PlatKat.com

Spirituality
As I slowly become a Seattle resident, I decided that it’s time to find a good house o’ prayer. Last week, I found out about the Seattle Betsuin Buddhist Temple, semi-conveniently located in the International District. As if knowing my mission, the powers-that-be made yesterday extra warm and sunny for my long walk from 1st Ave to 14thish. After passing countless fruit stands, empty lots, and pho restaurants, I made my way into the unassuming brick building on Main Street (a misnomer, per usual).

A short, Japanese greeter in her early 50s handed me a hymnal and a xeroxed program. In perfect English, she asked if I would like an okesa, a traditional scarf for the hardcore folks. When I didn’t answer right away, she asked me if I was Buddhist.

This is such a touchy subject for me. Having read a fair amount of Buddhist literature and visited a half-dozen temples, I am clearly interested in the religion. However, I have made enough questionable life choices in the recent past that I decline to associate myself with any formal belief system so as not to discredit its followers in the eyes of the unindoctrinated. There must be a better way to answer the question, “Are you Buddhist?” than “Not really, but I love your work.”

I explained to her that I recently moved to the area and this was my first time in that particular Temple. She happily welcomed me and asked me to sign in as a new member. Also being hesitant to write my name and address anywhere due in part to the questionable life choices I mentioned above, I politely asked if I could wait until after the service. She led me to the sign-in sheet and encouraged me to write down my information, so I did.

The service at this temple was more like the Catholic masses from my younger days than any other temple I’ve been to. We sat in church pews, listened to a choir, and engaged in one very long chant. Although the format was a little different, the underlying belief systems and teachings were most reminiscent of the Nichiren group I roll with when I’m in Austin. These guys more heavily emphasize chanting than simple meditation like the Inconceivable Joy Temple (also in Austin) or the Tibet Center (New York). I’m okay with it and appreciate the community, but I can’t adopt that belief as my own.

Toward the end of the service, a reader stood at the podium and ticked off the announcements. Women’s group meeting, a pot-luck… “We appear to have a new member, Kat Taylor. Is she here?” he asked, looking around the congregation. I sheepishly stood, he said, “Welcome,” and everyone turned and clapped. I’m not ashamed to say that really made my day, applause following the sound of my own name… and all I did was show up!

When the service was over, I joined the pack making its way to the exit. I handed my hymnal and program back to the same greeter, who smiled at me with warm recognition.

I smiled back and said, “I see what you did there.”

Health
I wasn’t planning on it, but the gorgeous weather sent me on a long run… outside! I systematically tore through downtown, accepting each pedestrian traffic signal countdown as a personal challenge, until I made it to the waterfront. The sky was so clear, I could see the mountains across the Puget Sound. I locked my gaze on them as I jogged up the shore in my favorite running ensemble with my favorite music buzzing in my ears and April’s encouraging words still rolling around in my head.

To do this day justice here, I would need a picture or at least a thousand words, but I didn’t take any and I’m not big on weighty word counts, so this is all I got. Suffice it to say the day was so beautiful, and everything so clear, I thought I was having a heaven.

Every now and then, things line up so perfectly and everything is just right, and it puts one’s entire being at ease. All at the same time, the mind, body, and soul are at peace. In this moment, I believe it can be said that one is having a heaven. Nothing particularly special has to be happening in order to have a heaven. The few I’ve had involve simple activities like eating a meal or sitting at a computer. The important thing about having a heaven is the prolonged feeling of tranquility and being completely in the moment.

So I think I kind of had one. There were still a few things on my mind. Usually heaven doesn’t involve contemplating going to work for a few hours and/or doing laundry. But I came close, which is greater that I could have hoped for that day.

Cleanliness
I did end up doing laundry, and discovered my basket missing when I returned to the laundry room at the end of the wash cycle.

What the HELL?! cried my inner monologue. Who the hell would steal a fucking laundry basket?!

I put my clothes in the dryer and headed back to my apartment to pen a note. It went something like this:

To the person who took my laundry basket (1/13/08, 2pm):

I hope my laundry basket has served its purpose for whatever reason you took it. Now that you have used it, I would appreciate it if you would please put it back where you found it. If you can afford to pay rent here, you can certainly afford your own 10-dollar laundry basket from Target.

If you need another reason to return my basket (other than the fact that stealing is just WRONG), please know that I do not own a car. Therefore, buying a new basket entails walking to a store and transporting the new basket on foot back to my apartment. Why would you want to exponentially inconvenience someone you don’t even know?

Thanks in advance for your positive change in heart!

I returned to the laundry room and tacked my note to the bulletin board, expecting to see it there months later, possibly crumpled and defaced by some stupid kids.

When my drying cycle was done, I returned to the laundry room once more to find my note gone and my basket resting in the far corner of the room. Astonished, I picked up the basket and placed it on the table. And then I laughed.

Did this really just happen? My incessant banter, boasting undeniable directness with discreetly hostile undertones, scrawled on a page and posted for the scrutiny of the public actually accomplished something?

I couldn’t, and still can’t believe it. But I got my basket back so I am happy.

Mental Development
Rounding out my peaceful day, I read Being There by Jerzy Kosinski. To summarize briefly, it’s the snowball effect of politicians’ and media pundits’ brash assumptions wrapped in the palatable metaphor of nature. A similar experience to watching a long made-for-TV movie, I found this book a pleasant way to pass a Sunday afternoon/evening.