Hundreds of miles away, fiftieth reunion of High School graduation. Not been to any. Here, wood stove burns glowing orange.

Tall pines chant in the wind,
Rain falls lightly at dusk.
East Cloister is half-shut,
West Cloister is locked.
I walked through mountains all day
Yet met no people;
The perfume of wild plum blossoms
Fills my sleeves.
The resident monk laughs at me
For being so enamored of pure scenes.
He dislikes the remoteness of mountains,
But he cannot leave.
Though I love the mountains,
I, too, laugh at myself.
Solitary withdrawal harms the spirit,
It would be hard to carry on.
How much nicer, on West lake,
To drink fine wine,
The scents of red apricots and green peaches
Filling the hair.

- Su Shi (1037-1101)

I am satisfied with jar of water.

Rowing around Curtis Island with Rokie in bow and Saskia in 2nd rowing station, we navigate chop and trough from southwest wind.

At morning Buddhist meditation practice we read after sitting then Heart Sutre the chapter by Shunryu Suzuki on Bluejay song in commentary on Sandokai.

My face hurts in the changing season.

Even so, everything is as it is.

And all's well.

Stephen and Ondrea Levine show presence with one another.

A person who has no body has a large body. He who has no mind has a large mind. With a large mind comes a wisdom that covers all myriad things. With a large body he can respond and react without end. So it is that someone who holds onto his body as his own loses this great responsiveness, and one who holds onto his mind as his own loses this great knowledge. That is why all the sutras and treatises teach that one must take leave of the body and mind and break free of all holding and attachment before entering into what is true and real.
- Taisho Tripitaka

In prison today conversation with a dozen men in two places.

That’s all, just conversation.

With fellow beings.

Ishiguro's film "Never Let Me Go" breaks ethical mind and sympathetic heart.

Winding back and forth
Among green trees
The golden shuttle
Of the oriole
Weaves silk
The color of spring.
A monk sits
Dozing…
Even the stones smile
- Kusan Sunim (1909-1983)

Pragmatists and Utilitarians exit here.

Existentialists sip coffee thoughtfully.

Each must tell of themselves.

Each of Itself.

Sluggish.

Go straight to the empty and free and vast, with no pondering what to think. The previous thought is already extinct, the following thought does not arise, the present thought is itself empty.
- T’aego

The weariness of traveling nowhere.

The United States Government threatens to shut down.

Something silly is going on.

Wu Mountain's person of the Way
Has a mind like water,
With eyes clear, so free from dust
There's none to sweep away.
That's why he can lodge powerful emotions
In marvelous phrases,
Using this leveling device,
To test old East Slope.
- Su Shi (1037-1101

I wonder if the folks on the right think that war, starvation, global weather crisis, poverty, health uncare, and diminishing work opportunities are second fiddle to their pet projects and personal morality priorities?

Here’s what I think: Some people are unwilling to come to earth and live here as human beings. They want to be designees of some idealized God-projected mandate. Some other people are unwilling to be at home on earth and are constantly trying to step-off into some wish-fulfilling heaven away from here. Neither of the two groups are to be trusted. They are not of earth.

The great myth of Christianity is that Jesus embodied God and came to earth by becoming human.

What is it that Christians do not understand?

As for the rest of us? Do we remember the words: “Thy will be done, on earth. As it is..."?

Let the will of Love be accomplished on earth!

Forget all the 'other' stuff.

Think no-other.

Friend...please

Arrive here

Where the rest of us are.

Guest makes delicious soup.

Hospice and Spirituality with new volunteers today.

UConn wins over Butler in NCAA final.

Heart is a quieter mind.

To be unstained in all environments is called no thought…If you stop thinking of myriad things, and cast aside all thoughts, as soon as one instant of thought is cut off, you will be reborn in another realm…The Dharma of no-thought means: even though you see all things, you do not attach to them, but, always keeping your own nature pure, cause the six thieves (the fields of the senses) to exist through the six gates. Even though you are in the midst of the six dusts, you do not stand apart from them, yet are not stained by them, and are free to come and go.
- The Platform Sutra

We're only here for a short time. Then, we pass through the unknown and might be here differently forever. Who knows?

We are in this world with one another.

What else is there to note?

Use two feet.

Stand up.

Enter this world.

Hospice is a mom-n-pop vocation. (That is: merely open mind - nears - presenting open presence)

Hospice practice involves your being ma & pa. (That is: merely alone & patiently aware.)

These acronyms are thoughts that visit during Quaker Meeting this morning, and at tea and toast afterward with help from a Friend.

Brother, I’ve seen some

BY KABIR

Brother, I’ve seen some
Astonishing sights:
A lion keeping watch
Over pasturing cows;
A mother delivered
After her son was;
A guru prostrated
Before his disciple;
Fish spawning
On treetops;
A cat carrying away
A dog;
A gunny-sack
Driving a bullock-cart;
A buffalo going out to graze,
Sitting on a horse;
A tree with its branches in the earth,
Its roots in the sky;
A tree with flowering roots.

This verse, says Kabir,
Is your key to the universe.
If you can figure it out.

TRANSLATED FROM THE HINDI BY ARVIND KRISHNA MEHROTRA
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/archive/poem.html?id=241222

Comment:

Many of the bhakti poets came from the bottom of the Hindu caste ladder. Among them you find a cobbler, a tailor, a barber, a boatman, a weaver. One, Janabai (see epigraph to “Chewing slowly”), was a maidservant. They wrote in the vernaculars (Tamil, Telugu, Kannada, Marathi, Gujarati) rather than in Sanskrit, the language of the gods and the preserve of Brahmins. Occasionally, eschewing his abrupt debunking manner, Kabir speaks in riddles. These enigmatic poems (see “Brother I’ve seen some” and “How do you”) are called ulatbamsi or “poems in upside-down language,” in which the intention seems to be to force the reader (or listener) into new ways of thinking and seeing. They each end in a revelation, though exactly what has been revealed is open to question. http://www.poetryfoundation.org/archive/poemcomment.html?id=241222

I like being open to question.

As

Being

Open

Is,

As it is,

An ulatbamsi gift