January 18th, 2010 - Zen Temple, Vermont

I now understand why they put monasteries in the middle of nowhere. Half of us would make a run for it if there were anywhere else to go.

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Sensei asks me to write a letter to my formal Zen teacher. What to write to an older Japanese man who speaks in cryptic riddles and who I don't understand in the least but would trust with my life? Sensei is out, so I spend a few minutes of rebellion thinking of highly inappropriate ways to begin the letter . . .

"Yo Sensei--what up, dawg?"

After days of staring at a wall, it seemed like the funniest thing on earth. Almost peed my pants laughing.

The rest of the afternoon, I folded complex origami envelopes to hold a special New Year's formal greeting for my teacher. Confusing, but after the initial bout of swearing, ridiculously happy-making! the key is to keep in mind how he will feel when he gets it, and now to care if the first thing he feels is amused at how bad Americans are at precision.

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108 bows and very, very sleepy.
suddenly with knees of an old lady.
in the monastery they do 1,000 a day.
crap.