Ending Well

  There is a tendency in workplaces and schools to see Friday as an unfortunate hurdle between Thursday and the weekend. If the teachers feel this, then most assuredly they are teaching this to the students. Here at TAS, Friday is something else altogether.

   For years now I noticed how joyful and lingering the students would be at the end of the day. Often it seems the bus is impatient, not the student. Some of our students seemed to regret heading home... we always have a large fraction of kids for whom home is little comfort at all. Yet there is always a powerful, conditioned force that countervails our efforts towards keeping the community focused and easy. Out of these observations arose the firm structure of the last day of the week.

  It  has taken me a while to grow into giving dharma talks. I felt unqualified, and was concerned that my classroom persona would blur the important differences between my role as a lecturer/facilitator and that of holding the center throughout the school day. I often reflect upon my one dokusan with Daido Roshi.

I was on retreat at the Zen Mountain Monastery and struggling with my inconsistent practice, my shoulder problems which was pushing me away from Sword, and the endless pressures of work and family. I had resolved to talk to Daido, and I was nervous. It was distracting me from my sitting. Dokusan was called, I raced over. The bell rang. I walked in and bowed, and kneeled or sat, I don't recall which.

  I told him a run a school based on zen. He looked like an old dragon, and rumbled quietly, "Really?" I was flooded with doubt and insincerity.

  "And I don't know what to do..."

  "Keep your practice." 

  "That's all?"

  "Yes, keep your practice." 

   But what was my practice? Sword? Sitting meditation? Running the school? I had gone to the Monastery a number of times for retreats, and was drifting far from Shim Gum Do. Sword practice was still very painful, and I felt totally alone in it. I began to deepen my meditation practice. Later, I began practicing gentleness towards myself while training sword without a sword. Everything was becoming more centered, and it was time to train hard and clearly and completely commit to my original teacher. Without realizing it, I was living a koan: "What is my practice?' I was totally devoted to finding this out, every day. 

   Fridays reflect this experience: when you begin to drift, intensify your practice, be gentle, and be firm.

The last day of the week was riddled with ambivalence; by firming up the structure and making the student's obligations clear, and providing all the support to meet those obligations, Friday becomes the peak day, and a day of marking achievement and passage.

  It begins with a dharma talk. Midday brings lunch and work practice. It ends with a meditation and an expression of gratefulness. 

What is it with Americans? Such black and white thinking! Freedom means no expectations. The school day ends, and you are free. Unless you have to go to work. Then, later, you are free. Unless someone tells you what to do. Or you can't find somebody to do something with and find a way to get there. Thankfully, there is always the internet, a vastland of miniatures, where you can choose endlessly between things to do and things to want.
Obviously, this is a pretty limited notion of freedom. What if a young person could be trained in directing her focus to whatever she wants, for as long as she wants? What if she could become fully independent and fully part of a community? That is the paradox every young person must resolve. It cannot be provided by words, or by a medication, or by punishment. It must come from within, from long experience. Structure compasses freedom, much like a range of hills define a valley.
The school day at TAS is structured to that end. On the top of the right hand margin is a link to the daily and weekly training schedule. The intent is to gently guide the student in and out of the stress of becoming fully a person.

  Over the last two years I have struggled to bring together, in a practical and personal way, zen practice and the developmental education we seek to provide at TAS. Zen training is very demanding and true masters are few and far between. I have the great fortune to study under one, and to have experienced the teaching of another directly and profoundly.
  But one thing about any all consuming study is that one looks back and sees numerous times at which everything seemed clear and wide open, and that very moment now seems a modest, blinkered resting place, severely limited and self-satisfied.
  A strict daily practice has, for me, grounded my often diffuse efforts. I hope to use this blog to illustrate how powerful the school day can be when viewed as a daily practice for the young people who come to it  every day.

Dear Readers,

    There are a lot of blogs out there, and a lot of dead blogs. There are a log of blogs on mindfulness, and a lot of dead blogs on mindfulness. This has been a zombie blog since graduate school took over my extra time. But my degree is done and the school year is racing towards its conclusion.
    Thus, we begin again. News on the school year and on the way that this community develops its educational and mindfulness practices will be front and center.
   Please write me if you wish, or just offer comment. It is encouraging to receive feedback of any sort.