Cease practice based
On intellectual understanding,
Pursuing words and
Following after speech.
Learn the backward
Step that turns
Your light inward
To illuminate within.
Body and mind of themselves
Will drop away
And your original face will be manifest.
- Dogen (1200-1253)
I thought it might be fun on Saturday to take a camera along with my oldest son and make a photographic social story of his day, then put it in an album for him to look over. I hope to get the album put together later this week and take it to him early next week when we have an event to attend in Alexandria.
I like my new camera in part because I can catch great photo opportunities before the moment disappears. My oldest son next to Tony and Carmela Soprano in the checkout line at Target struck me as hilarious, so I took a picture of it. Whatcha gonna do?
T. played in the backyard swimming pool over the weekend, and was obsessed with shopping carts and French fries. I began to wonder whether he was recreating his Alexandria visit routine (hotel swimming pool, parents drawing pictures, WalMart, McDonald's) ad infinitum. I will be a little concerned about that kind of mental rigidity if it continues. However, he was having sinus problems all weekend, and he clearly didn't feel well yesterday, so he may have just been in a default mode as far as deciding what he wanted to do. It was kinda like, "well, I have to do something, so I'll just do this." It also could be that we're seeing a bit of a relaxation now that a rather intense school year has come to an end and T. is on a more relaxed routine involving horseback riding, swimming, computer play, and more free play time. We're going to come up with some fun, alternative activities for T's next home visit to test his adaptability a little.
I found myself feeling very sad about T. most of the day Saturday, and during the ride back to Alexandria yesterday--pretty damn depressed, actually. He is aware that other kids his age engage in activities that he can't understand or figure out how to do. He spent a few minutes on Saturday watching kids select football helmets and baseball bats--I didn't observe any emotion, just something akin to a recognition that "I can't do that." Also, he is ever so so close to being able to draw, but just can't make himself put pencil to paper. That frustrates the hell out of me. T. has always been like that. He watches and waits until he suddenly leaps into whatever it is he wants to do. A few problems I see are 1) he doesn't understand language sufficiently to follow complex instructions; 2) he doesn't understand that most activities are broken down into discrete acts, each of which must be learned to participate fully in the larger activity; and 3) he doesn't have the patience to deal with no. 2 when he does recognize that issue. I see all three of these problems with the gazillion educationally oriented toys he has requested and we have bought. I know that the autism center at St. Mary's is working with all three of those issues, and with the same kind of toys. I can only hope to see something click.
One thing I was happy to see is T.'s growing ability to discriminate among local stores when requesting where to go. T's shorthand for "take me to the store" is "cart!" I could never tell whether he wanted Target or WalMart until I got to one or the other and he refused to get out of the car. Several weeks ago, I began calling WalMart "blue cart" and Target "red cart." T. picked up on that pretty quickly. Saturday, I added "green cart" for A&P Sav-A-Center, which has a different type of shopping cart that fascinates T. He picked up on that immediately. So now we have "blue cart!" "red cart!" and "green cart!" Also, he has started discriminating between McDonald's and Burger King as sources of French fries, pretty much by name ("Donalds," "Burgers"). I've tried for years to get T. to make choices and discriminate among alternatives, so I guess this is a pretty big deal.
Last Sunday, I attended the local Japan Fest at the N.O. Museum of Art. I was there with my Zen group. We had a small meditation dojo set up in the modern art section, and I made a point of bowing to a Picasso during one of the sittings.
I was taken by surprise when I ran into the former bishop of the local LDS congregation, who just happened to be showing two of his children around the museum. I haven't darkened the door of the church in something like six years, and the former bishop in question is a friend and a cool guy who isn't the kind to get bent out of shape about nice Mormon boys being involved in other metaphysical traditions. He was genuinely curious about what goes on during a sitting. Nevertheless, I felt a little awkward for the first few minutes of the conversation. I suppose that awkwardness came from the Zen compartment of my mind coming directly into contact with the Mormon compartment of my mind.
That encounter led me to think about my personal history with Zen and Buddhism generally. I took up the practice of meditation sua sponte by ordering a course on CD, when things were pretty wacky in my home in late 2003. I picked up a copy of the Dalai Lama's "An Open Heart," and, for the first time, thought, "wow! This Four Noble Truths thing is my own private truth." It really hit home. I went to the local Zen temple to see how I was doing with my meditation posture, and I liked my experience there enough to hang around. Zazen meditation opens my mind and lets the negativity, pain, and sorrow, float away, if only for a few minutes at a time. I've had a few fleeting momens during which I felt no boundaries and somehow an interconnectness with the larger universe around me. Also, there is no preaching, doctrine, or dogma--and the anxiety, guilt and shame sometimes resulting from those (for me, anyway)--involved in the practice at the local temple--instead, it's all about the practice, which is all about posture and breathing. Whether one holds any particular theological beliefs is completely irrelevant to the endeavor. I like the radical simplicity of that approach to metaphysics. Anyway, it works for me.
Surface, smooth as glass
Calm, organized, rational
"He has depth," they say,
but I don't see it
Some pull on the anchor line
descending slowly
I plop in and sink down faster
seeking out the dark depth
Underneath, chaotic struggle
Shark eats fish eats fish
On the floor, a cloud of sand
ruins visibility
I move through the cloud
compass, computer to guide
Must be near the anchor line
How much air do I have?
