support and community

Yesterday, as happens occasionally, I got one of those out-of-the-blue emails from a fellow inquiring about coming here to practice zazen or seated meditation.

He gave few details about himself, but did say he had a home practice and was looking for a little support and encouragement from a wider community. From that, I inferred that he was more likely a grown-up than a child: Grown-ups sometimes have enough experience to be less embarrassed by their own foibles and therefore less kiss-ass in the holy realms. Younger people tend to be full of piss and holy vinegar, bending a knee, however reluctantly, to every comma and semi-colon of the given format or ritual... or anyway, that's the way I once was.

What I heard Geof saying was, "Here's what I want and why I want it." No dancing around or using the camouflage that spiritual life can provide in such abundance. No false humility. No wise duck-and-covers. Plain as a dinner table: "Pass the spaghetti, please."

We batted emails back and forth and my 'grown up' assessment seemed to be confirmed: He had leg and back problems and sat in a chair for meditation ... and was that OK in the zendo? I wrote back that there was already a chair in a closet in the zendo ... something to address precisely the eventualities he mentioned.

Eventually, our emails petered out as emails are wont to do, and Geof will either show up or he won't. But his straightforwardness about encouragement and wider community got me thinking....

What a delicate matter in spiritual endeavor -- the desire for encouragement and wider community.

Runners and weight-lifters and those involved in any other pursuit benefit from the encouragement and camaraderie of others. I work harder than I might when in your company. I am supported by your implicit or explicit participation in what I believe and in what I am willing to put into action. I am not alone and my practice grows stronger or more determined or something.

Buddhists call sangha (roughly speaking, the congregation) one leg of a treasured tripod of "Buddha, Dharma and Sangha." I would not presume to explain that. But I am interested in the very human delight and thankfulness for support and community.

The very human ...

On the one hand, the support and encouragement of community. On the other hand, the sure-fire understanding that this is one endeavor in which everyone flies solo ... that the endeavor has no usefulness until I, personally and without asking anyone else's opinion, put out the requisite effort. No...more...collegial...lifestyle.

In Zen Buddhism, students practice zazen in a formal setting that may be filled with people ... all of them saying precisely nothing. We are, so to speak, alone together: My painful knees are precisely mine; my blissed-out breakthroughs have nothing to do with you and vice versa ... sort of. There is palpable support and community in that roomful of people who say nothing ... and yet anyone who speaks of support and community may rightfully be called a charlatan. There is a palpable something going on and yet if you try to name it, your foolishness becomes immediately apparent.

Meanwhile, over in Christian and similar communities, there is a social imperative that can overwhelm the understanding that spiritual endeavor is personal and intimate and individual. The support and community are front and center. "Sharing is caring" takes the helm. Altruism is given a free pass ... and there is a very human coziness that is courted: Let's agree not to examine too closely the fact that "God" remains unknown even though there is a great deal of chirping about the fact that "God" cannot be known with any direct and unassailable certainty. It's cozy and human and supportive. The realm of community is buttressed and swathed in social agreements.

It's not an either-or matter. Taking up residence in some austere hermit cave and offering warming, group-hug applause are not two extremes that are resolved by some imagined "middle way." And yet how difficult it may be not to get consumed by either a kick-ass, go-for-broke, individualized courage and determination or by a warming-yet-incomplete cookies-and-coffee-after-morning-service.

When it comes to community and support, how many become convinced that they are alone?

How many become convinced that they are not?

How many prate about being "alone together" or some similar blah-blah?

And then too...

How is it possible to be "alone?" How is it possible to be "together?"

It's delicate, in one sense, and worth keeping an eye on: Somehow, there is a need for peace.

In another sense, it's as simple and straightforward as Jell-O.

Jell-O is always at peace, right?