Wednesday, November 26

Stormy weather continues. Sunday night was just fine; the Uposatha Chat went well, that guy Greg didn't show up, Sakula was there and we talked about her jhanic experiences at this most recent retreat she sat. Was feeling fine again, open-hearted and equanimous.

The fineness continued into Monday, until Laura came over, from 8:00 to 9:20 (and yes, that is very specific). She shared with us the telephone conversation she'd had with Ron's daughter, Greta, and read to us the eulogy Ron's lifelong friend Duncan had delivered at his funeral, and read to us the follow-up letter Laura had written to Greta.

Hearing about Ron again, remembering his suicide, touched off (yet another) firestorm, which continues to rage. It isn't about Ron & Laura at all, really; hearing about that was merely the dropped match which ignited the dry leaves in this arid heart.

Sitting practice has become very hard. Very little meditation occurs. It hurts, it burns, it burns...

"Doctor, it hurts when I do this."
"Well, keep doing that."
"Huh?"

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