new moon in cancer

i wake with the feeling of the knife in the back of the heart. after taking asana and breakfast, i am to drive Lama Lorraine to physical therapy. i pick her up and am a little nervous. i am wearing a nice dress and shawl to be respectful. i am surprised that she remembers my name. she is grandmotherly and has a british accent and i ask her about her journey to buddhism and she talks about her life the whole way and i am so intrigued listening closely, breathing only a little. her view is panoramic. she sees the deer as she fondly talks of her brother who introduced her to the dharma and she even sees me subtly roll my shoulders back to secretly massage the aching heart. she reaches out to me and massages my upper back and it touches me to be with such an attentive, loving being. i think that is all we want, really. to be seen. she is fast and gentle. she remembers all the turns and she speaks swiftly and clearly and fills the space with her equanimity and compassion. she is fiercely softly present. she is old and young. i drop her off and she says you did a great job see you in an hour. i go to drop off the water samples while i wait for her and also go to walgreens and call my mother who is joyous to hear from me. i talk with her as i wander the aisles and meander back to the car. i go back because it is almost time and then dad calls too because he woke up and i have been thinking of him so much during this time — so much about the father. they love me unconditionally. i will never be able to repay their love, but i will try. Lama and i drive back and talk about perfect math and british hats, yeshe tsogyal and the Heart. we went to the same school and she also is very curious about the number zero. she says ask your mother about zero — what does she think? i say is it emptiness? and she says perhaps but also there is more. i return to the sangha house and make lunch with two women who talk about kundalini and doubt and being of service. one woman has bipolar II and another man here has disorganized schizophrenia. they are on medication. there is just deep suffering and we all come together to be ok. the tension in my chest builds. eventually i confess to accidentally eating another guy’s plum, actually two because they rolled out of the bag, and he jokes that it’s not ok but it gets to me in the current tenderness, and i go outside and finally release everything, rivers from the eyes streaming swiftly, i am in the fetal position, sobbing from the gut. Ani Ngawang finds me and is so worried and asks if i fell down and i can barely say no no it’s ok, i don’t know what is happening. her soft, caring motherly tone makes me break down even more deeply and she coos like the mama bird “come sit next to me”, and puts my shawl over my shoulders and holds my hands while i sob and sob because of the knots unraveling in the heart and she says shh shh don’t cry look at the sky, and she reminds me of my name and where we are. and i tell her it hurts so much this heart and that i am selfish and i want to help but sometimes i feel like a mother standing on the side of a stream with no arms as her children drift away down the current and sometimes i feel like the children. and she says all of it is good, do not give up, and she was there and Lama Laia too and it’s ok be kind to yourself. and i cry more about the Father, our Father, and that i cleaned the mirror wrong with clorox wipes instead of the skillful way and i worry i am the same way with cleaning the mirror of the heart and i am so scared and she says i have an idea. let’s go to the gonpa and pray to the protectors and i cry while we walk and the heat outside had been oppressive but i feel that it is about to break. and she holds my hand still and we walk and enter the gonpa. we light the incense as an offering to the enlightened ones and she puts out two cushions for us, dark blue and burgundy, and opens a large book. we say the prayers together at first but then she tells me to listen while she reads to me. and she helps me so much and i long to help others the way she is helping me. she is Tara. soon she goes to the second floor to pray, leaving me alone, but not alone, and tells me to talk to the protectors, they are listening to you, she says. and so i do, placing my forehead on the cold tile and the palms face up. and when i come back i make a cup of coffee with cinnamon and talk to Lama Laia — his name means ‘endless breath’. and he is so clear in his speech and comforts me and says you have a genuine heart. and there is so much pure love all around that it shatters me and i want peace and contentment for my parents who have given me everything and all beings who have been my parents and i pray to understand this, really. the sincere heart is like a magnetic field for miracles, do you know? Lama Laia says please rest, and i lay on the deck on a red towel and look at the sky and press on this body. this body. this body. she knows everybody. and i am in love with everyone around and i need a lot of solitude too. back in the gonpa later that evening i press on Kidney-27, at the very top of the chest, the chest which is the mansion that houses the spirit. my yoga teacher helped me learn about the points, which are like a map of liberosis inside. we are all helping eachother to breathe a little deeper and live fully, little by little. this breath. and now this one. listen, it is ok to learn to be yourself and be a good and whole human. you are so good. i love you.