Vipassana training: Day 7
I finally decided to ask Xifu the question that I SHOULD’VE ASKED from the first time we started meditating like professional monks and nuns.
“I don’t mind the stillness,” I said, switching my weight between numb buttcheeks. “Or the miseries that stillness brings. Or the blinding pain – NO, REALLY! – I actually DO believe in Buddha and his teachings…I’m only worried that something might break. Something like my heart, or legs...”
“You won’t,” said Xifu, “the human body can do amazing things. Sitting still for a full hour is one of the easiest challenges it had to endure.”
“What if something breaks?” I said, “The way my body shakes from pain and ache...”
“You’ll only become stronger. Both physically and mentally. You know this.”
“DUDE, ARE YOU FUCKING WITH ME? Are you ABSOLUTELY, POSITIVELY SURE that nothing will break? REALLY?!”
Xifu’s didn’t say anything for a while. Giving me time to gather courage to look at him. (The courage to hear from another what I already knew, and did not want to believe.)
“Isn’t that the whole point to meditation?” he finally said, and with kindness. “Knowing thyself, and accepting it for what it is, good or bad or broken? You’ll be fine. In fact, you already are...”
Then he winked. As if he’d heard the stuff I didn’t say. As if winking was all that it took for me to believe; and let things become.
And let things, everything and eventually, be fine.
Because, dude, breaking thresholds of pain & fear & faith is a totally and an awesomely fine thing to go through indeed.
(In one way or another, at least, with hemorrhoids and weight loss and deformed buttcheeks and all.)
