Thursday, July 24, 2014
Wednesday, July 23, 2014
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
The Haiku and Poems of
A melancholy autumn wind
What can be done
Why do people
No one really knows
Many paths lead
If at the end of our journey
Rain, hail, snow and ice:
The ways of proclaiming
Cover your path
As Ikkyu does not think of his body
The vagaries of life,
If you break open the cherry tree,
To write something and leave it behind us,
Look at the cherry blossoms!
why is it all so beautiful this fake dream
this ink painting of wind
oh yes things exist like the echo when you yell
sin like a madman until you can't do anything else
fuck flattery success money
one long pure beautiful road of pain
mirror facing mirror
sick of it whatever it's called sick of the names
a well nobody dug filled with no water
oh green green willow wonderfully red flower
not two not one either
Ikkyu this body isn't yours I say to myself
nature's a killer I won't sing to it
suddenly nothing but grief
when I was forty-seven everybody came to see me
my monk friend has a weird endearing habit
even before trees rocks I was nothing
no nothing only those wintry crows
if there's nowhere to rest at the end
that stone Buddha deserves all the birdshit it gets
no words sitting alone night in my hut eyes closed hands open
the wise know nothing at all
melons eggplants rice rivers the sky
go down on your silly knees pray
I found my sparrow Sonrin dead one morning
I hate it I know it's nothing but I
When it blows,
Dimly for thirty years;
|a comprehensive list of Ikkyu publications, links and resources is available here|
The German shepherd gentle large goofy dog who lives with us could teach Ikkyu a thing or two about leaving faeces right in the middle of hiking trails.
I'll go rowing now, then, later, pay a man $1400 dollars to poke and prod my mouth with needle and scraper and drill.
I don't know.
Monday, July 21, 2014
The inmate suggested we read D.G Leahy. We will.
We will learn more about thinking.
Maybe we do not yet think. Perhaps things think us.
All has been consecrated.
The creatures in the forest know this,
The earth does, the seas do, the clouds know
as does the heart full of
Strange a priest would rob us of this
and then empower himself
with the ability
to make holy what
(--Poem by St Catherine of Siena, from ‘Love Poems From God’ by Daniel Ladinsky. )What I love about holiness is the suggestion we are not holy. Rather, what is holy finds its way through us with our permission.
We have so many tutors.
Sunday, July 20, 2014
Saturday, July 19, 2014
Nausea seeps through hole in space/time and turns my stomach.
1. Ithaca Voice / By Jeff Stein
Notable Anti-Drone Activist and Grandmother Sentenced to Prison for Photographing Protest. Grady Flores was sentenced to jail for violating an order of protection after being part of a demonstration against drones.
Ithaca, N.Y. — An Ithaca woman crossed the street and stood for a few minutes where she wasn’t supposed to stand. Then she crossed back to where it was OK to stand. Now she’s going to jail for a year.
(For background on the case, see yesterday’s story, “Criminal or martyr? Inside the political formation of Ithaca’s jailed grandmother.“)
There are plenty of reasons to deplore the excessive jail sentence that DeWitt Town Justice David S. Gideon handed down last week to Mary Anne Grady Flores, a 58-year-old grandmother of three.
Here are seven of them:
Editorial: Sentence against Ithaca drones protester is a farce and an outrageBy: THE ITHACA VOICE | http://ithacavoice.com/2014/07/editorial-sentence-ithaca-drones-protester-farce-outrage/2.
A 400-pound asthmatic Staten Island dad died Thursday after a cop put him in a chokehold and other officers appeared to slam his head against the sidewalk, video of the incident shows.“I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe!” Eric Garner, 43, repeatedly screamed after at least five NYPD officers took him down in front of a Tompkinsville beauty supply store when he balked at being handcuffed.Within moments Garner, a married father of six children with two grandchildren, stopped struggling and appeared to be unconscious as police called paramedics to the scene. An angry crowd gathered, some recording with smartphones.Read more: http://www.nydailynews.com/new-york/staten-island-man-dies-puts-choke-hold-article-1.1871486#ixzz37wSItkuM3.
The Palestinian death toll in Gaza during the war rose to 336, with more than 2,400 wounded, the Palestinian health ministry said. About 75 percent of the casualties have been civilians, according to the United Nations.
The Israeli military dropped leaflets urging residents of additional areas, including two crowded refugee camps, Al-Bureij and Al-Maghazi, to evacuate, raising alarms from the United Nations, which said that shelters were already overwhelmed and in danger of running out of supplies. More than 63,000 people have flocked to official shelters, a number that has tripled in two days, and many more have taken refuge with friends and family.
http://www.nytimes.com/2014/07/20/world/middleeast/gaza-israel.html?hp&action=click&pgtype=Homepage&version=LargeMediaHeadlineSum&module=span-ab-lede-package-region®ion=lede-package&WT.nav=lede-package&_r=0Someone sitting in the glow of Saturday night bonfire said life is not difficult once you learn how to live it in peace.
Then, through seamless black hole, the poison enters and I am stricken with unlearning nausea.
Friday, July 18, 2014
Barefoot I leave it.
My coming, my going
Two simple happenings
That got entangled.
Thursday, July 17, 2014
Woman we know currently in Maryland for another surgical procedure re-fusing sections of her spine.
She says she’s asked her doctor if things do not go well to put her in a coma until some corrective action could be taken.
We are driving back from Auburn. Route 17 opens to Appleton Ridge and farmland before Union under blue sky and billowing white clouds. We tell her on the call that Maine awaits her return. She is cheered.
I tell her I hope her doctor knows how to spell.
“Spell? she asks.
“Yes,” I say. "What if he puts you in a ‘comma’ in the middle of a sentence?”
Her surgery is Friday afternoon.
She is laughing.
Four children are blown up in Gaza.
Shame on those that hide behind military jargon and strategy rationalization.
As they played on and around a jetty in the late-afternoon sun, a blast hit a nearby shack. One boy was killed instantly. The others ran. There was a second blast, and three more bodies littered the sand. One was charred, missing a leg, and another lay motionless, his curly head intact, his legs splayed at unnatural angles.
The Israeli military acknowledged later that it had launched the strike, which it said was aimed at Hamas militants, and called the civilian deaths “a tragic outcome.”
The four dead boys came quickly to symbolize how the Israeli aerial assaults in Gaza are inevitably killing innocents in this crowded, impoverished sliver of land along the Mediterranean Sea. They stood out because they were inarguably blameless, children who simply wanted to play on their favorite beach, near the fishing port where their large extended family keeps its boats.
://www.nytimes.com/2014/07/17/world/middleeast/gaza-strip-beach-explosion-kills-children.html?contentCollection=world&action=click&module=NextInCollection®ion=Footer&pgtype=articleThe ugly enemy of life wanders through the eyes of those targeting the living with death.
There is no hope in the face of force, weaponry, and psychopathology.
In prison, CJ could be right: the God so many worship is quite possibly a psychopath.
These talmudic students continue their studies.
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
"So, the highest form of love or devotion is simply to abide as awarenes, knowingly. Any other sort of devotion would be the devotion af an imagined entity towards an imagined object."
(--Rupert Spira, p.127, Presence, The Intimacy of All Experience vol ll)
Tuesday, July 15, 2014
Monday, July 14, 2014
The Results of Practice | July 14, 2014
One becomes an ordinary person, but in an extraordinary way. Your words are still there, your hang-ups may still be there, you still have to deal with all your karmic baggage and so on, but you see it in a totally different light. You're at peace with yourself, at peace with the world. Not in a complacent sense, but in the sense that you can simply devote yourself to a life of compassion.
(--L.F. Habito, Other Fingers Pointing to the Moon, Tricycle Daily Dharma)
Sunday, July 13, 2014
Honor the journey.
Think of your religious tradition. Everyone has one. Ask yourself this question: If I had nothing to believe in, how would I live my life? Would “life” be enough? Or do we need something more, something else, something other, some place away, some other time -- in order to give our lives meaning?
Someone is dying. It’s all going away. Something is coming to its end.
What might be coming to an end is the religious traditions we all have in our histories.
Without them we are left with life that leads to (and through?) death.
Life, life itself, just might be the most significant spiritual journey, absent hope for something that might be after death. (Perhaps what is after death is life -- same as ever -- only seen clearly for the first time as what it really is.)
Make peace with life.
Live life with peace.
Honor the journey.
Saturday, July 12, 2014
Friday, July 11, 2014
Thursday, July 10, 2014
Wednesday, July 09, 2014
Tuesday, July 08, 2014
Monday, July 07, 2014
Sunday, July 06, 2014
Something odd has taken center stage. Personal interest in any professional sport, any personal news about any celebrity, or direct or oblique reference to body size, body part, or who’s doing what with whom -- is not the least bit interesting.
Center stage is empty.
Bodhidharma, the reading tonight said, didn’t go to China to bring zen or the Buddha. He went to find one person not deluded by people.
Since 6th century C.E. looking around for the non-deluded!
Saturday, July 05, 2014
Hear, O Israel! The Lord is our God, the Lord alone! Therefore, you shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength. Take to heart these words which I enjoin on you today. Drill them into your children. Speak of them at home and abroad, whether you are busy or at rest. (--from Compline, Saturday night)
Friday, July 04, 2014
How lovely the idea of shared responsibility for the world.
If this sounds like a lot of emotional tumult, it is. When we engage in a creativity recovery, we enter into a withdrawal process from life as we know it. Withdrawal is another way of saying detachment or nonattachment, which is emblematic of consistent work with any meditation practice.
We ourselves are the substance we withdraw to, not from, as we pull our overextended and misplaced creative energy back into our own core.
(--Julia Cameron, in The Artist's Way)How is it so few keep so many from it's realization?
Come and See, what I have done: I’ve given My only Son. He lived for you, and He died for you.Come and See.
Lamb of God, Lamb of God, have mercy on us, forgive us, Lord.
Come and See, what I have done: I’ve given My only Son.He lived for you, and He died for you.Come and See.
Creator of Love, source of all life, have mercy on us, forgive us Lord.Come and See, what I have done: I’ve given My only Son.He lived for you, and He died for you.Come and See.
Thursday, July 03, 2014
Let’s say we were going to contemplate listening.
No Going Back
No, no, there is no going back.
Less and less you are
that possibility you were.
More and more you have become
those lives and deaths
that have belonged to you.
You have become a sort of grave
containing much that was
and is no more in time, beloved
then, now, and always.
And so you have become a sort of tree
standing over a grave.
Now more than ever you can be
generous toward each day
that comes, young, to disappear
forever, and yet remain
unaging in the mind.
Every day you have less reason
not to give yourself away.
(~poem by Wendell Berry)Listening is good communication.
It’s not what you say --
it’s what you are listening