Sitting With Truth

photo by Dean Moriarty on Pixabay

I am subject to illness.

I am subject to old age.

I am subject to death.

Breathe.

Repeat.

I am subject to illness.

I am subject to old age.

I am subject to death.

Breathe.

My beloveds are subject to illness.

My beloveds are subject to old age.

My beloveds are subject to death.

Breathe.

For the last 2 days, I’ve been sitting quietly for 40 minutes to an hour repeating these lines over and over again. I’ve been reminding myself that I, everyone that I love, everyone that I know, and in fact all sentient beings, are going to get sick, get old, and die. There’s not a thing I can really do about it. Maybe it sounds morbid, but it’s actually helping. A lot. It’s loosening the constriction I feel in my chest that’s been caused by clinging to the fantastical delusion that I can actually avoid any of these things. It’s eased my suffering. The Buddha would be pleased.

I am not a Buddhist, not exactly anyway. I did take refuge in the 3 Gems — the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha in 2004, and somewhere my name is on a list of names in the lineage of Thich Nhat Hanh, but I don’t and haven’t…