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HENG CH’AU: June 14, 1977. "Get off the roadway." blared the voice over the speaker. California Highway Patrol man stops us. Seems the only legal and safe place to bow is off the pavement but not past the telephone poles. A small corridor, to be sure, on Highway 1. It’s hard on the knees and elbows bowing on gravel and that’s where the weed killer chemicals concentrate. Oh well.
"You’re going to get nailed out here." he says. He was really concerned for our safety.
Impermanence
When traffic is heavy, which is almost always the case, and especially semi trucks, we get hit by winds, dirt, and flying garbage. But the little ants and bugs get swirled and thrown yards at a time.
An ant crawling into his home six inches from my nose, in an instant was ripped into the air by a gust from a passing truck and disappeared. Maybe he/she is now on the beach or in the ocean or on the road. Who knows? Can’t get too attached with that kind of impermanence facing you every step. Are we much different?
Lots of police cars watching us today. Just watching. I’ll probably dream about those black and white Dodges all night.
Bowing on the gravel is painful. My whole body tries to shift the weight off the knees and elbows to compensate. Like when you sprain an ankle the rest of the body adjusts to cover for the unusable part. Result: the rest of the body gets stiff and sore.
As we pulled over into an empty bluff for the night we saw a station wagon. A war veteran with one arm and his friend we had seen earlier were sitting inside. Heng Sure said, "I wonder if they could use some food. We got a lot more today than we need."
"I was just thinking the same thing," I said.
Just then one of them got out and came over, "We were wondering if you had any food you could spare?" We loaded them up, glad for a chance to give. They were really hungry. Good vibes. States: At the end of bowing today after meditation strange visuals. Everything--trees, sand, buildings, cars, socks--was moving almost like the whole planet was breathing and very slowly rippling in waves, like everything was almost not solid but fluid. Spatial dimensions changed and I couldn’t tell usual depth and perspective. An airplane overhead looked so close I could touch it, everything was uniquely separate and yet inseparably one. Too much bowing on gravel and hot sun me thinks! A lay couple brought lunch offering accompanied by two upasikas, one with her son.
In meditation sitting, when I sit, more and more a wave of heat runs up the spinal area and then around the top and then the entire body. Prickling and throbbing, sensitive in palms and on top of head. Much like feeling the sun hit the back of your head, neck and shoulders through a window after being in the shade for awhile--only this is inside as well.