Knocking again

After meditation I turn on my computer. I have to plan my visit to Dublin. There are e-mails about the retreat at Akasavana that I’m supporting next spring too. It looks like the others in the team haven’t received my last letters. How can I possibly do all this while I’m here?

We’re having a morning in the shrine room. It’s meant to be a gratitude bhavana, but I just sit with this feeling of stress in my skin. Gradually I realize that I’m heartbroken that the community is coming to an end. Tears flow. I love living and working in community, in communion. I remember Vajraghanta and Richard’s encouragement to discover the beauty in the sadness, and my heart softens and opens and somehow it doesn’t matter what happens in the external world anymore. I catch a glimpse of how even death could cease to appear like a monster.

The evening is flowing. I feel so well and mettaful. But the encounter with the old man last night is troubling my conscience. It stands out in relief to how I feel now and I can see that I was unkind. I wish I could somehow make amends. I find myself next door to the house of a man who said he’d sign a form and send it in the post. I know it hasn’t turned up at the office and I know by experience there’s practically no chance that it ever will so, on a whim, I hop over to his doorstep. The door flies open.

‘WILL YOU STOP COMING ROUND HERE! I SAID I’LL DO IT AND I’LL DO IT. JUST STOP IT’.

While he’s yelling I’m speaking at the same time, like a cartoon character. ‘Oh dear. I’ve upset you. I’m sorry. I was passing. I saw your light on. I just wanted to save you the trouble’. I’m talking to a closed door.