This morning very early I awoke and baked a little squash, made two breakfast burritos with egg and beans and cheese and spinach, threw in some yogurts and a loaf of homemade bread and a jar of apple butter and went down to the public market and saw the monk standing with his begging bowl. I bowed to him and gave him all the food and he sang a prayer of gratitude and wonder.
I told him when I am cooking for him, I do it as mindfully as I can. I remember I am cooking and serving the Buddha, as the example for us all to fully awaken from our dream of life. He is the stand-in for our purest desire to be better people, to help and serve and be kind whenever we can. I told him all that. He reminded me that there are bad monks and I'm sure there are because we're all human and we are capable of terrible things. It takes courage to show up every day and be a good person, not an asshole person. I have some ways to go because of anger and sadness and disappointment but it's always good to make an effort.
It is very early in the morning to go meet the little monk. It's almost like this secret and weird thing I am doing. It's part of my spiritual practice.
I was very happy to see he was wearing actual shoes in the rain. He reminded me that in Asia, the monks go for alms in their bare feet. Quite impractical in the PNW, indeed.
Much love.
4 comments:
It makes my heart heart happy that you are on this planet.
I, too, sing a song in wonder and gratitude that you are here.
Dear Coyote, you brought me food good delicious food when I was in need, you left it on my porch, and you never expected me to do a song and dance for it. I will never ever forget your kindness.
Love,
Rebecca
Beautiful. All of it.
Dearest Rebecca-
Oh, I do remember that. And I remember the beautiful food you provided to us in your living room. And the tea pot. And your wise guidance.
XXXX
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