Weekthün in the House!

During this COVID isolation, one of the most noticeable changes in the rhythm of life has been the energy of the house. 

For nearly three years I had grown accustomed to programs full of practitioners spilling through our front door and taking over the place. This was especially true for lively programs such as Family Camp, which bounced a vibe of reunion and friendship against every wall in the house. 

And although dathüns and weekthüns carried a more subdued vibration, the energy was just as palpable. Maybe more so. Practitioners would soak the shrine room with presence for an entire month, and, although a lot of it was in silence, they really livened up the place.

From across the Dining Room I’d see whispered friendships form and blossom. I’d see the loners, my kinsman, writing thoughtfully in cloth-bound notebooks. I’d see the Programs staff rubbing their faces in wide-eyed weariness, checking their watches, consulting their notes, slurping their coffee, then nodding off.

When a dathün left, it was like a plague of grogginess  washed over the staff. I’d sleep in for the next week. Not that my supervisor needs to hear that from any of you.

So having a weekthün in the house again is deja vu all over again. It’s a smaller group, to be sure, plus our online sangha. But the house feels settled, in that weekthün sort of way that I’ve missed so much.

I have a weekthün memory of a patch of sunlight appearing on the Shrine Room floor, then moving slantwise and disappearing, and then, finally, re-appearing slowly with increasing luminosity — all at the whim of clouds 20,000 feet away.

Another memory is the creaking floorboards during walking meditation. I got to know where the loudest ones lived, and would veer off-course each lap just to listen for different kinds of squeaks.

Another memory is a contemplation of why so many of my weekthün memories involve the shrine room floor. 

I’m only joining the current weekthün for short sits now and then because I have to work, and am definitely not sleeping in (despite what you may have heard). Because this place would fall apart without me, as I was just telling my supervisor.  But I recorded this talk for you about the view of meditation, from Acharya Dan Hessey.

I hope it reminds you of your favorite week or month on our shrine room floor.