Habits of the heart

Last night I took refuge in the three gems: the Buddha, the dharma, and the sangha. This annual ritual that involves some chanting and tying a red knotted string around one's wrist is as formal as my meditation group gets. I debated whether to do this, decided I would attend the session regardless, then went through with it. Right now my reaction is "meh".

Don't get me wrong. I will continue my meditation practice and attend sangha when I can, maybe even take in a retreat sometime. It's the ritual that leaves me unmoved. Too churchy, I guess.

(An interesting aside: Attendance last night was up. The first meeting of the year attracted some peripheral members who are not on the mailing list and who don't attend often enough to know what was planned. They were nonplussed to say the least.)

In The Barn at the End of the World, author Mary Rose O'Reilley spends a month at Plum Village, where someone addresses her struggle with the precepts by describing them not as commandments, but as "habits of the spirit". She also defines the precepts differently, making them more resonant with her life. I've done the same:

• To the best of my ability, I will develop the habit of compassion for all life.
• To the best of my ability, I will develop the habit of contentment and sharing.
• To the best of my ability, I will develop the habit of responsibility in all relationships.
• To the best of my ability, I will develop the habit of listening mindfully and speaking kindly.
• To the best of my ability, I will develop the habit of health.

These "goals" don't meet the criteria of SMART (Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Relevant, Time-related). In fact, they are vague, loose, idealistic, cosmic, and open-ended. And that is okay. I know what they mean to me today; their intent may change with time and context. And that is okay, too.

Besides, the precepts are preferable to my usual resolutions of eat less, exercise more, and keep a cleaner house. And probably more achievable.