E. is skipping Easter and heading south to the little zendo in Chapel Hill. I am envious. An entire weekend of silence and meditation. I miss those trips to CH: the dinky little kitchen, the large stone Buddha on the altar, and the fish pond and wooden footbridge out front. I miss passing the day sitting perfectly still, breathing, watching the shadows move across the wall. I am sad to have lost touch with my practice these last few months. I take the world so seriously now, as if all of this really mattered. It is even important during these political times that seem to urgently call on me to react and do something—tap into my anger–to sit quietly, observing the world without attachment. How else can I effectively face this tumultuous world? Beyond breathing, and seeing clearly what is right in front of me, what more can I really do?
Instead of meditating, I will probably have lunch at my parent’s house with my slowly disintegrating family. Then, perhaps I will go to the Easter parade down Monument Avenue and take in all of the strolling pups, ornate bonnets, and the ever-fascinating human carnival.