A Pilgrimage to Upaya

By Blair Mushin Withcomb

I learned years ago, since my initial experiences, not to build expectations on the verge of sesshin. Nonetheless, people’s voices change when they speak of Upaya. Along with the sounds of reverence and respect, there emerges isolated hints of concern - oryoki is one of them. And for someone who struggles to touch ground with forehead, well, we would soon find out.

I knew inspiration awaited, but was I nervous? Let’s just say I kept reviewing every single detail of my travels. What would I need? Would this go smoothly? That all dissipated once Roberta, the registrar, and her assistant, Joann, began to answer my many questions. Providing a warm, comforting welcome, I thanked them both for setting the tone of what would be an everlasting experience.
 
Me and Paula/Jisen, my dharma sister, turned out to be travel buddies too. She was attending the sesshin as well. While there, in the silent introversion of our practice, we had a handful of remote opportunities to look after each other. We committed to the silence, checked in with each other on needed information, and above all, we encouraged one another. We continued to express our love for the sangha, every single one of its members, back home. We shared from the “I can’t wait,” through the animated anticipatory flight and bus ride, to the reflections on the bounty of experiences all the way home.

Initially, I enjoyed the varied rhythms of the sesshin, and occasional free in between moments. However, I’ve known that each meditation retreat can have its own challenges. I had drowsiness to confront. Shinzan gave me some tips, and reassured that, yes, the high altitude shares it's opinion. 

As the week unfolded, I advanced along, settled, and had increasing concentration, albeit recurring distractions of my own. Another early challenge was when I unexpectedly screwed up Oryoki. During the first serving, the first, I dropped the chopsticks and soon after, my spoon. The napkin was not safe either. And you must understand, each of these become such a public event as one server carries the exchanged items through the room with great flourish and bowing. Oh, my oh my! As an old actor, I loved being the center of attention. But not, this, way. Sure, I survived ...following the initial desire to disappear into the floor. Geez, could anything else have gone wrong! Though, something unexpectedly happened a few days after. About a day and half later, we were given the opportunity of a pull-out session to troubleshoot our Oryoki. A woman thanked me for having dropped my utensils. Wearing a smile that lit up her face, she said, "thank you for doing that for me." At that moment, I understood my "screw up" had served a purpose. I had given others the permission to make mistakes. I thanked her in return. I thanked her for the smile and laugh. My oh my. 

The lineage lived everywhere at Upaya. This place is Shinzan’s source. I could walk on the very stones he laid, sit where he learned, refined, and developed. His teacher, Roshi Joan Halifax, who was in Nepal at the time, was present everywhere. Her generous vision made reality from the transmission of teachers before her. The footprints, the gifts from Bernie Glassman, all rested there. Watching. Giving.

For me, my own lineage blended with their roots. I had a surprisingly huge tsunami of emotions which were more than close to surface. I was overflowing. From the moment Shinzan challenged us, at almost mid-point, this was the moment to really give over and enter. I was being invited inside. I took on the large scale. It was my whole spiritual development - on and off - all my life now steady since recovery nearly five years ago. I placed my bet. I was all in.

I erupted with a stream of overflowing emotions! The tears kept coming and coming, over and over. When I arrived home, I was profoundly grateful. I was raw and remarkably vulnerable. I could feel a change, but what was it? I was feeling that which were just words before, “thank you, Blair. Thank you, Mushin.” The abundance was evident.

With my heart overflowing, everything was visible in a way. I took it all in. During the sesshin I would look up at the heavens and take in the countless visible stars. On my way to the zendo, one morning, in the pre-dawn sky, I saw Orion so clear and brilliant that I could almost touch him. What a feeling ... The bus ride from Upaya, on my way home, all the red and brown adobe, demonstrated the deliberate frontier with the round beams, the rough flagstone paths with the uneven steps which required mindfulness. All the details were ever present to me. I was present. What a journey, a pilgrimage really.

Today, I have been busy at home setting out my own lineage project, an unfinished piece from Jukai. I find myself enjoying Shinzan, and the other teachers here at Sweetwater, a little more now. I also find myself speaking a bit more to the dharma in the recovery study book group. I still feel the easy emotional up welling as I write this. I thank my sangha, my family, those who have helped me on my journey, and again to my teacher, Shinzan, who among all the wonders he gives, says, “trust in the dharma.”