Sometimes practice comes easily … the bright moon seems to follow us everywhere we go, the night forest draws near with its strange creatures and ancient trees, and without effort, we find ourselves at home wherever we are.

But other times practice is gruelling … we can barely tolerate the world, our body, our mind; everything is wrong or tangled or dull, and though we bring ourselves to the cushion, or try, the way seems wholly lost or out of reach.

What to make of this? One of the great old families in our tradition, the Pangs, found themselves exploring this quandary one day when someone asked about the nature of practice.

“Difficult, difficult,” said the father; “like trying to scatter ten measures of sesame seed all over a tree.”

But his wife disagreed.

“Easy, easy,” she said; “like touching your feet to the ground when you get out of bed.”

“Neither difficult nor easy,” offered their daughter, opening the territory a little wider; “on the hundred grass tips, the great Masters’ meaning.”

What if it’s impossible to be outside the field of awakening?

This Sunday we’ll take up with the Pangs and their inescapable joy. Join us.

—Tess Beasley

Waking up is something we do together, in the online temple on Sunday. We love it when you join us. 

—John Tarrant Roshi and all of us at PZI