I should say, I am the worst person to
write on this topic. I've been sick with bronchitis and my practice
has consisted of muttering some mani prayers and a lot of begging
nameless, faceless beings (Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, Dakinis, anyone, anyone?)
to please heal me. I try to remember others who are suffering and
use my own suffering to eliminate theirs, tonglen-style, but so
haphazardly that I don't think it qualifies as practice. It is hard
to practice when one is ill, and yet, I never feel one hundred
percent great, and I am wary of putting practice off to the day when
I feel perfectly well because I know that day will never come.
On the other hand, sometimes I think I
work harder at mindfulness when I am in terrible pain. I use it as a
tool to get me through each moment. It's easy to forget about
suffering and death and impermanence when things are going pretty well, and one is
distracted by daily life, all the plans and schemes and goals. But
illness, pain, demands your attention, demands that you be here now, will
not allow you to ignore what's happening right now. I suppose it is
a gift in that way, even though it feels more like a nightmare. And always,
there is an awareness at the edges of my mind that there are others
suffering much worse than I am, with illnesses that have no end in
sight, under far less pleasant circumstances than a warm bed
surrounded by beloved pets. So there is the spark, the glimmer
of compassion, when the sickness-induced narcissism eases up briefly, too briefly.
What I hope will grow out of this
experience is: compassion for all suffering beings, commitment to
practice, and diligent guarding of my health and precious human life
so that I can serve all beings.
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