After a full and somewhat surprising day yesterday I listened to Mahler V before going to sleep. With soft sweet tears of who knows what I felt that same gentle longing to 'go home' in the spiritual sense that The lark ascending also gives rise to in me. I listened to The lark and again the feeling was there. No bitterness or depressive desperation, just a sense of the source, home yet not home. And then I thought of life and all that it affords... It had been a strange day... We come out of the void to be, to know... and it is good.
It rained heavily during the night and this morning the maintenance shed roof was leaking. We adjusted ourselves around the puddles and drips to share and tune-in before work. The bucket was always in the wrong place. I recalled a zen koan and told it;
'As the roof was leaking the master asked two monks to fetch something. One returned with a bucket the other a basket. The first was reprimanded the second praised.'
Klass who has been here for years said 'Yes, just accept it.'
I note my angel for today is acceptance. And today it seems almost easy. I seem to be in the middle of life again, which even if challenging feels so much better than when it or I seemed stuck.
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