other factors involved, but gain weight I did. It took me several years to take the weight off, with a strict diet. But even then, I wasn’t very active.

I took up running in 2004, in my second year of massage school. It was really just a method of warming up at the gym at first; it took me two years to decide to start running for the sake of running. But life intervened, and I stopped for a while as we prepared to move to Toronto.

I remained pretty sedentary until my new doctor expressed concern over my blood pressure. I’d had problems with it for years but no other doctor had ever done anything about it before. But my doctor wasn’t going to let me brush it off. “Look, I don’t want you to have a massive heart attack by the age of 50, and that’s exactly where you’re headed if you don’t make some changes NOW,” she said to me. And I listened. I started working out 4-5 times a week, and running was included in those workouts.

At first I did it because I had to, even if I did enjoy the gym. But two years later, I can honestly say I do it because I love it. I’ve done my first 5K competition and am considering training for a half marathon in the fall.

Running for me represents many things, including taking care of my health, but also time for me to think, to enjoy fresh air and sunshine, and to appreciate the body that I have. My blood pressure is still not perfect, but I’m working on it.

With any luck I’ll have many more years ahead of me to keep working on it.

Studying Zen, and especially my recent studying of Metta Bhavana has made me more giving and more compassionate.

I don’t say this to pat myself on the back, but to observe what is changing.

I received a letter from Doctors Without Borders today. I’d given them a donation back in January and they were updating donors with what work they’ve been doing for the situation in Haiti. At one time, I would have glanced at the information and then tossed it away, thinking I could not afford to give any more money. “I’ll give more later,” I’d usually say to myself, but later would never come. But today I read the information and thought about when I might be able to give another donation. When I get paid later this month, I will donate.

Then, someone asked a question about how much money one would have to win in order to share that money with others. Without hesitation, I answered very honestly that I would share any amount of money with others. I admitted that if I won a very small amount, say, $100 or less, I would probably just spend it on groceries or other daily necessities. But anything larger, I would absolutely share. There are many people in need in the world.

One thing I do need to work on, however, is my memory. There is a donation bin for a local food bank right at the doors of one of the grocery stores I frequent. Every time I enter the store I intend to buy an extra can or two of food to put into the bin. Every time I leave the store, I pass the bin and shake my head, realizing I forgot to purchase the extra items.

I am not perfect, no, but I’m learning.

Sharon Salzberg wrote in her book, Lovingkindness,

The great Indian teacher Nisargadatta Maharaj once said, “Wisdom tells me I am nothing. Love tells me I am everything. Between the two my life flows.” “I am nothing” does not mean that there is a bleak wasteland within. It does mean that with awareness we open to a clear, unimpeded space, without center or periphery — nothing separate. If we are nothing, there is nothing at all to serve as a barrier to our boundless expression of love. Being nothing in this way, we are also, inevitably, everything. “Everything” does not mean self-aggrandizement, but a decisive recognition of interconnection; we are not separate. Both the clear, open space of “nothing” and the interconnectedness of “everything” awaken us to our true nature.

That’s all well and good to read, but most of us are stuck somewhere in me, myself and I.

This is me unraveling that. Learning to let it go. Taking better care of my body, speech and mind so that I can actually do this.