The Zen Way (106) Moving
Surrendering to the 'flow' of moving
Leaving the snow-deep Makino in the morning, I suddenly thought about the concept of a 'boundary' when I reached the Imazu area, which is in the same Takashima city but completely free of snow. In a journey of less than 10 kilometers, the scenery shifted from a snowy landscape to one that had lost all traces of winter. While that boundary seemed clear, it was actually the result of countless overlapping elements, such as the temperature of the sky, the characteristics of the land, and the breath of the people. Perhaps in our daily lives, we often live by crossing these 'invisible boundaries'.
The house in Kyoto, to which I returned for the first time in a while after heading south on the Kosei Road, was unexpectedly chilly. Even though the temperature is lower in Kyoto, the 'feeling of cold' here is indeed different. Still, seeing a friend who came to help me laugh and say, 'It's okay, it's okay,' despite having an injured heel, I felt as if I saw a warm light amidst the cold.
In the exchange of repeating, 'Let's postpone the move,' and 'No, it's fine,' we might be sharing something like a small prayer. Consideration not to overdo it and the kindness of wanting to lend a hand coexist. Seeing such a figure, a sense of gratitude arises for a relationship where we can support each other.
Last night, after things settled down, we had a meal together for the first time in a while, and I fell into a deep sleep the moment I got into bed. Moving the body, exchanging words, and moving the heart. Sleep that comes at the end of such a day is a very grateful blessing.
Well, today I plan to rent a light truck and transport only the large luggage. I have decided to vacate this Kyoto house within this month and live in hotels during my business trips for a while. I realized that it is less of a burden than maintaining a room. Both ways of living and ways of dwelling change with time and circumstances. Accepting change is also surrendering oneself to the 'flow' as taught in Zen.
When my room in the Makino temple kitchen was completed and I looked around again yesterday morning, the thought, 'What a wonderful world,' welled up in me. The changing of the seasons, the connections with dear people, and the fact that I am kept alive there. Each one is grateful and precious. It is as if that famous song by Louis Armstrong is playing, and I can feel a sense of cherishing the whole world.
The changing seasons and forms of life remind us of our 'original freedom.' Without being bound by form, moving to the necessary place when necessary. I want to cultivate a heart that can softly accept the meetings and partings that arise there.
Today, a new step begins again with the light truck. Taking a deep breath, relaxing both body and mind, I will carry the necessary luggage. Even if it is cold or there is pain, the path forward while supporting each other might be unexpectedly bright. The cold days will likely continue, but I am walking step by step along the 'flow' that leads to the warm spring ahead.
Necessary and sufficient.
Thank you for watching.
Nensuian Shodo
My room is a six-mat space. It is necessary and sufficient.
I plan to put shoji screens on the windows.
While I am away from Makino, my eldest daughter is taking care of the cats.
These are the states of the two that arrived on LINE.
Curious about the outside...
