Tuesday, January 23, 2018
7:54 p.m.
Now we all play
We’re the moth to the
flame
We were aware of the
danger
But we could not look
away
My eyes are open
--Typhoon
Mental exhaustion can bring the body to a grinding halt; as
I sat at the table and watched my hands slowly cradle my head, fingers
caressing temples, I knew this to be true. I rose at 5:15 and the time clock whirred its digital clunk at 5:52. Fifteen minutes in silent meditation was all the
morning would allow; students arrive at 9:30.
When working with people who experience life vastly
different from you, one has two choices: give yourself over completely to their
needs, or fail. Some days,
however, a teacher can let go of ego to the fullest extent of their ability and
still not get deep enough inside the mind of a student. The pain of those days
is akin to childbirth in that, those who experience the suffering quickly
forget so they will continue the work which it wrought.
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