18 April 2007
confusion will be my epitaph
I've been dreaming my mother is trying to kill me since I was very young. It started out that I would be someplace with my family, but suddenly they'd be gone and something terrifying was trying to get me... and my legs wouldn't work and my screams would make no sound. I think I might have made it to seven by the time these morphed into my mother trying to kill me. Then, somewhere in my thirties my sister joined her. Then it would be my sister, and my mother was in on it. I'm relieved to note that my dad has never been in on this conspiracy to kill me... except insofar as he's never swooped in to save me.
Since beginning the Zen thing for real, any relative showing up in my dreams is the alarm bell for working out problems in the relative vs. absolute, but is that accounting for my mounting terror upon meeting them there?
Last night my sister showed up. But she wasn't my sister. She was an executive of a corporation, with a new face and voice, and impeccably groomed... that plutocratic polish that transcends clean and neat... and my fright was quite nearly abject terror. I kept starting to swim up from the dream, singing and hearing confusion will be my epitaph in the Jakko Jakszyk version, and falling back into the pit with this sister in it, maybe even as though the King Crimson lyric was my cross against the vampire of relative truth. Now I have to figure out how to stop being so frightened, how to meet this sister with strength and clarity, not just sit back proud of myself for hating what she represents so much and succeeding in fending it off.
This isn't strictly it either. I'm terrified of my Zen practice, of the fullness of fundamental reality being so intimidating to my worthless and filthy ego that I end up having lived only to consume air and food and time. So I wobble around worried that the truth keeps giving me a chance and I keep blowing it and that maybe it will stop giving me chances.
With my true eyes I see Sudhana walking the razor ridge of the mountains of fire with every terror below him on either side, and it is me prostrating to the buddhas, dedicating my life to the heroes, of all ten directions.
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