Saturday, January 28, 2006

Lloyd brought a book in 1912 donated to the Bangor Library on The Intellectual Life.

He said he likes coming to Poetry Tea & Literature on Saturdays.

What We Need Is Here
Geese appear high over us,
pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,
as in love or sleep, holds
them to their way, clear
in the ancient faith: what we need
is here. And we pray, not
for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart, and in eye,
clear. What we need is here.

(Poem by Wendell Berry)

There was some talk about names after readings.

No name is more interesting than the names we call ourselves.

The one we call "God" has no name.

And no address other than nameless presence.

Go ahead -- call on God.

Call again.

A Warning To My Readers
Do not think me gentle
because I speak in praise
of gentleness, or elegant
because I honor the grace
that keeps this world. I am
a man crude as any,
gross of speech, intolerant,
stubborn, angry, full
of fits and furies. That I
may have spoken well
at times, is not natural.
A wonder is what it is.

(Wendell Berry)

See first. Speak later, reluctantly.

Thursday, January 26, 2006

Fear is the monster blocking the threshold. Beyond it is what we cannot understand, what we cannot control.

The whole great canon of spiritual teachings spoken by Buddha are expedient means to point out the inherent enlightened nature of all people. Although the expedient means are many, in essence they teach of the Pure Land of mind and Amitabha of inherent nature. If mind is pure, then the buddha-land is pure. If reality-nature appears, then the buddha-body appears. This is precisely what the scriptural teachings mean.
- T'aego

The monster isn't real. Walk to it. Walk through it. Beyond it is the other side.

When you take them away, they will be nothing but a dream;
like the grass that sprouts in the morning:
in the morning it grows and flowers,
in the evening it withers and dries.

(from Psalm 90)

No need to fear the terrors of the night, nor the arrows that fly by day.

You cannot be concealed or contained.

Without fear. Beyond fear.

You are released.

Go on. Step.


Wednesday, January 25, 2006

When Paul saw he was not alone, everything he was -- just fell away.

To illuminate this mind is called being a buddha.
To speak of this mind is called the scriptural teachings.

- Anon

When he heard the voice asking him who he thought he was -- persecuting and torturing, he went blank with startling comprehension.

The most important thing of all to him, however, was that he knew himself to be loved by Christ.
(From a homily by Saint John Chrysostom, bishop)

There are no rotten men. Only rotten ideas followed by deluded minds.

Paul's war ended this day on that day on his way elsewhere..

Book a plane for George to Damascus.

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

Riding stationary cycle looking out dooryard window, reading seven threats to ethics, listening to Gregorian chant

When the master
Without a word raises his eyebrows
The posts and rafters
The cross beams and roof tree
Begin to smile
There is another place for conversing
Heart to heart
The full moon and the breeze
At the half-open window.

- Muso Soseki (1275-1351)

No masters hereabouts. Only dog and cat, man and woman, snow and topfen kuchen after kohlrabi on rice. Evening becomes night, dog barks at door, let in, settles in as we too will do. It is January. Winter.

Lord, I do not puff myself up or stare about,
or walk among the great or seek wonders beyond me.
Truly calm and quiet I have made my spirit:
quiet as a weaned child in its mother's arms --
like an infant is my soul.

(from Psalm 130)

At shop, mother and daughter attend "Maybe Zen, Maybe Not" conversation. Joanie's daughter is up from New Jersey. They're packing up to return there. Joanie looks tired.

There were over 23 people for Sunday dinner over shop in harbour room. They had turkey.

Tide came in. Tide went out. As does Tuesday.

Monday, January 23, 2006

Driving snowy roads to Bangor, to Lincoln, cars off road in ditch in morning skid, in evening skid, roads greased with white.

Like a broken gong
Be still, be silent.
Know the stillness of freedom
Where there is no more striving.

- Dhammapada

Silenzio was the sign in video on Francis of Assisi. The tone of the twenty five minute paean little pious, but nice.

Tonight, readying sleep, every fact only a fact. Every sight just that, Every moment merely a prayer of passing presence.

Snow slows. Returning home, noodles, feta cheese, grape tomatoes.

Safety for all.

Notturno! Silenzio!



Sunday, January 22, 2006

Who'd have guessed neither church nor state would inspire the world in its need?

Reality, in fact, is always something you couldn't have guessed. (C.S. Lewis)

Hard ground in dooryard. Cold air through barn. Fragrance from soup at practice climbs last step on stairs.

They will see the face of the Lord, and his name will be marked on their foreheads. There will be no more night: they will not need sunlight or lamp-light, because the Lord God himself will shine upon them. (Apocalypse 22:4-5)

Night quiets hillside. What light there is resides inside.

Up on.