by Brenda Proudfoot
The day we learned we would no longer practice Zazen in the Zendo, instead, we would each practice in our rooms using zoom, the tears came. My heart broke a little that day. Practicing Zazen in the beautiful Zendo here was central to my decision to come. I love the morning Noble Silence as residents enter the Zendo and find each one’s seat. I love walking to the Buddha Hall for service and the forms of entering and leaving the tatami. Suddenly, it all changed and I grieved that change deeply. I suddenly understood in a new way, how very precious these things are to me.
Several weeks later, I began doing service in my room. It is not the same. It has however, begun to take on its own beauty, a beauty different from the beauty of service in the Buddha Hall with the community. It is not a replacement but it is a way of sustaining one’s practice through the pandemic Practice Period, a practice period with no defined ending. It is a different perspective.
During our first month of pandemic practice, I began to photograph shadows Photographing shadows has been a portal to a whole new world of seeing, a different perspective.
One might wake up, see the sun shining, and think, “oh, what a pretty day”. Recently when I wake up and see the sun shining, I think, “oh, a good day for shadows”.
Shadows change constantly. One moment it is there, the next it may not be, or it may have moved, or changed intensity and form, as the source of light changes. In my search for shadows to photograph, I see differently. I notice things I never might have seen while walking the same street or living in the same building.
I am intrigued, like a good Buddhist student, by form and emptiness. Shadows seem to be form but they are not. They are light that has been blocked by form. When the light goes away, they cease to exist. They are empty. They move in the wind. They change depending on the surface behind them.
Experientially, photographing – and therefore noticing and thinking about shadows – opens me to change with a lighter spirit. Sheltering in place is not an easy time. It is uncertain. It can feel isolating to live in a community while keeping social distance. Eating in silence during meals in the dining room and wearing masks all the time is hard. Practicing together through zoom helps ease the isolation and continues to be strange. Emotions of grief, sadness, resistance and fear can surface unexpectedly along with moments of laughter and delight in something someone does or says.
As so many of our teachers have articulated in so many different ways, this is the practice. I can think of no better place to be during this pandemic than the San Francisco Zen Center.
About the Author: Brenda Proudfoot joined the City Center residential community in December 2019 as a Work Practice Apprentice. Prior to coming to San Francisco Zen Center, she spent three years as a resident and retreat manager at Tara Mandala, a Tibetan center in Colorado. Brenda was the founder and owner of Valley Yoga, a yoga studio in central California, for sixteen years. During that time, her way-seeking mind set her on the Buddhist path. She has had a daily meditation practice for twenty years.
3 thoughts on “Shadows and Pandemic Practice”
ah! sol brilhando
nenhuma nuvem no céu
bom dia para sombras
Nesse ela entregou o verso já!
Posso compartilhar com uma foto no meu instagram?
Oi Gustavo, pode sim, agora eu vi que ela entregou mas vc fez o verso, vou ver ainda se ela tem instagram, que seria legal marcá-la.
And Gustavo Morita found a Haiku from Brenda’s words:
oh! the sun shining,
no clouds in the sky
good day for shadows