Don't Go Back to Sleep By Rev. Patrick Teverbaugh
Persian poet Rumi wrote in the 13th century:
The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don't go back to sleep.
You must ask for what you really want.
Don't go back to sleep.
People are going back and forth across the doorsill where the two worlds touch.
The door is round and open.
Don't go back to sleep.
This poem comes up for me as I get all excited about exploring the world again after relative solitary living this last year due to Covid precautions. I've participated in the in-person events at the Zen Center these last two months. I'm scheduling coffee dates at cafes with friends, and I'm talking with family members about out-of-town visits with them.
But as I emerge from this “Zoom cocoon” I don't want to forget the eye-opening insights that were able to shine forth because of the quietude and even the fears I experienced in this last year. I clearly saw the vulnerability and the intimacy of all us humans as the virus and illness spread so rapidly around the globe. And this vulnerability and intimacy was expressed so vividly by our Dharma family as we all embraced Zoom and found other safe ways to stay connected. The pandemic also revealed the severe economic and racial divide throughout the world. The national election brought out the deep political rift in America. The Summer fires that burned in our county and destroyed our neighbors homes reminds me of the attention to Climate Change that cannot be ignored. The death of George Floyd was evidence that I have to look deeply at my racism and the systems that I am a part of in my life.
Zazen keeps me from falling back to sleep. It helps me remember wholeness and connection. It gives me confidence that my true self is intimacy and no-separation. And I keep coming back to zazen because it nourishes me, I'm drawn to it now. It s not something that I have to do, but the expression of life itself.
The Precepts keep me awake. Their very nature is connection and harmony. They arise in relationship with all things in the same way that my right hand arises with my left hand.
And my practice at the Zen Center reminds me again and again that I am in community. And not just with the ones that show up on School St., but with the Global Sangha—all beings sentient and insentient.