My alarm didn't go off and Sensei had food poisoning in the night. When I didn't appear at my usual Ungodly Hour, she dragged herself out to my cabin to be sure I wasn't dead.
I only had a touch of what hit her fast and terribly, making its mark and moving along. She said, laughing, that she passed out in the bathroom, thought she was going to die, and wrote me a note saying "Don't eat the sprouts!"
Glad to know what her parting message of wisdom would be to me. Perfectly Zen.
As my stomach gurgled and threatened all day, my body became tired and I struggled to meditate. Then I remembered what she said about being buried. Stop struggling and remember how to get to the center. Know how to get there from wherever you are.
She says I need a mantra or some reminder, so if death or pain comes quickly I can think of that rather than "oh, shit!"
I practiced quieting my own struggle tonight, sitting through a lot of pain and exhaution and sickness. It's the best possible practice. Exactly why I am here.
Tomorrow I try again.
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