I am not the world’s biggest fan of cleaning, but I was on the rota to clean the temple kitchen and so there I was, removing gack1 from the bin lid and tidying the kitchen shrine.
One of my templemates, David, popped in to make a cup of tea and we chatted about nothing much. Suddenly I felt a pain in my foot. I had stepped onto a sharp fragment of broken ceramic and it had sunk deep into the fleshy part of the ball of my foot. Blood started springing from the hole.
David leapt into action - fetching our First Aid kit, deploying an antiseptic wipe and finding me the cutest little circular plaster. Within a few minutes I had cleared the rather beautiful blobs of dark blood from the floor and could continue my cleaning duties.
I could have dealt with my mini-injury on my own. The cut was in an awkward spot on my foot, though, and it was nice to be looked after. This is why I love community.
There are nine of us here in the temple. Kaspa & I are spiritual leaders of the community and we also hold overall responsibility for maintaining the house and garden, finding residents, doing the accounts and unblocking the sewage pipe that keeps getting blocked. Everyone who lives here is a Buddhist - although I’m not sure about the three dogs and cat - I suspect our cat may be an atheist. We all do Buddhist practice together twice a week alongside the broader local Buddhist community, and we eat together every Friday night.
Kaspa & I set this community up, and so it suits me as much as any community could. And yet…
I’ve really struggled to write this section on why I find community hard2. It keeps sounding like there’s something our community members are doing wrong, and it’s not them - it’s me. There are various threads - my slight control-freakery, how it is to carry the weight of various responsibilities, the relational complications that inevitably arise when you live together with folk.
More than anything, though, I think my struggles are a result of my introversion. Although I love hanging out with people, it always leaves me with less energy than I had before. My system works harder when I am around other people, and that is tiring. This hard work isn’t very much in my control, and it varies from situation to situation, but the weariness accumulates, and the only remedy is time alone. This has shifted over time, as I’ve got better at managing my energy levels, at setting boundaries, and at generally feeling more relaxed when I’m in company. And, I will probably always be this way.
Nothing is straightforward though, is it? Parts of me feel chafed by living in community, and long for a little cottage surrounded by a garden and a fence so I’d be able to invite people in, or not. When our time here is done (not, as far as I know, for many years more) I hope to move into that fantasy cottage, and when I do you can guarantee that I will miss the laughter at our Friday meals, the joyful community of volunteer days, and bumping into Izzy or Dave in the laundry room.
For the last couple of years Angie has taken over the veg patch, which is just outside the wide glass doors of our flat. I am looking at it through my little office window right now. My veg-patch tastes err towards neatness, and when I looked after it myself I always felt terrible when there were weeds in amongst the rows of veg.
Angie has left big patches of leggy daisies and almost-gone-to-seed spinach in clumps and around the edges. She doesn’t like to pull up plants whilst they are in flower, or waste the little spinach leaves that she harvests patiently and lovingly from the old plants. This is not how I would do it.
I am looking out at the vegetable patch right now. The generous clusters of tall daisies are waving in the breeze. A blackbird is rooting around in their shade. There are sprigs of cow parsley and bright poppies - some frilly, some plain, all gorgeous. As these ‘weeds’ soak in the morning sun they smile at me and offer me their blessings.
Living in community means that things happen in ways I don’t like or wouldn’t choose. I hate this. And I love it more than anything.
Go gently,
Satya <3
Tell me: What takes you outside of your comfort zone? Parenting children? Your work? The place you live? The news? How honest are you (with yourself, with others) about the parts of you that find difficult? How might you look after these parts better? Can you also see how it stretches you and grows you and offers you glimpses of unexpected joy? What will you miss about it? How can you make the most of This Time Now?
I just saw online that gack can mean cocaine in the US - just to be clear, we are not a cocaine-using temple (as far as I know…) - I’m using the word to mean disgusting dried-on stuff.
The ‘hate’ of the title was just for literary effect - I don’t actually hate it. This is especially important to tell you if you are reading this and you live in the temple with me 😉
lol cocaine using temple…
I have been struggling over the last few weeks at the house sit we're doing due to the neighbours who live in the annex coming into the side of the house we are in whenever they feel like it and shouting. I was in the kitchen at 06.45 a couple of days after we arrived and the little girl flung the door open and bellowed the dog's name. Completely ignored me. I was on a work Zoom session the other day and the Dad came into the kitchen and just started shouting "Hello, hello, hello" repeatedly until I went down there. He wanted to put some pizzas in the freezer. This is just a couple of incidences of many. I've been feeling invaded.
But I know this is their home and I am just a visitor, so I have been working on my annoyance. Trying to accept that my introversion and need for privacy does not apply to others and I can't expect them to behave the way I want them to. It's been really challenging though!