You, out there,
You know how you go to take a shower and you notice,
there's stuff growing, and not exactly in a spiritual way,
so you take it upon yourself to put a stop to the mess by
scouring the whole thing, tub, tiles, walls above, gaps
and grooves within? Well, swell, that just happened here.
You're standing there unclothed, sopping wet, and you
know good and well it's been a month of Sundays since
this job's been done in a thorough way, with cleanser
and brush and might, plenty of muscle. So you decide
to take it on. It's time; the color's showing; you're ready.
You give it everything you've got. Awareness, attention,
determination, devotion, discipline, alongside discerning
what's a gap and what's a groove. You really bring the
self to a sweat, which happens to be alright, since you're
about to shower, after all. All considered, it's a good thing.
Work seems complete, everything's as clean as can be or
as you can make it, for there remain grout stains that need
super human effort to clear. Then it hits you, face forward.
In the spirit there's a difference between clean and clear.
Coming clean's a matter of effort for body, mind and soul.
Being clear's a gift of spirit. You cannot earn clarity, nor
can you command it. What you can do, is make the effort
by practice to prepare a space for its arising, preferably
some emptiness, since it won't fit what's full of itself. One
other thing, stains are no verdict but signs of work to do.
Still, it's all a work in process. You need not do it all today,
or alone. So you contemplate, each and every deed done
in spirit tests your authenticity and your perseverance, the obedience of your duty to the moment. And with the right
view, even the test turns out to be gift, no grade, no verdict.
There, all clear, all clean for now. But you note what's next.
Sooner or later, you do it all again. Showers don't last forever.
As well, there are those pesky stains to work on, to work with.
