Days 50-62 (days of awe included)

Days 50-62  – Last night at dinner, a new friend invited me to temple today, because today is Yom Kippur. Those Days of Awe, the past 10 days from Rosh Hashanah to today, really flew by. I know I started out by considering who I may have hurt in the past year, who’s forgiveness I should ask for, but I think I actually abhor the idea of doing so to save my soul, that is, to convince God to inscribe me in the Book of Life. Today we’re supposed to hope that all of our repenting has sealed a good fate for us, that God’s verdict will ascribe happiness and health in the coming year.

I’d prefer to believe that I have no fate, or rather, that fate is inherently dynamic.

And isn’t it? Doesn’t fate come from faith, in believing you’re inherently worthy, in coming to that certainty  from the daily practice of forgiving those you feel you’ve wronged and or have wronged you? Isn’t empathy and unconditional love born of that constant practice of humility, which engenders compassion and immerses us in the now?

Before I go to bed at night I tell the universe that I am grateful, I tell the universe how much love I have for it and every being within it. The practice has the effect of diminishing the distance between what I perceive as outside of myself and what is inside. It is both a relief and an embrace. It hurts and it forgives, as all beautiful things do.

In LA, the practice of mindfulness was nearly at the center of my life. It’s a lot easier when you speak the same language and share the same customs as everyone around you. Since I’ve been in Berlin, there are myriad centers and it feels as if they’re dots on a map in constant motion. What is close becomes far. Life grows in every direction, which it always does, of course, but this is most apparent when our internal compass is thrown off. I mean this literally. In new locations we can’t place ourselves amid unfamiliar surroundings. It takes a while to find orientation (especially if you can’t read maps or understand directions no matter how clear they are).

The argument for uncertainty is a solid one, I think, the idea of becoming lost in a place and/or losing oneself despite the place is why people travel the world or adventure inward on a monastic path. I came for both, forgetting that it’s also not easy. Conversely, I don’t think it’s hard if I let myself be lost without guilt or desperate fumbling for pieces of familiarity. That too is part of the now. The struggle, the not letting myself give in, seems to be the shitty part. The lostness is neither good nor bad, it just is.

I hope for a happy, healthy new year. I believe that all beings are worthy of this. I forgive myself for times I forget.