During the talk there was chanting of the Shakyamuni mantra and Jnanasalin read the opening verses of the Verses on the Faith Mind. I felt a strong upwelling of emotion, I wanted to cry, but I was in a public situation, so checked myself. I felt overwhelmed by feelings of deep fondness. I really missed both the mantra and the verses. They are like dear familiar friends. A love affair that was not yet over, that still meant a lot to me That sense for things 'missing' lingered. Of many things that are no longer here, such as my parents, I miss them too.
Two days later. I'm up far far too early, as is frequently my misfortune. In these hours I fill the sleeplessness by watching a TV programme or two. On this morning it was one of the Winter Walks in the Yorkshire Dales on I Player. Again I had the same welling up of emotion, again the sense of 'missing'. This time it was for needing to be alone and walking in that countryside. It reminded me of the Pennines, I yearned for the hills and valleys of the West Riding.
I followed this with an episode of The Repair Shop. Where a group of skilled crafts people restore broken family items. Again the emotional welling up. The programme can be over sentimental and manipulative, but it is about mending emotional connections, restoring or repairing what has been lost, forgotten or missing. This is not without significance to my present Zeitgeist. Whilst talking about this to Jnanasalin the emotional dam I'd built burst its restraints.
I've had a tendency in the past when I leave any situation to sever all emotional as well as physical connections. It appears to be how I've coped with disappointments or disillusionment. I move on, with the intention at least, of not going back, not returning. Whilst I've attempted to prevent the momentum of this gaining too much traction, I've found it impossible to completely resist, subvert or divert. One way or another withdrawal will make itself known.
For the last six months I've not sat to meditate or performed any sort of ritual, Buddhist or otherwise. I have consciously done this to create an open space, from where I might gain a clearer perspective on where I am, what I want to do next, what is it that remains important to me? I seem to need from time to time to step back, to remove myself from contexts. Only when you renounce something do you find out what it means to you.
I've had mixed responses to commitments and belonging to institutions. Though often appreciated and benefited from the supportive context for practice they provide. Yet at some point I find myself rebelling against those self same commitments and institutions, I see them as constraints. Boundaries and disciplines tell you where you are and what you are trying to achieve. But I can, over time, lose my connection with why on earth I am there, whether this is what I really desire, or just what the religious context itself implies I should want. I cease taking meaningful refuge in it, because faith has, unbeknownst to me, flown off on wings to who knows where. I need to follow wherever that faith goes.
Here I am endeavouring to 'own my own walking' Forgetting that I also need to own and respect where it is I have already walked. What there is from my past spiritual journey that I still love, find useful, and, hence, should be taking forward with me. My emotional connection to what was 'missing' was as good as an alarm bell, or someone waving a red flag in my face.
There is undoubtedly sentimental attachment present too. Missing the comfort of the familiar. This does not necessarily mean returning to any religious context I've once been part of. But it does require me to pick up and reexamine a few things that may have fallen out of the trolley on my way to the supermarket check out.
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