With the death of Aitkin Roshi, a man who provided light in my particular firmament though I never met him, it is hard not to think:
Eventually, all those we revere will be dead and we will be left in the role we once assigned to them. No longer will there be some other boss, other teacher, other friend. Now it will be up to us ... the ones who once lacked understanding and clarity and who went to the 'sages' for help.
Now, like it or lump it, it's our turn. No more relying on others: This is it. Mother, father, teachers, friends, religions, philosophies ... poof! You're in charge.
The fact that all the mealy-mouthed Zen teachers of all times have urged us to assume the high seat, to see for ourselves, to be the arbiters of war and peace, to grow up ... still, secretly or not so secretly we leaned on them -- the wise ones, the good ones, the ones we may have praised. Our weaknesses were so many and their sagacities flashed across our skies. We were reassured. But now?
But now -- no shit -- it's our turn and no one else's. Quiver, quibble, be scared, express our egregious modesty ... none of that matters because the high seat is where we sit ... period.