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Danger at the Zendo

mindbodylosangeles

I can't think of a way around it, that the photo is the punchline. Sorry.


THE BACK STORY: In 2011 or so, I bought three pairs of Toms shoes to wear while leading Integral Qigong and Tai Chi. I'm still wearing them. After all this time, it has come to be that my big toe [not pictured!] on each foot protrudes from a hole in each shoe. I reckon, "How many things by season seasoned are/To their right praise and true perfection" (Merchant of Venice V. i. 115); so, I don't replace them. But for years I have thought that I should repair them decoratively with embroidery. I have taken no action.



THE STORY: Four weeks ago, I arose at the crack o' dawn, early enough to allow for a leisurely awakening, before getting myself to 8:00AM Zen meditation. I was especially disgruntled that morning. No reason in particular. I wore something on my feet other than any one of my holey Toms shoes.


Right at the top of the hour, our facilitator Steve sounded the bowl three times to mark the beginning of zazen. About three minutes later, I had a vision and nearly broke the Noble Silence with a guffaw. I saw my needlework completed on my shoes. Stitch by stitch, on each shoe, I had produced a trompe l'œil: an embroidered big toenail, protruding out of an embroidered hole, complete with embroidered frayed edges. My amusement was almost more than I could contain and cornered me into drawing on all my years of practice to behave myself.


The image persisted. The risk of guffawing persisted. I considered slipping out of the zendo, before I embarrassed myself. After many reps of returning my focus to my breath (mostly motivated by fear of making a fool out of myself), I managed to maintain decorum. But close call!


Note: That's an index finger of mine in the photo, inserted through the hole for the purpose of this post.


 
 
 

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