Growing Ground | Tricycle: "MAKING COMPOST WAS just one more thing I loathed during my first winter here, including waking up hours before sunrise; taking care of all my personal business in a series of pitifully small breaks; and not wearing socks, blowing my leaky nose, or even so much as twitching a limb in the meditation hall (although you’re free to burp and fart). The environment at our Zen center is simple, strict, and clear: it’s the perfect mirror for your condition, constantly throwing you back at yourself. Any color or personality, any fullness of self, stands out in stark contrast to this blank backdrop of black robes, identical mudras, and impersonal rules. Deprived of your comfort zone, you hammer inward. You see exactly what you are; all your shit comes up."
'via Blog this'
