![]() ![]() I’ve been minding my own mind on the cushion for five days, but now I have a job. ![]() It is my first weeklong dai- sesshin retreat. His warm blue eyes are a good place for your own eyes to land when you’re anxiously glancing to and fro. He looks up at me from under vintage wire-rim glasses. ![]() In my first memory of Daishin, he is on his knees, tucking the top kimono part of my disheveled student robes into the bottom hakama part. Let’s just say the whole book was inspired by a true story-as if there were such a thing.” They are the fever dream of a man wrestling with his memory, his teacher, his lovers, his peers, and himself. The stories told are not a record of objective reality. (I rarely use real names excerpt for pets.) I call this genre personal mythology. As the author writes in the introduction of his book, Single White Monk , “ This book is a collision of journal entries, reportage, creative misremembering, and fictional devices including compressed and invented events and characters. In the following story, some of the details have been changed. ![]()
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