“Keep going.”
This was one of the many sayings of Rev. Koyo Kubose - an often-chuckling American Buddhist teacher. I was lucky enough to meet him online during a two-year training on his and his father’s1 teachings before he died suddenly in 2022.
I received many precious gems from these years but this oft-repeated two word imperative left me cold. It felt simplistic and lacking in empathy. It also sounded like the antithesis of my ‘go gently’ mantra, hard won after decades of striving and straining.
The training ended and many months later, one difficult morning, I found myself saying these two words to myself - quietly, and with encouragement. A few weeks later, it arose again. Since then the mantra has taken permanent residence in a deep part of me, and is available to me whenever I need it most.
As you’ll know if you’ve been reading Going Gently recently, this year leading up to my fiftieth birthday has been one of my toughest so far. I still feel self-conscious as I tell you the reasons for this - moving out of the Buddhist temple we’ve run for a decade, a tortuous and protracted house selling and buying process - as I know many of you have much more serious life events to deal with - but regardless, since February I’ve found it almost unbearably stressful, and we’re fast approaching November with no end in sight.
What does it mean to keep going when our bodies and minds are strained to the limit? When we’re close to dropping or exploding, isn’t that the last thing we need to hear, or to do?
I don’t see this mantra as an injunction - as an order to ‘keep pushing yourself beyond your limits’. This push-push-push way of doing life is very supported by much of our current culture. It tells us that we should be self-sufficient, resilient, and brim-full of self-will. The only difference between a successful person and a struggling person is how hard they are trying. Never mind the legacies of inequality, never mind the current vast systems of oppression. Never mind our failing eco-system and our weakening bodies. Pull yourself up by your own bootstraps! Get on with it!
I don’t hear it like this. I hear it instead as a parent’s whisper to their child as they go through the torment of learning to tie their laces. I hear it in Rev. Koyo’s fondly-amused reality-acknowleding voice. I hear it as the leaves rustling, the dog snoring, the fridge humming, the robin singing his heart out. The Universe sings it to me, sweetly.
How do we keep going? We take a deep breath and we take the next, small step.
Sometimes this step means finally acknowledging the cauldron of emotion that has been bubbling inside us, and the cost of keeping a lid on it. Sometimes it means booking an emergency week off work before we break into pieces. Sometimes it means asking for help with the boundary we haven’t been able to set for ourselves. Sometimes we just plough on with our tax return. Sometimes we cancel the difficult thing and dance through the mounds of bright autumn leaves instead.
I find that, if I clear some space, the next small step comes to me. But this pointer doesn’t always (or often) come from ‘inside’ of me.
I was offered this phrase by Rev. Koyo, who was a man of deep faith. From what I learnt about him, and from my own experience of him, Rev. Koyo was difficult to unsettle. On the surface he was laid back, humble, sharing anecdotes of playing cards with friends, brushing his teeth, his daily morning runs. Underneath, he had roots that went deep down into the earth. He was connected to the deep wisdom of the world, and it was evident that he was continually nourished by this. Rev. Koyo’s version of ‘keep going’ reminds me that, just as it was for him, I am not alone. The Buddha is accompanying me.
Sometimes the Buddha is the comfort of my cat’s delight at seeing me, or a card from Tosha Silver’s oracle pack. Sometimes the Buddha is a stranger who smiles at me in the supermarket. Sometimes it’s some slightly painful feedback that’s exactly the kick up the bottom I need. Sometimes it’s a tortuous and protracted house buying-and-selling process, and the precious wisdom gleaned from it - unlikely to have arisen in any other way. (I hate that.)
You may be accompanied by Buddhas, or other wise humans in the form of poetry or podcasts, or God, or the wild wisdom of nature, or the reliable kindness of your beloved childhood dog.
I get that it may not FEEL like this. You may feel utterly alone. If this is true for you right now, this piece of writing is especially for you. I really do trust that you are accompanied by those beings or by a force that blesses you, and I wish you the courage to allow it to touch you - even just the very edge of the very edge.
Even without any of this good company, we have this: Rev. Koyo told us to ‘keep going’ because he’d found it useful for himself, and he wanted to pass this usefulness on. He taught Buddhism because he cared about the suffering of other people, and he wanted to pass on the good things he’d received. When we keep going we are always in relationship - not just with our fellow humans (as wonderful and infuriating as they are) but in relationship with all of existence.
It’s why I’m here too.
How do we keep going? We just do the next small right thing. If we don’t know what that is, we wait and we listen. Sometimes we have to wait and listen for a long time. Keep waiting. Keep listening.
If the next small right thing is getting under the duvet and having a cry, then good - do that. Stay there as long as you need to. Let the warm dark hold you.
Then, when it is the next small right thing, pull the duvet down, put the kettle on, and keep going.
Today I kept going, even though what I really wanted to do after this morning’s emotional outburst (like an angry storm breaking) was turn away from these words, turn away from myself, shut everything down like a gift shop out of season. Instead I turned towards myself - gently, kindly - and in return I have been gifted with all these words, all this encouragement, all this hope.
Maybe we’ll have a breakthrough in our house move today. Maybe it’ll be next week, or the week after. In the meantime I can keep going - one foot in front of the other - as the world rains brilliance on me.
Go gently,
Satya <3
Tell me: What helps you to keep going?
Rev. Gyomay Kubose
Lovely and strong post. We can only truly take one step at a time, whether walking or running, and that one step begins the chain of connected steps. This is a thought that can provide shelter for the mind.
Thank you. I especially loved "I hear it as the leaves rustling, the dog snoring, the fridge humming, the robin singing his heart out. The Universe sings it to me, sweetly." So beautiful. I appreciate being reminded of the Buddhist perspective through your writings. The acceptance of suffering and the emphasis on interconnectedness and compassion feels like just the medicine I need right now.