On My Watch

by Wynn Martin, from the Jade Buddah newsletter, January/Februrary 2002.

Rather than merely accept my shortcomings, I am committed to doing
something about them. To that end, I decided a few months ago that I
needed to impose more discipline upon my schedule, and improve my
productivity at work and in my personal pursuits. One of the ways
that I’ve done that is to begin exercising regularly; I signed up for
a karate class, to build my strength and fitness. I carefully chose a
school that does not practice fighting or engage in any competition,
and instead focuses on physical and mental well-being. It is almost
like an aerobics class, except that the development of new skills
with practice lends a sense of ongoing accomplishment to the
participants. I feel motivated to attend each class, and to commit
myself constructively to practice.

One night I met a friend after karate to join him for a musical
performance. I was surprised to discover, at the show, that I had not
put on my wristwatch after showering. Normally, as I leave my home, I
check several things routinely: my watch, keys, wallet, cell phone
(during the day), and my Rice ring. I feel a bit naked, if any one of
those things is missing. I check again whenever I get out of my car,
particularly to be sure I have my keys before locking the doors. So,
I was surprised to find that I’d somehow left without my watch I
finally decided I must have left it at karate practice.

Until about five years ago, I had worn cheap, digital watches, and
was not concerned with their appearance as much as their function.
Then, my mother bought me a very nice, rather expensive watch. Mom
suggested that I wear it on special occasions. I thought about it,
and told her later that wearing the watch would remind me that every
day is special. So, that watch became a beautiful part of my life.
Each time I put it on, or whenever someone had something nice to say
about it, I thought of my mother, and remembered to find the beauty
inherent in the moment, in every day.

And suddenly, it was gone. I waited patiently for two days, with the
expectation that I would find it again at my next lesson. I would be
inconvenienced for two days, but the real challenge would be to avoid
suffering from attachment to this coveted, physical object.

My watch was not in the office on Thursday, and for the first time, a
small feeling of deep loss threatened to encroach upon my spirit,
where hope and confidence had prevailed for two days. With that loss
could come humility, embarrassment, and a feeling of having
disappointed my mother, and myself. But I saw that risk, and I chose
to embrace a lesson, rather than that suffering.

One of the basic concepts at the foundation of Buddhism is the idea
that we can liberate ourselves from suffering, by applying
mindfulness, and embracing constructive thought and action. I try to
live every day in this spirit of the dharma. Sometimes, we feel like
we need lessons, teachers, and tools to help us on this journey, but
I like to look back and recall that the enlightenment at the
foundation of our faith came about just by sitting beneath a tree,
and thinking. We need only have an open mind, a pure heart, and our
determination.

So, I chose not to suffer over the loss of that object, and instead
let it go on being a tool of mindfulness. It was a lapse of
mindfulness that let me misplace it, so that would be my first
lesson, and a reminder to me. Each time I leave my home or lock my
car, I still touch my wrist reflexively, to confirm that the watch is
there... and it is not. But rather than wince in embarrassment, I
smile. I am reminded to be mindful. I am also reminded that the day
is special, and that I should look around me to find the beauty in
the day. I am reminded not to let attachment, or suffering, prevail
on my watch.

I found the wristwatch today, just an hour ago, in my laundry, and it
almost made me laugh. Curiously, I was almost sorry to see it again,
because this week without it has been so constructive for me. I
decided I could not let the experience be diluted by my rediscovery
of this simple object, and needed to share it with my sangha, and my
family. Some of these lessons are simple... to be mindful, and to
avoid attachment, for instance. But the most important lesson here, I
think, is even more fundamental than those: liberation from suffering
is possible, and is merely up to us. If it can be discovered beneath
a tree, it can be found in our daily lives, too... by appreciating
the beauty inherent in every day, and even by remembering what we
have lost, with a smile.