The Wall is the Door

This weekend go to workshop led by Bhagavan Das. Das tells story of the man (no memory whatsoever name of man and internet searches on this topic extremely frustrating) who brought Buddhism to Tibet. Will call him First Rimpoche. First Rimpoche had very irritating assistant who everybody couldn't stand. One day, somebody had the courage to ask First Rimpoche why he kept the a-hole around. FR says, Oh him, he's my greatest teacher. He helps me practice how to love. After class am energized by story. Resolve to attempt to apply lesson to own life. This morning, dress in sweater and courdory coat, exactly perfect combination for brisky fall weather. First chance to try out new way of looking at world presents self on train. In tunnel between Brooklyn & Manhattan, very pale child leans off seat and pukes quietly on floor. Puddle small, but very, very smelly. Eyes water but stand ground despite mass exodus of fellow humans to other end of car. After about 2 minutes come to conclusion that am not violating spirit of teaching to move away from puke. Walking to work, revise position. See that change of position extremely self-serving. Ought to have helped kid out or at least offered word of sympathy to father, who held kid close to him but pretended that nobody had thrown up despite strong evidence to the contrary. Strike one against self, but am cheered to think that work will be own best teacher. In middle of morning, vice-boss, while grabbing for stapler on the Contessa's desk, knocks spider plant off Contessa's onto floor. Squints at plant and dirt on floor. Mutters, Strange. Walks toward office. Both the contessa and I frozen in chairs. Work study student Susan (wearing very sharp little outfit) says in shocked tone, Ms. Vice boss (although, naturally using her real last name) you can't just make a mess and then walk away. Feel extremely tense moment coming on. Instead, Vice-Boss crouches down and with bare hand scoops dirt from floor into pot. Does not seem mortified at all, but does decent job of cleaning up all by herself (am still paralyized, as is the contessa). Vice-boss plant on the Contessa's desk and says in approximation of sincerity, Sorry about that. Estimation of Susan rises.