I’m remembering the film, The Piano, as I explore a Zen koan in which a young boy loses his finger. In the film, Ada, the main character, loses her finger — in a dramatic scene that is hard to erase from memory — when her enraged husband drags her to the chopping block. Ifeared he would do much worse with the axe.

Zen koans, much like Old Testament stories, sometimes have a little violence…

The preference for things to be otherwise makes those things into a heavy load. But even in the midst of a cancer treatment, there can be “ah,” like when the nurse is so kind and helpful or when a loved one shows they care. In fact, in the midst of such treatment, it can happen that all becomes "clear and undisguised” because all the usual dramas are swept away, sometimes permanently. As the treatise of Seng T’san continues, “When not attached to love or hate, all is clear and undisguised. Separate by the smallest amount, however, and you are as far from [the truth] as heaven is from earth.”

I have a preference for being outside in most kinds of weather, but lately I spend all day every day indoors. It would have angered me to live this way ten years ago. My house has big windows and many cross breezes. It has a view onto a few gardens and the colours bring me great joy in spring. I would prefer it if the beetles didn't eat my lilies again this year! I’ve learned to put less stock in my preferences, as they are often misguiding. Not investing in them allows me to have gratitude for the gifts in my life rather than grumbles about what's missing…

This fox was very, very old. He had lived for five hundred lives. It wasn’t easy being a fox. People thought he was a mischievous trickster and a bad omen. He lost many lives as they tried to get rid of him. He lost many lives because his fur was precious. Especially his tail. When he got too close to people they kicked him away and tried to harm him. But most of the time he spent doing what foxes do. Looking for food, sleeping, frolicking, sniffing out other foxes to mate with or avoid, and always being alert for danger. (photo by Laura Chisholm Smith, Haliburton)

Last month I spoke at the Warriors of Hope AGM. It was an honour to speak to a group of (mostly) women who have fought their own battles with cancer — in addition to all the other challenges life throws at us humans. It was humbling to speak to a room full of brave and inspiring people. “Why me?” I asked the warrior friend who invited me and who had been a big help during my recovery from breast cancer. She said I embodied the values of the Warriors of Hope — camaraderie, commitment, courage, and compassion. I demonstrated true warrior spirit, she said. So I spoke to how adversity and mindfulness have worked together in my life to bring about those qualities.

In any relationship, we may feel a sense of closeness, love, camaraderie, responsibility, dependence, and so much more. And then along comes some serious hardship that can elevate our relationship to each other. To a place where we can lean on each other, be vulnerable, learn, trust in life, and in our friends, and begin to feel that our time together is both tenuous and precious. Each moment comes alive. Each interaction has a spark of the divine.

Psychotherapy can help us understand the roots of our suffering, ourselves, our traumas, and how unskillful behaviour causes harm. Mindfulness, meditation, or spiritual practice can help with these too, but also gives us the means to let go of those things. At some point there is no longer any need to delve into our psychological hangups and painful patterns and finally just put them down. Climbing that sacred mountain and leaving our baggage behind so there is lightness of being, surprise, energy, curiosity.

As I share what I've learned about koans and my experience with them, things might get too obtuse, confusing, or far out. It’s likely helpful then to note that working with these koans helps one to live with more peace, ease, confidence, and compassion. At the very least, having a touchpoint each day, hour, moment is a great mindfulness practice. An excellent way to start 2024 and navigate the inevitable trials of these lives and times!

In hindsight, I experienced a bit of the November blues. I slept a lot and had very little motivation. There also wasn't a job, kids, or deadlines to force me to function! There was no spark of creativity — for art, for crochet, or for this blog. But, finally, it came to me: a review of this blog project. I set out to write 52 blogs. That was ambitious! It was going well until the breast cancer diagnosis in March. That changed a lot of things for me.

There is a window between heart and heart: they are not separate like two bodies. The lamps are different, but the light is the same. — Rumi

Of all the things I’ve had to let go of, attending meditation retreats is the one I miss the most.