What does Maybe look like?

What practitioners might come to the Dharma hall if the venerable monk would sit on the cushion?

Day in and day out, the sun rises and the sun sets. We have come to know this and to rely upon it, incorporating it into our lives. These things that are predictable create the foundation for other decisions; we build upon what we know. But how many picnics have been scuttled by a 50% chance of rain?

When something--like the weather--becomes uncertain, we can suddenly find ourselves forced to reevaluate our situation. If we were truly committed to that picnic happening, we could schedule it in a bomb shelter--weather not withstanding. Alternatively, if it was actually time with family or friends that was important, we could find some way to do that, rain or shine. Still, we ultimately cannot guarantee the outcome. In spite of our best efforts, the picnic might not occur. The people might not show up. The people who do might not have fun. Who knows?

Today is Monday. Yesterday I heard the monk might show up in the afternoon; later I heard he showed up for a while in the evening.  I hear now that tomorrow he might come in the evening, but that it is more likely he will be here next week sometime. What is a practitioner to do?

Perhaps the storm cannot decide when faced with a 50% chance of a picnic...

When doubt is something in which we are certain, we weigh it like anything else. If you are clear in your own priorities, you will do what is right for you, perhaps knowing with certainty that you are precisely where you need to be, wherever that is.

Tomorrow, I expect to be here for the usual Aikido and Zen time from 6:30-8:00 p.m. How about you? Don't worry about the monk: I will guarantee that if Elijah happens to show up and take the seat we prepared for him, it's only to tell you that you have already arrived.