I don’t know what it’s like to get old because I’ve never taken this ride before, but I turned 50 last month and someone told me I was now in the freshman class of old age. Which was funny to me as I have lived for the past good many years as though I’m still 25.
You could make lots of arguments about whether I have or have not ever fully matured. What I’ve observed from most of the chuckleheads I consort with is that becoming an adult happens gradually, over the dawning realization that no one is coming to save you from the conditions of your life. Unless you are among the extraordinarily privileged, which I’ve come to believe is a disadvantage, you gotta find a way to make it happen. That’s intense, especially given that some of our god-given talents are not in accord with the demands of the market here at the apex of capitalism. But it’s also about your responsibilities, the way you want to live, the company you want to keep.
I told Dave recently that we live in a pure land. We are poor, but people treat our house/temple with respect, and they respect each other and us as part of it. No one walks into a Zen Center without having had some form of reckoning about what the fuck this all actually is. There’s a maturation process on display there too: an understanding that while there’s enough to do to keep this life going without probing the nature of being, some part of you will never fully come online until you make time for it.
And so in this season of life I am planted among others who have, by some grace, come into awareness that reality is bigger than our brains can hold. Arrogant people don’t last long in the zendo. It’s a humbling practice, coming face to face with the bare facts of your existence and being willing to see through your delusions over and over again.
I’ve recently started saying plainly in dharma talks that before I committed to Zen practice, I did not know how I would get through this life without offing myself. It’s a gruesome thing to admit, but when I am in a bad place the experience is so acute that all perspective goes out the window. Endurance was something I’d been able to foster, one gripped knuckle at a time, but Zen has here and there given me a glimpse of transcendence, and that’s why I stick around.
It was also a fucking nightmare summer of heat and humidity and ants invading Los Angeles and my old ass house, my old ass room. Practice has made me a lot more comfortable with discomfort, but there are some attachments I don’t think I’ll ever shed.
I’m quite attached to feeling useful, for one, and I don’t even know if that’s a bad thing. I just finished leading a group through The Artist’s Way, which came with a side trip into a standup comedy workshop, which ended with me doing a set on stage at a comedy club in Burbank.
I don’t know if I have a future as a comic (watch this space??), but I did enjoy the experience of stepping out into blinding lights and the blurry stares of strangers who really want you to make them laugh. There’s something sweet about it.
You can do so many things in this life when you’re not stopped cold by your frontal cortex! Standup, sure, but also loving your neighbor in recognition that she is also you, in a quite literal sense. Sometimes you get a glimpse.
A story I sometimes tell myself is that because I didn’t have children, I missed an important part of the maturation process: learning that so much of who we are is hard wired, that all a parent can do is love and hold the space and pray. But another story I tell myself is that I learned this anyway, without the kids. I know that everything I actually control is right here, right now.
I never intended to live in a Zen Center or teach Zen. It’s where the path, and the conditions of my life, and my heart led me. There’s sacrifice in it and there’s indulgence in it. I did not thrive living alone. Too much time with a brain that seemed intent on killing me, which I’m glad I didn’t pass on to a child, to be honest. Then again, it came down to me, so every one of my ancestors survived long enough to hand it along. (Some of their siblings and uncles and aunts and cousins may not have, so there’s that.)
I couldn’t be more grateful to be where I am now. I also know it could have gone so many other ways, and I’d like to think it would be fine then, too.
What I’m trying to tell you is that life is so brutal and beautiful and surprising and unrelenting and ALIVE that I’m glad I’ve found a way to keep going. I think saying shit like 50 is the new 30 is dumb, but I will say that never have I felt more equipped to meet reality head on, and never more willing to be astonished by it. I say this as a person who remains full of delusions. But sometimes I see through them, and that is a genuine thrill.
So! Happy birthday to me.
Seven Talks, Zero Answers
Most of my creative energy is going into dharma talks lately, so if you like my brand of wrestling with reality, here are the latest ones that made the ACZC podcast. I’m told they’re good even if you don’t care about dharma, and I’m told I should share them here.
Winning and Winners (Oct 2)
Who are we actually competing with, and what are we trying to win? I wrestle with the need to be right and ask whether there’s a compassionate way to be a know-it-all. (Still working on that last one.)
Controlling the Message (Sep 11)
There’s a lot of rage, grief, and repression bubbling under our coping mechanisms. What do we take from the world when we keep our inconvenient feelings to ourselves, and is there a safe way to let some of it out?
Some Kind of Freak (Aug 7)
I dissect Bodhidharma’s founding text to see how the real thing compares to the perfect Zen teacher who lives in my head and bullies me for not measuring up. The real one is a lot less judgmental.
A Cool Girl with Cute Shoes (Jul 17)
I question a dubiously lucrative job while the perfect Zen teacher in my head weighs in. Paying the bills might be part of being my best self, and I’ve already made choices I haven’t admitted to.
Animal Nature (Jun 19)
How do you learn to trust yourself after the messes you’ve made? I look at the gap between the mind that aspires to our best intentions and the one that actually tries to live them.
Two Way Relationship (May 8)
A talk about spiritual crisis, including one of my own, and about listening in zazen. What is that tangled knot in the chest, and can a crisis leave us better off?
Charmed (Apr 3)
Is a story a powerful tool or a way of not seeing the world clearly? I ask whether we should see through our stories or use them, and how either differs from taking responsibility for our lives.
All of these live on the ACZC podcast page and wherever you get your podcasts. If one of them lands for you, reply and tell me which.
I’d like to find my way back to publishing here regularly but I don’t quite know what that looks like. So if you’re game, reply to this or leave a comment about what you’re into lately as far as episodic online writing goes.
Thanks for reading, as ever.
😘
Sara
p.s. If this resonated, tap the heart or share it with someone who’d dig it.