when the student is ready…

The following writing is an excerpt of a theatrical-memoir I am currently working on entitled, “Letters We Wrote When the World Fell Down” commissioned by Canadian Stage. The piece explores what it’s like to be a playwright (in a time when all the theatres are closed) who finds herself practising mindfulness. This section chronicles how I stumbled into metta and sati practice.

HOW I MET YOU IN SCARBOROUGH AND YOU OPENED MY EYES BY CLOSING THEM  

After thinking energy healing was just the latest crock of snake-oil-new-age-flakery and avoiding it despite it increasingly popping up in my life, I found myself in the suburban kitchen of a Reiki Master. The kitchen, done mostly in 1970’s wood accents, was not unlike the vintage vibe of The Oracle’s kitchen in The Matrix. I didn’t notice that at the time because I was too immersed in my own ‘Keanu Reeves as Neo’ experience of clunky skepticism. (Don’t worry, I’m not “The One”).

But something happened that day that had nothing to do with what I thought, and within a few weeks of quitting every artistic project I was affiliated with except one, I was making the 2 hour TTC commute back to the wood panelling of 1970’s to learn Reiki.

If one comes across authentic energy healing and is open to it that is a special experience indeed. If one comes across the multitudes of inauthentic energy healing proliferating wildly across the internet that is unfortunate and also very common. Though training in energy healing has become a meaningful part of my journey and entirely changed the way I experience the world that is not the story I am telling right now. It’s an important moment on the path but not the path itself.   

 MY TEACHER:         This has nothing to do with your Reiki training, but do you            meditate?

 I:  No. I hate meditating. I’m a writer so my mind just makes up stories if I try to do it, and I like the stories better than the meditating.

 (As my grade 12 Philosophy teacher would say, pregnant pause)

MY TEACHER:    ……I think you might find meeting my teacher interesting.

I:      (Nodding “Yes” with head while feeling “Not a chance” in heart)

IT’S ALL HAPPENING NORTH OF BLOOR, FOLKS

2 weeks and another long TTC journey later, this time I’m lost outside of Bessarion Station looking for an address in North York. It turns out to be a condo building. No signage.

CONDO CONCIERGE: Oh yeah, that event’s in the basement theatre room. Follow me.

I: (Nodding “yes” with head while feeling “Should I bail?” in heart)      

 A room full of women who all know each other turn to see this random leather-jacket-wearing- south-of-Bloor-hipster standing in the doorway. Another pregnant-ish pause. A smiley woman approaches.

            SMILEY WOMAN:   Hello, are you here for the mediation?

            I:                                  I’m one of (Reiki Master’s) students.

(Her smile gets somehow more expansive)

            SMILEY WOMAN:   How wonderful.

She approaches me with these open arms that only a loving matriarch over 50 can do. It’s that wide open stance that isn’t a hug but embraces the presence of whoever it’s directed at with genuine warmth and a bearing of the heart space. My grandmother died 14 years ago but it feels like being with her. This woman (whose name is Susan) is filled with Metta and she is welcoming me with friendship just because I’m there.

TALK METTA TO ME

Metta is a Pali word that means loving kindness. Metta is an aspect of Buddhist practice concerned with cultivating loving kindness in the heart towards all living beings. We can think of it like friendship, but one that isn’t dependent on getting anything in return. When we have Metta our heart extends equally to all living things as welcome. Metta is not an idea. It is something we feel in the chest. It can feel a lot of ways. When I first began cultivating Metta I experienced it as a buzzy, warm, expansive, bright feeling. As Metta develops and matures it can become a very subtle feeling. One that is quietly attentive, delicate and peaceful. The heart is gently smiling.

Metta is unconditional. Metta regenerates itself. Metta requires nothing back.

When we have Metta in our hearts we love ourselves and all beings simply because they are. Without any expectation that they need to be different than how they are in order to be loved with kindness, friendship, and tenderness.

Many people struggle to cultivate Metta or let themselves experience it when offered. The idea of kindness being unconditional is not something we’re used to. Many people cry/shutdown/get itchy/can’t sit still/inwardly thrash a bit when they first experience Metta (myself included).

So, if one night you find yourself deep in the belly of a North York Condo building with a small group of people who you’ve never met but who all seem to know each other and feel 1000% more at ease than you do, especially when the teacher (who you do not yet know is your other teacher) walks in the door, sits down, and without any formal introduction begins cultivating a group Metta practice by inviting you to “not try too hard” (despite how confused you feel), I can say with certainty that you are in the right place. And no, you really don’t have to worry about trying too hard, or the doubt you’re feeling, or the endlessly chatting mind because…

all that is welcome too 

everything inside you

is welcome here

exactly as it is

unsure

a little afraid

filled with suspicion

on and off bored and impatient

doubting this whole damn thing

this whole damn life

this whole damn basement of a condo

this whole damn offer of

acceptance

this whole damn offer

of kindness

this whole damn offer of

love

just because

you exist.

THANK YOU, YES, I’LL TAKE MORE OF THAT SHINY PLEASE

Even though I hate meditation I am surprisingly moved by the Metta. Which means I cried like there was no tomorrow until that was replaced by a feeling of effervescence. As I left the condo basement I’d never seen the city more beautiful. North York was shining like a diamond and Bessarion station appeared as a bejewelled palace.

I decided to sign up for more of that shiny stuff because that feeling sure beat existential free fall.

Fast forward to fall 2019.

I find myself in a small gymnasium an hour and a half from my house. The group is bigger this time. The teacher comes in and I get ready for my Metta sparkles.

Instead, he dives right into a Dhamma talk on the correct principles of Mindfulness for Insight Practice.

Everyone else is nodding along.  

Everyone else is taking it in because everyone else knows they have signed up for Mindfulness for Insight Practice. Which is what this 5 week class is.

Not Metta. This is not a 5 week class in Metta. Only I think that’s what I signed up for and am expecting this class to be.

Which it’s not.

There are no sparkles here.

I am deeply confused and have no idea what this man is talking about or whether or not I am in the right gymnasium 1.5 hours from my house. I try to blend and appear like I know where I am and chose to be here, especially when the teacher points out that I am new and asks me to introduce myself.

    I:          I’m Susanna. Hi. (Smiling with face, “let this be over soon” in heart)

When the student is ready, the teacher appears.

When the student goes home that night she checks the website because she is still 1000% sure she signed up for the other course. There’s been a simple mistake. She’ll just switch into the Metta course.

But there is no other course. This is the only course that’s listed.

What?

This isn’t what she wanted.

She wanted sparkles. Not “insight”.

She wanted to feel buzzy. Not confused.

She wanted to feel in control of her life. Not totally unsure of her ability to read a website.

When the student is ready, they might not actually know what they are ready for.