MAPLE tales icon MAPLE Tales

Directly in the moment

For the first few days of the Awakening Period of early summer in the 12th year of training at the Monastic Academy for the Preservation of Life on Earth, my practice couldn’t get off the ground. I had sustained an injury in the afternoon of the first day, making most sitting postures uncomfortable and handicapping me during morning exercise; I had a hard time rousing energy and I found myself struggling with stupor for every sitting period. I wasn’t passing my interviews—I’d been first in the rotation in the evening dharma discussions and didn’t manage to do more than breathe at Forall when he asked me questions about my assignment, “What is power?”—a question I’d been grappling with for months. In my last interview, he told me to ask the question “with curiosity, wonder, gratitude and excitement—in a word, exhilaration.” (Those familiar with the training at MAPLE will recognize the significance of this word for Step 3 of the Jade Method, a meditation technique that we chant each morning. For many months I’ve shown up to almost every interview in Step 2 of the Jade Method, striving to enter Step 3.)

For the next day, I tried to relate to my question and my practice in a fresh way, and in so doing cultivated, through great efforts, a greater wellspring of energy than I’d been able to access. When that evening’s dharma discussion rolled around, I was alert, invigorated, determined to stay with my breath throughout my time in the interview space and demonstrate my practice as deeply and authentically as I could. When Soryu turned to me and said my name, without hesitation I thundered, “What is power? Ask this question with exhilaration!” Then I inhaled and said, with slightly more reserve and a flicker of self-consciousness, “Jade Method Step 2.” “Hm. Was that exhilaration?” be asked. “That was energy,” I offered cautiously. A subtle thought had passed through me without fully pulling me out of the focus space—something like, “well if I’m only in Step 2, it couldn’t really be exhilaration.”

“Hmmmmm… Okay. Isn’t there amazement right in it?” I let out a brief strong exhale as his words landed. It was true—I had surprised even myself. “This moment doesn’t have to be planned, doesn’t have to be analyzed, doesn’t have to be described. This moment, this moment, this moment, this moment, this moment. Everything you’ve learned about power is a burden. To set it aside is exhilaration.”

After this, for the first time on the retreat, I found myself able to respond articulately, even vivaciously, as the interview continued. He referenced the guided meditations that were focused on letting go into the moment, which I found helpful and really possible—in that moment, whereas most of the day was a more intentional process of cultivation. “During the guidances I find a wellspring of energy I’m able to tap into directly in the moment, but for the rest of the day I…”

“Should be directly in the moment,” he cut in. “The rest of the day you should be directly in the moment. Directly in the moment. Directly in the moment. Directly in the moment.” He continued to repeat himself in this way. “Be surprised. Constantly. How? By forgetting.”

Without my having mentioned it, he had cut to the quick of my struggles on this retreat: I kept getting mired in memories, sometimes joyful and sometimes regretful, but constantly pulling me away from the moment. “That’s been the challenge,” I said ruefully.

“That is your challenge,” he said, followed by a spacious, pregnant pause. “But if you throw yourself into the moment, it won’t always be your challenge. Again. And again. And again.”

After our exchange concluded, he offered a few words to my whole group. “It is good to get out. I say this just in case you have any doubts about it.”