"Don't poop on my sheets!" the woman said.
"Tweet, trill, chirrup!" the bird sang.
"You're right. I can wash them again." And in that moment the woman knew she'd taken a giant step toward enlightenment. To celebrate, she threw the sheets to the ground, stomping and dancing on them as she sang at the top of her lungs a silly tune she'd learned as a child.
When she was at last exhausted and her sheets brown with dirt and green with grass stains, she looked up at the bird. It met her eyes, holding briefly on her gaze before flying off.
The woman gathered up the sheets and headed inside to wash them again. More enlightened or not, she knew the sheets were not going to wash themselves.
She was glad for the task.
# # #
Today's meditative writing eventually took the form of a koan. Or at least my attempt at one. I've been reading daily from The Hidden Lamp: Stories from Twenty-Five Centuries of Awakened Women, edited by Florence Caplow and Susan Moon (Wisdom Publications). I originally discovered the book and information about the authors via Natalie Goldberg's website listing of her 2018 Workshops. The three of them are hosting a weekend workshop I would dearly love to attend in September this year at the Upaya Institute and Zen Center in Sante Fe, New Mexico. While I probably won't be able to get away, I will continue to enjoy my daily dose of koans followed by the insights of modern-day women teachers.
