Bankai's zen at practice this morning.
Unboring.
Tonight, tropical moisture wrapped in eerie wind; crickets reminisce.
Saturday, September 08, 2012
Friday, September 07, 2012
Take your time
We sat a spell in a room with the place Norman had lived his bodily life. Gone beyond, now, body left remaining, his wife and another sat with us as we sat with his passing.
Profound bow to once and always.
Time takes what nothing else wants-- formless presence.
Profound bow to once and always.
Time takes what nothing else wants-- formless presence.
Thursday, September 06, 2012
Presiding Old Ama
Love, ancient and true, present and new, be with us, and with our kin and kindred.
Amen!
Let the voters register and vote!
And may the best in man and woman see light and gaze with care on it!
Amen!
Let the voters register and vote!
And may the best in man and woman see light and gaze with care on it!
Wednesday, September 05, 2012
Tuesday, September 04, 2012
I don't know; you?
Divine Ground, vibrating breath.
The Vedas contain several creation hymns, some of which describe the universe as a great egg from which everything comes (Rig Veda 10:121). Other hymns describe it as the product of a grand architect (Rig Veda 10:82). In the creation hymn below, on a literal level, the author depicts the original state of the universe as a formless void of neither existence nor non-existence. Through heat, the one primordial existence arose. From this, desire emerged which, in turn, generated mind. The author concludes, though, that we can never know the exact process of creation since no one was around to witness it, including the gods. Even the highest divine creative force may or may not know how it all started.
Then there was neither the non-existent nor existent. There was no realm of air, no sky beyond it. What was concealed, and where? And what gave shelter? Was there any water of unfathomed depth?There was no death then, nor was there any immortality. There was no torch of day and night. There was that One, which breathed mindlessly by its own nature. But apart from it there was nothing whatsoever.First there was only darkness concealed in darkness. All was undiscriminated water. That One, existing in a formless void, was born by the great power of heat.After that, Desire arose in the beginning — desire, the primal seed and germ of Mind. Sages who searched with their heart discovered the existent’s kingship in the non-existent.Across this they extend their dividing line: what was above it then, and what below it? There were originators, and there were mighty forces. Free action was here and energy was up there.Who truly knows and who can here declare from where it was born and from where this creation comes? The gods came later than the production of this world. Who knows then from where it first came into being?He, the first origin of this creation, whether he formed it all or did not form it; whose eye controls this world in highest heaven, he truly knows it, or perhaps he does not know. [From the Rig Veda, 10:129]
http://www.utm.edu/staff/jfieser/vita/teaching/eastphil.htmExhalation; great stillness.
Monday, September 03, 2012
Sunday, September 02, 2012
Following itself
Maybe I live in 2032 and only seem to be living in 2012. Computer simulation will befuddle us all.
We read Elizabeth Johnson at Sunday Evening Practice. We consider the continuous, the cruciform, and the promise embedded in panentheistic divine reality.
I could be living in 564BCE and think I am in 12th century Assisi. Perhaps I am the 85th word of the Tao Te Ching imagining I am a phrase in William Carlos William's "Asphodel, That Greeny Flower."
I'm not now
Nor
Have I
Ever
Been certain
Of anything.
Wave and particle, wave and tide, wave and say goodbye -- it all befuddles.
Same river different country, same shoe different step, becoming is the novelty/vitality of consciousness.
Who do I say I am?
Don't ask.
I can't be trusted to know how to answer.
The chicken soup followed by peach blueberry cake was delicious.
Practice follows itself perfectly.
We read Elizabeth Johnson at Sunday Evening Practice. We consider the continuous, the cruciform, and the promise embedded in panentheistic divine reality.
I could be living in 564BCE and think I am in 12th century Assisi. Perhaps I am the 85th word of the Tao Te Ching imagining I am a phrase in William Carlos William's "Asphodel, That Greeny Flower."
I'm not now
Nor
Have I
Ever
Been certain
Of anything.
Wave and particle, wave and tide, wave and say goodbye -- it all befuddles.
Same river different country, same shoe different step, becoming is the novelty/vitality of consciousness.
Who do I say I am?
Don't ask.
I can't be trusted to know how to answer.
The chicken soup followed by peach blueberry cake was delicious.
Practice follows itself perfectly.
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