Before departing for a recent stay at the Monastery as a visiting monk, I had read some reviews of a new book. Several reviewers commented that Western readers might take issue with the author’s anthropomorphism – the way that she talked about objects as if they had feelings, and espoused a hyper-awareness and even reverence for all objects.
Indeed, when living in a conditioned perspective, this being often dismisses objects. They are there for “me” to use and are barely noticed bit players in “my” drama, unless they are not working in the way “I” wants! In that case, they can be plugged into the conditioned program as handy sources of complaint and dissatisfaction, as in: “Of course, the toaster is not working! Just my luck! Nothing ever works when I need it to!” (And then conditioning has me go right on ignoring the thousands of objects tirelessly supporting this being all day long!)
At the Monastery, my heart opens at the way that every object and everything is tended to. I adore that word “tending” – it brings such a sense of love and care! We tend to the robot coupe in the kitchen, cleaning it with great care, mindful to unplug from the plug, not the cord, that we might assist it toward a long and happy life. We practice gratitude for the way the robot coupe can chop onions and grate cheese to become part of beautiful, lovingly prepared meals that will grace the table. The robot coupe is the Buddha.
Ah, the table – anyone who has spent any time at the Monastery can likely go right to their experience of the long dining table, covered in its blue cloth, rolled out to proudly display nourishing breakfasts, lunches and dinners, day after day. We adorn it with beautiful serving bowls and utensils at the start of each meal, enlist two people to roll it out so the journey from kitchen to dining hall will be a safe one, and wipe it down mindfully at the end of each meal. Of course the table is the Buddha!
This way of tending wears down the conditioning layers of ignoring, and reveals that reverence for all things is the authentic response. Through this process, it feels obvious that of course one would treat every object, every creature, every manifestation of Life as the Buddha!
--The well-worn but still sturdy laundry baskets that offer themselves for an endless parade of humans to carry laundry from the utility room out into the sunlight for days, months, and years on end…
--The stoves in the kitchen that present hearty soups, delightful dishes, daily oat groats, the blessed smell of fresh baked spelt bread, their pilots offering heat to dry the towels overnight…
--The zafus and zabutons that willingly plump back up, again and again, after each transformative sit and lively group discussion…
--The porches that offer serene spots to watch the ecstatic sunsets, opportunities to catch a hummingbird’s visit, and occasion to sit and listen to the music of the waterfall in the pond. So many humans tromp on them all day long, and yet they continuously offer outrageous beauty and support…
In conditioned mind, we can be talked out of noticing and caring for all Life. Lucky for us, practice teaches us that in every moment we can come back to thisherenow and practice tending to all things with reverence, with love. Everything, everything, everything is the Buddha, indeed!
Gassho,
Jen Y.