What inspired you to volunteer at Crestone Mountain Zen Center?
I’ve been curious about Buddhism for most of my adult life. As someone who has struggled with depression and isolation my entire life, the possibility of freeing myself from suffering seemed like an amazing (and impossible) idea. I had dabbled with meditation in the past, but had never dedicated myself to it enough to ever see any meaningful results.
I knew that if I wanted to change how I experienced my life I needed to change how I lived my life. But I was committed to kids, job, relationships so I put my curiosity on hold for twenty years.
Then my life circumstances changed. My kids were grown and out of the house, my relationship had ended, and I was ready to move on from my job. After fourteen years in Asheville, NC where I raided my children and built a career as Shadow Work coach and workshop leader, I decided to move back home to Colorado. This major life change gave me some space to scratch that lifelong itch to explore what living in a monastery had to offer me. So I Googled Buddhism + Colorado. CMZC had the website that appealed to me the most so I reached out and had a conversation with Laurie about coming out for a visit.
I joined a volunteer work week in April and then came back as a guest season volunteer in June. I’ve extended my one month stay twice and plan on staying until mid-September. I hope to return for the 90-day practice session this winter.
What has it been like living here?
Living here has been wonderful. Then hard. Then wonderful. Then hard again. CMZC had been both a sanctuary and a crucible for me. It has been such a gift to slow down, and relax into the structure of the monastic life. It’s beautiful here. It’s simple here. We do the same things everyday. I don’t have a lot of responsibilities and I don’t need to make a lot of decisions. It feels like I have set down the weight of the world and all I have to do now is to keep remembering to not pick it up again.
My life here has been less about long range plans and more about simple details.
I love pausing to bow every time I pass the statue of Avalokiteshvara. It’s an opportunity to choose respect over efficiency over and over again. I love the feeling I get when I enter the zendo. So much care and attention goes into creating and maintaining its elegant beauty. I like working with the other residents to create delicious and nutritious feed for ourselves. I enjoy the quiet companionship of other people who have made the time to prioritize living and practicing together. It’s been wonderful to step out of the endless business of modern consumer culture. Nobody here’s to make money or buy things. Here I don’t have to constantly sell or prove myself. I don’t need to hussle for worth. All I need to do is show up on time and participate.
Over my weeks here I have felt this lifelong, low-grade background tension that I have been holding in my body slowly dissipate. It’s like I’ve been living my entire life in fear – fear of not being enough, of not doing enough. I’m unwinding, one unhurried step, one purposeful breath at a time.
And… As I relax, everything I’ve been holding in inside – all the old feelings, all the old pain – starts bubbling to the surface.
Like most people in our culture, I have spent my life distracting myself from all the feelings that were too big, too painful to feel. But when I’m sitting zazen two hours a day, there is nowhere to hide from those feelings as they come bubbling up. Until that bell rings, I have to sit with those feelings, be with them without trying to escape or change them. That has been really challenging.
I have spent a lot of time watching my own mind, observing my habit of suffering as if my nose were two inches from the TV screen. I have spent hours with my loneliness, my resentments, my avoidance, my unmet needs, my shame, and my judgements. Sometimes I can watch them go by like clouds in the sky. Sometimes my heart fills with compassion for the scared and lonely little boy who still lives inside me. Sometimes I can forgive myself for all the times I could not/would not give others the love that they needed. Sometimes I can just notice the itchy nose or aching back and not need to do anything about it. Sometimes I can’t. Sometimes I just suffer and wait for the bell to ring.
But each time things have gotten hard. Each time I just abide in the difficulty. Something amazing eventually happens. The clouds lift. The sun comes out again. Joy returns, deeper, and more genuine than it was before.
How has the experience changed you?
Slowly, I am replacing my lifelong habit of suffering with a habit of accepting what is, knowing it will not last. Slowly, I am learning how to consistently decline to participate in my own misery. I’m learning to notice the quiet beauty in every moment, to savor the precious gift of being alive.
I have gotten into a habit of pausing before every meal. I bring myself to a complete stop and say, “Thank you. This is all I need.” I remind myself that I have a safe and beautiful place to live. I have good food to eat. I have good people to share my time with. My life here has purpose and value. And that is all I will ever really need.