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a story about opening our eyes

Long ago, sometime in the late 1970s, I listened to a talk by Zen student Stephen Mitchell. He later went on to be a prolific translator, but at the time he helped run the Cambridge (MA) Zen Center.

Even then, Mitchell was a scholar and heavy reader. He told us that his roshi had once ordered him to read nothing for a month, other than unavoidable things like street signs. It was, he said, one of the most painful things he ever did: he suffered actual physical withdrawal symptoms: agitation, sweats, shakes.

He did go back to reading but with (he said!) less attachment.

today, of course, the list of eye-grabbing entertainments that roshi might want to forbid is much longer. Despite my feeble efforts at containing media consumption, I wonder how I’d react. Would I shake and sweat after a week? Does the addiction go that deep?

This memory has come back to me as I try to reflect more on what it is to live wakefully and observantly. it coincided with my watching a wonderful documentary about life on Mount Athos that has prompted many of the same thoughts.