Arm’s Length

 If I walk into my room and have a disquieting feeling, I call it, “Being at Arm’s Length.”  Someone told me that.  Maybe the room itself is problematic, such as when it is dirty, too disarrayed for even me.  Well, then I can clean up and “arm’s length” might go away.  Maybe I see something plainly, as I enter the room, something I have been avoiding doing, a reminder pile that only gets taller, with dust.  Or maybe it is simply me.  My monastery cell is what I have.  I cannot simply move to another cell or room.  Unless something is obvious when I walk in, I try to sit quietly in the disquiet, seeing what “arm’s length” might want to teach me.  A sense of belonging may then to overcome the arm’s length feelings.  My thoughts may have to settle down from where I have just been and where I have been doing something else.  My room can be a window to my soul.  Quiet, stillness, can clear the window.  See.