Once in an interview Soryu asked me how it was to be in the samadhi station, waiting for the interview.
I began to say something off-topic about the experience of practice.
No no, he said. How was it to be in that room, physically. The conditions.
I responded with cheeriness that it was good to wait in the samadhi station. It was fine.
Shouldn’t the doors be open? He asked.
I suddenly realized what conversation he was really trying to have. He told me I should open the doors, at least one if not both.
It was July in Vermont, and it was hot and humid. The doors of the samadhi station, both were shut, and thus the tiny, windowless room was sweltering. I could have seen this and done something about it.
So when I went back to the samadhi station, I opened the door.
Much later, the other person waiting in the samadhi station with me expressed his gratitude that the door was opened.