A rakusu (絡子) is a Japanese garment worn around the neck of Zen Buddhists who have taken the precepts (jp. jukai). To make a rakusu student uses 16 (or more) strips of cloth which are hand-sewn together into a brick-like pattern during their period of study for their jukai or ordination ceremony. Rakusu signifies both Priest and Lay Ordination.

I’m sitting in the warm, October sun outside of the zendo. It’s a day before the jukai ceremony, the second day of the sesshin1 and I still haven’t finished sewing my rakusu. It’s been 10 years since I started practicing Buddhism and I’ve been thinking about this day for a long time. Over the years I’ve listened mesmerised to friends, wiser and more experienced than myself, about the process of making a rakusu. I’ve imagined myself peacefully sewing, perhaps even finding my new thing I’m naturally really good at. Wouldn’t that be something?

The reality couldn't be further from the truth. I found the entire process infuriating. Impatience, the tediousness of stitching, and the fact that I’m really bad at it, all come bubbling up to the surface. My fingers are pricked by the needle, arms are aching from rounding my back and it’s all taking so bloody long!

I feel disappointed with myself. This is not what this process should feel like - I think to myself. 

Of course despite the resistance I carry on. I’m determined to finish it and be done with it. During the process, I dance between resistance and tiny (!) glimpses of mindfulness. 

On a sesshin, during a Dharma talk, my teacher Malcolm reminds us that anything can be an opportunity to practice. The truth is the process of sewing is the first resistance I had experienced in the last 10 years of practice. I like the silence. Buddhist Psychology makes perfect sense to me. Sitting on my bum, staring at the wall, it’s hard but it’s freeing. But sewing…. Sewing is tedious. 

I realise that despite my willingness to sit for many hours a day, my love for a sweaty gym workout, I challenge myself by choosing things that I unconsciously know I will be good at. We are onto something here - I hear Malcom’s voice in my head. When was the last time I continued with a practice, a hobby, a craft I didn’t enjoy? I truly can’t tell. At school perhaps. 

In the end, even though the process of making the rakusu wasn’t nearly what I hoped for (perhaps for the best) and I still have some pieces I have to sew together (I feel a heat in my body rising as I think about it) I feel a sense of gratitude for sticking with it.

Will I try sewing for fun in my spare time? I highly doubt it.

Was making the rakusu, one of the most stand out, insightful moments during the 10 year practice period? Most definitely.

Malcolm was right. Anything can be an opportunity to practice life as it is. 

 Deep bows go to my friend Will, who met with me once a week to help me with the sewing. Our evenings together, I will cherish forever.