In this morning’s service, I had to briefly turn away from the high altar to reach for a stick of incense I had mislaid. An old etiquette habit kicked in: “You must never turn your back on the altar,” the words came.
Just as fast came the acknowledgement that there was no disrespect. No matter where I am, either in the zendo or on the other side of our galaxy for that matter, it is impossible to turn my back on the high altar; I am always facing it. Not figuratively or metaphorically, but actually. That's the situation the experienced meditators here find themselves in. No matter how they turn their body, it is always right in front of them. How could it be otherwise?
Meditators, right where you are now, question yourself “Am I facing the high altar?”
What's the answer?
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i really dislike giving the impression I know what I'm talking about or are some kind of teacher. Honestly I am an old arthritic gentleman with a degenerative neurocognitive disorder that is held in check only by maximum dosages of prescribed medicines, as Master Baird knows from our discourse.
Any facility I have I owe to my root teacher, the incomparable Kusan. A few ashes of the mountain of his merit have sustained me my whole adult life.
What is it that seeks the distinction?