Burning Incense Completely

One of the responsibilities of the head monk position at MAPLE is cleaning the upper zendo after evening chanting and preparing the space for morning interviews. On one particular evening during my tenure in this position and while cleaning the upper zendo, I was cleaning the upper incense plate of incense ash and noticed the incense stick only appeared to be a tiny piece of wood left. It was dark, the room being lit by dim, warm colored hanging light globes. These globes create an interview space that feels spacious and dreamlike at times, but are poor for noticing details. In the low visibility, I carelessly grabbed the tiny stick, threw it into the garbage, and then placed fresh incense on the plate.

In that moment, I felt good about the decision. Forall would have fresh incense for the morning interviews and the plate was clean.

The next morning, while helping Forall prepare for morning interviews, I noticed he was kneeling down looking at the incense plate longer than normal. “Where is the incense?” He asked, was a neutral tone. I was puzzled. Did he not notice the fresh piece of incense I’d set up the night before?

I walked over to Forall. The full piece of incense was sitting beautifully placed on the plate. “What do you mean?” I asked.

Forall then went on to explain there was still some incense left from the prior stick the night before and that I shouldn’t throw away resources. Examining my memory of the night before, I realized the mind had been filled with a low grade anxiety which manifested as rushing to finish my responsibilities without the clear comprehension needed to actually complete the task appropriately.

Forall recounted a story of a Zen monk who had been serving as the attendant of the monastery’s teacher. The monk was to bring a pale of water to cool the teacher’s bath. After cooling the bath, the monk threw the few remaining drops water onto the ground. The monk was immediately admonished, his Master explaining how he could have used that water to mindfully water plants. It is said in that moment, this monk attained enlightenment and changed his name to Tekisui, which translates to “A Drop of Water.”

Similarly, I was lightly admonished by Forall and instructed to find the incense. Surprisingly, I found it in the trash as though it were waiting to be found. Later on I burned the remaining incense as an offering to the Buddha, fulfilling its purpose and honoring the deep web of conditions needed to give our community this particular stick of incense and this training space of practice.

I didn’t attain enlightenment from this situation. However, I realized a deeper significance of every drop of water, every ash of incense, every blade of grass, every sensation of breath, every morsel of food, every star in the night sky, and the extraordinary fragility and preciousness of every moment of life.