A Letter from Arinna March 18, 2007

Greetings Dear Friends:

The leaves of the eucalyptus trees are rustling in the wind, it has turned to Fall. The carrot we left out for Wally, the wolliby a kangaroo like animal with an incredible bounce, was frozen yesterday morning. Along with Wally there are eleven wild parrots with glowing red feathers a couple of black and white magpie like birds and a wild pidgeon indigenous to this region all sharing breakfast with me. It is so cold I am wearing all my warm clothes having left the US with the misconception that it was going to stay warm for a long time, until May or June at least! Sati Forest monastery is about 2 1/2 hours south of Sydney in what is called southern highlands. This means it has more rainfall
than other eastern regions, and is an accurate description because it has been raining all most every day. A blessing for the land as there has been a drought for the last three years. The monastery is situated on a ledge of a gorge, at the bottom of which is a small creek that cascades as a waterfall into a pool surrounded by ferns and moss. I usually clamber down to sit there in the afternoons in this space of green and moisture, otherwise the land, about 100 acres is a little more desert like with sandy soil and millions (or probably more) of red and black ants, small and very large.

There are six monks and two nuns living here and two lay people one of whom is leaving today. So the community is small and because of this and also because the abbott Ajahn Sujito is quite relaxed the energy is informal. Breakfast
is at 6:30, lunch is 11am and fruit juice and chocolate served at 6pm. A work meeting is 7:30 am where the Abbot decides what needs to be done and by whom. Because there are so few lay people here I am in the kitchen cooking and washing dishes. A lovely opportunity to work with preference (and I have also asked for help). After lunch the afternoon is free and also most evenings except for Weds where there is a dharma talk and Sat a group sitting and chanting. Both happen in an amazing cave which they are carving out. It can already seat about 50 people and instead of building a dharma hall they are working on creating this inner sanctuary in the earth. There is no electricity so the walls and alter are alight with candles, an amazing atmosphere for meditation. I live in a little yurt down the hill, with a kettle and heater, the basic necessities of life. There is a sandy walking path right in front which the ants have not completely taken over and where you might find me before sunrise doing walking meditation as the light changes and the birds begin their early morning singing.

I find myself feeling comfortable here and continue to work with the challenges of sexism and community life.

This reminds me of the time I bought a pair of cotton trousers from a dear friend who owns a clothes store. They were faded green and hung low on my hips, reminding me of when I was a teenager. It was a treat for both of us; for me because I rarely buy casual cotton trousers, it is cheaper to go to the local hospice thrift store, and for her because she mentioned business wasn't doing well with the recession. Susan said she would alter the hem- the bottoms lay puddled around my feet- and so she proceeded to pin them below my ankles. I took out my credit card to pay and stood transfixed for a moment when she said $57, with tax $62.27. I really had no idea a pair of cotton hang-around trousers could be that expensive, and I would have placed them back on the hanger with no regret if we had not already made pin holes. Still, having made this unintentional investment in my clothes future, I looked forward to wearing my new trousers, which were soft and fleece-like on the inside, because the last week had, changed to rainy days and cool weather. It took Susan a few days to hem them as she was a single mom, and then
another few days to figure out how to get them to me without making a forty-minute drive. I asked her mother, a close friend who drives to and from town, "Can you pick up some new trousers I just bought?" For the next few days I kept expecting to hear a knock at my door or a package of my recent purchase laid out carefully under the eaves. Nothing. So I called Margaret, "Do you have my new pants?" "Oh yes", she replies. "Well could you drop them off?"
"Well I am really busy". "Okay, how about I stand on the road and all you need to do is to stop the car and give them to me?" â"That will work" she replies, and I sigh a sigh of relief. We agree she will call me right before she leaves home. I usually leave my phone off the hook in case someone decides to ignore my late night late morning rhythm and call me before 8 am but don't this time so I can hear her call. Well of course I get several calls early in the morning having had a particularly awful attack of insomnia and go out to the road in a mood that can only be called grumpy. I get the trousers and immediately put them in the wash so I can wear them. They shrunk so badly they now flap above my ankles as though I were six years old at the beach preparing to play among the waves. In his wonderful book In This Very Life, U Pundita has several chapters on cultivating the seven factors of enlightenment; mindfulness, investigation, energy, joy, calm concentration, and equanimity. At the end of each chapter he lists the conditions that support the arising of these factors. Number one on each list is the same: inclining the mind towards that factor. I think of this as I incline my mind towards acknowledging again the unsatisfactoriness of green cotton trousers, transportation, and friends' schedules or the inherent incapacity of our material world to bring lasting happiness. How right the Buddha is! It is actually a relief to acknowledge this truth again.

As I sat by the creek yesterday and watched the waterfall slide on its silky path down the rocks I was reminded again of the deep peace which comes from letting go of expectations and attachments and how this allows the beauty of life to touch us. And so dear friends I wish for you this peace. Blessings, Blessings, Blessings.

The address here is Santi Forest Monastery, Lot 6 Coalmines Road PO Box 132 Bundanoon, NSW 2578, Australia

end

It is early morning and I am lying in bed. There are a line of red splotches, running down my stomach, across my left side and more sporadically down my arms and legs, each with a head of yellow liquid. They look like spider bites. There must be a whole family of them. In my bed? I have even waited with the lamp on at 1:50 am and with my arms exposed in sacrificial offering to entice these hidden diners to see who they are. The bites are really itchy and then painful. When I walk my clothes rub against them so that I am constantly scratching. This morning after not sleeping, I was plagued with questions. Do I have chiggers; some kind of animal I read about when I looked up fleas on the internet. They burrow into the skin and leave lines of red swelling. Perhaps it is sand fleas? Should I go to a doctor? Doctors won't know, I should figure it out myself and then a moment of recognition: This is anxiety. I switch to loving kindness "May I be happy." The tightness in my inner voice is so uncomfortable I want to turn away and distract myself, maybe read? Back to "I wish for ease and peace of mind and body." I sing the words silently to myself to ease the tension, "May I meet myself with kindness." I begin to feel some relief and I take a moment to acknowledge that I am offering myself a loving environment by offering these wishes. I begin to relax into my bed of spiders, sand fleas or chiggers.

It is astounding to see once again I have taken my anxiety as caring when it is not that at all. I continue the phrases and come back into my heart. I don't want this to sound like one of those self affirmation books where all you have to do is say a few phrases and everything is transformed. This morning I felt blessed that my mind could open to the phrases and settle into them. Sometimes I say them and it is as dry as emery boards and as rough.. Sometimes it is just the discipline of doing it that has to be enough. I am washing all my bedding and I have vacuumed everywhere. Caring in thought caring in action. May the lag time between our anxiety, recognition and love continue to diminish.