I have been running pretty consistently lately and also doing 40 to 60 minutes of Tai Chi and Chi Gong. Both of which feel really good to do. As a bonus there’s a good feeling that comes from a sense of accomplishment. When you’re feeling down and don’t want to do anything - above all Don’t Give In to that feeling. Go out and do something.

Although no one thinks they have any, everyone has the same amount of time in the day. Quit making excuses and just do it. No matter how much you don’t want to - do it.

While running the other day I was thinking about going back to the Zen Center. That got me to thinking about an experience I had several years ago when I was more regular in my spiritual practice.

When I attended the local Zen Center it was in a period of transition. People coming and going, everyone dealing with their own set of issues just like people do everywhere.

The brown recluse spiders had grown thick in the practice hall but it seemed like I was the only one bothered by them. I’d talked at length to the guiding teacher about putting traps or poison out for them but these are Buddhist and they’re not real keen on killing anything, poisonous or not. She said she would have to bring it up to the board members and see what they had to say.

Ah bureaucracy . . . somehow it struck me as odd to have Buddhist going through the Robert’s Rules of Order. I was used to martial arts dojos (training hall) that followed the Asian model, e.g. the sensei (teacher) was in charge of the school and whatever they said goes. The senseis I had would listen to their students but the final decision was theirs. I had mistakenly thought this would be the same.

When I would sit in the practice room it was difficult to not pay undue attention to the problem of poisonous spiders running amok. I’m not talking about an occasional spider showing up every other couple of weeks or months. It got to the point that every time I went (3 to 4 times a week) I would see them. They even issued warnings to be careful when we cleaned the room as the spiders were often lurking under the meditation cushions and in the storage areas. I kept thinking this is a little crazy. Would they do the same thing if it was another spider like black widows? Or how about snakes or rodents?

I was on the verge of deciding to just continue my practice on my own at home when they decided to put out sticky traps to catch them . . . much to the consternation of several members. I was amazed to see these traps soon overflowing with dozens of these spiders. We’re talking about a mound of spiders here. These traps are like mini La Brea tar pits in trapping whatever crawls into the goo, there they stay until they starve to death or struggle so much that they bury themselves.

Brown Recluse have been known to kill all the other insects in their area and then turn to cannibalism. My guess is that’s why the traps were full. They walked by what looked like a spider buffet and couldn’t resist. The remaining members complained about the cruel nature of the traps so that it wasn’t long before the decision was made to discontinue them and find someone who could offer a more humane and green method of killing.

Attendance at the Zen Center during the weekdays had dwindled from maybe 4 to 6 early risers like me, to just two of us. It would take two people to go through the morning ceremony; one to light the candles and incense & to strike the moktak (a simple wooden percussion instrument use to keep time) and the other to ring the bell for the Morning Bell Chant. This particular morning my fellow Dharma Bum would take care of the altar, incense, candles and moktak and I would ring the bell just like Johnny-B-Good.

The first order of business was the ‘great vow‘ and then the 108 bows. Standing behind my cushion we repeat the vows to ’save all beings’ when I noticed a spider making its way towards me. Jeez, what the hell is it? Is it my aftershave or the shampoo or soap I use? Why are they attracted to me? Or is it just my karma? Do they sense fear or weakness like a vicious dog and so move in for the kill?

Soon we’re doing the bows but all the while I keep an eye on the little crawling thing. When I go down to kneel on the cushion I find it’s easier to make a fist and keep my wrist locked as I support my weight temporarily moving to the kneeling position it also allows me a second more in which to look around me.

The spider starts and stops, moves towards me, then away a little, then back towards me. It reminds me of growing up with my older brother. He would make a quick gesture with his hand as though he was going to hit me, which he did on occasion, so it was quite natural for me to flinch at any sudden move.

This spider was messing with me.

It was somewhere around the 43 bow that it made its move and in a mad dash ran straight towards my cushion. I didn’t want to disturb the morning ritual even if it was just two of us. All I could do was watch. It stopped just short of my cushion like it was rethinking its route. 44, 45, 46th bow . . . it just stood still facing me.

If I could have seen its eyes I’m sure it would be making a spider version of the evil eye while it said, “My name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die!”

Then it sprinted under my cushion. What could I do? I did the only thing I could think of which was to estimate its approximate location under my cushion and during the next bow I made sure to press down firmly with my fist. Uugh . . . crunch. So much for the vow I just made.

My partner that morning appeared to be none-the-wiser as we finished up the bows and made our way to immersing ourselves in the bell chant. He took up his position just in front of and facing away from the altar. I sat down on a cushion a few feet to his right, facing towards the altar. I positioned the bell directly in front of me and prepared to start ringing. Unfortunately I was also just a foot or so away from the curtained storage area where my creepy friends liked to hang out. I kept a soft focus on that area so that I might notice any movement.

I loved ringing that bell. It was a large bronze one that hung from a thick wooden frame. In the Asian tradition it had no clapper inside of it but depended on being struck on the outside by a large wooden mallet/ringer that had one end covered in leather to slightly dampen the blow.

It’s hard to describe the sound of this bell other than to say its resonance was wonderfully penetrating. (In re-reading this post that sounded a little too sexual but that’s not what I meant.) In the early morning stillness the reverberating waaaaaaahhhhh of this bell would literally go right through you and fill the room.

Throughout the Morning Bell Chant there would be several times when you would strike the bell starting out slowly and lightly and then increasing in intensity until the room was filled with a wonderful vibration. There is something truly magical about feeling that kind of vibration. It’s very energizing and calming. Okay maybe there is a sexual component to spirituality.

Pay no attention to that spider behind the curtain!

We recited the the phonetic version of the Bell Chant so that we came close to the Korean pronunciation. For me it was kind of like a Latin Mass in adding to the mystery of the service. Since I was newer to the practice I had to read it out of a little booklet while my more experienced friend repeated it from memory with his eye’s half-closed. He looked like he was in the zone. This kept me from devoting my full attention to the curtained storage area.

pa ji-ok jin-on, na-mu a-tta shi-ji-nam sam-myak, sam-mot-ta gu-chi-nam, om a-ja-na ba-ba ji-ri ji-ri hum, na-mu a-tta shi-ji-nam sam-myak . . . .

If you wish to understand thoroughly, All Buddhas past, present, and future, You should view the nature of the universe, As created by mind alone . . .

It was somewhere in this part of the chant that a motion from the curtained area caught my attention. The ten minutes must have elapsed since I killed the other spider and his ‘back up’ decided it was time to move out & check up on him.

It crawled slowly but pretty much made a bee line towards me. All the time I’m hoping it will go away, crawl somewhere else. The dharma room is the size of a 2 car garage so there’s lots of crawling space. It’s not like there’s no other cushions to crawl under. Why not go towards my buddy with the moktak?

It’s on a mission and keeps heading towards me. I’m still just a-ringin’-a-bell wondering how much longer I can keep it up without loosing my place.

It brought to mind a film I saw in my youth about a guy on safari (the African hunting tour, not the browser) who was looking for a man-eater of a lion. When he finally found the huge beast it charged him out of the brush and he shot it dead when it was literally in the air jumping on him. When he got up he looked around for the locals who were carrying all of his equipment only to find they were all up in the surrounding trees after having thrown all his stuff to the ground.

There was no tree for me to climb up and even if there was I’m sure it would have crawled up after me. I was determined not to go down without a fight. As I’m sitting there wondering what to do, it keeps getting closer. How am I going to take care of this thing without disturbing the ritual? It’s closer still. I could almost here the music from West Side Story as the spider was flipping his little switchblade back and forth between its 8 legs.

I glance over at my dharma partner and he’s still in the Morning Bell Chant zone, eyes all but closed completely unaware of my peril. Finally this spider is about a foot away from me and I can see it’s fairly good-sized, about as big as a quarter. He’s not stopping and I’m still trying to not loose my place as I’m ringing the bell.

Soon we come to a slight pause in the bell ringing and I’m thinking, “Okay, this is it. Bring it on Mother F*cker!” and without missing a beat I turn the wooden mallet over so the flat, top part of it is facing down and I very mindfully squish it. Boom.

On the cushion a couple feet away from me, my friend opens his eyes a little, glances towards me with a knitted brow and a “What was that ‘thump’?” look on his face. I could almost see a little thought balloon over his head saying, “That’s not part of the chant.”

We finished up the Morning Bell Chant, changed our seating to different cushions facing the outside wall as we prepared to sit for 20 minutes of meditation. I’d no more gotten comfortable when I saw yet another spider lumbering down the polished hardwood towards me.

I got up, motioned to the spider and told my partner that I’d better leave before I made any more bad Karma. He had a slightly perplexed look on his face as he nodded ‘okay’.

He remained seated as I walked out the door.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, May 20th, 2008 at 4:18 pm and is filed under Zen, fear.