Zen practice isn’t about a special place or a special peace or something other than being with our life just as it is. It’s one of the hardest things for people to get: that my very difficulties in this very moment are the perfection. “What do you mean, they’re the perfection? I’m gong to practice and get rid of them!” No, we don’t have to get rid of them, but we must see their nature. The structure becomes thinner (or seems thinner); it gets lighter and occasionally we may crack a hole right through it.
Joko Beck, Everyday Zen p. 138
Acceptance is hard. For me it is a daily struggle. Last night was rough. More to follow in the next post.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Monday, September 5, 2011
Another Summer has Come and Gone
Monday, September 05, 2011
Labor Day in Michigan is like hand reaching out to a wall mounted light switch and flipping the switch down. Labor Day clicks off to summer invariably. Looking upward and to the west the sky is grey. Today the temperature will struggle to be in the sixties. Many days will follow like this.
As I took about a 40 minute walk through the town, empty now with those celebrating the holiday gone to points north, there were trees that had gone from green to red. So quickly the color will fill in the rest of what is green in the picture now with yellow and orange and dusky shades of brown. One day not too far off those colors will be gone and the trees will be bare. There may be a couple of warm days between now and mid-October but the switch has been flipped.
Journeys to apple orchards and hockey rinks await. The transition of clothing is coming too. First will be the hooded fleeced shells and light denim jackets. Next there will be the addition of a down vest to the ensemble. Shortly thereafter will come the use of gloves and hats. As early November rolls in the bulkier coats will come out of the closet. I joke not. Halloween is always a dicey proposition with the gear ranging from costume alone to full winter jacket over the clown outfit. Sleet, snow or Indian summer; October 31 can be any and all of these things.
Summer has vanished like a quick afternoon.
All the months of my life are now like fleeting hours. Just a moment ago I turned to do a few simple tasks and when I turned back from my work my life has flown by.
Labor Day in Michigan is like hand reaching out to a wall mounted light switch and flipping the switch down. Labor Day clicks off to summer invariably. Looking upward and to the west the sky is grey. Today the temperature will struggle to be in the sixties. Many days will follow like this.
As I took about a 40 minute walk through the town, empty now with those celebrating the holiday gone to points north, there were trees that had gone from green to red. So quickly the color will fill in the rest of what is green in the picture now with yellow and orange and dusky shades of brown. One day not too far off those colors will be gone and the trees will be bare. There may be a couple of warm days between now and mid-October but the switch has been flipped.
Journeys to apple orchards and hockey rinks await. The transition of clothing is coming too. First will be the hooded fleeced shells and light denim jackets. Next there will be the addition of a down vest to the ensemble. Shortly thereafter will come the use of gloves and hats. As early November rolls in the bulkier coats will come out of the closet. I joke not. Halloween is always a dicey proposition with the gear ranging from costume alone to full winter jacket over the clown outfit. Sleet, snow or Indian summer; October 31 can be any and all of these things.
Summer has vanished like a quick afternoon.
All the months of my life are now like fleeting hours. Just a moment ago I turned to do a few simple tasks and when I turned back from my work my life has flown by.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Can't Sell You No Beer
The weekend flew by. On Friday night there was a high school football game for my community. Both my children are now in high school. Secundus is in the band. His membership in this organization has motivated my attendance at the mini war. Our team won. Under the lights last Friday it was a great moment for the blue and white colors of the uniforms. We beat the read and black (I think).
During the time I was at the game I spoke to about thirty people. I saw the head of the school district, the principal, the vice principal, the dean of students, the head of the band boosters, the school districts bond counsel, a former client from my days in private practice, the athletic director, another former client, a political activist I worked with on John Kerry’s campaign and a fellow school board member. As you might guess I did not really see the game.
3/4ths of my time was spent talking about the need for/how to get money to build the school new buildings. Some of the time was spent talking about band events like the party afterward. Secundus went. He loved it. Some of the time was spent on the fact that the thug who was long term suspended last use for a interaction with a law enforcement officer and who was banned from school activities was present. Most of the time I found myself talking to any person that took a moment to grab my arm and bend my ear.
It was a great thing, okay a good thing that our laundry prevailed this time. But it is in moments like these that you figure out how small a world it is. My first old client was at the game because he played college football with the coach of our team. The bond counsel was at the game because her daughter plays in the band with my son. The same was true of the second old client. The political activist is married to the bond counsel. Etc, etc.
There is an old song by James McMurtry called small town and the lyrics are apropos.
During the time I was at the game I spoke to about thirty people. I saw the head of the school district, the principal, the vice principal, the dean of students, the head of the band boosters, the school districts bond counsel, a former client from my days in private practice, the athletic director, another former client, a political activist I worked with on John Kerry’s campaign and a fellow school board member. As you might guess I did not really see the game.
3/4ths of my time was spent talking about the need for/how to get money to build the school new buildings. Some of the time was spent talking about band events like the party afterward. Secundus went. He loved it. Some of the time was spent on the fact that the thug who was long term suspended last use for a interaction with a law enforcement officer and who was banned from school activities was present. Most of the time I found myself talking to any person that took a moment to grab my arm and bend my ear.
It was a great thing, okay a good thing that our laundry prevailed this time. But it is in moments like these that you figure out how small a world it is. My first old client was at the game because he played college football with the coach of our team. The bond counsel was at the game because her daughter plays in the band with my son. The same was true of the second old client. The political activist is married to the bond counsel. Etc, etc.
There is an old song by James McMurtry called small town and the lyrics are apropos.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Blue Sky Meditation
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
What do I need is the question Thomas Merton asked of me this morning as I picked up his book instead of the Zen one. A simple question this one like the questions of most sincere seekers has no ready pat answer. The question was posed on a beautiful Kentucky morning as the monk wrote in his personal journal.
Merton’s answer, at least on that day as he wrote long hand into his moleskin or spiral bound there in his hermitage was, “If necessary I can get by with plenty of mornings like this. Seriously, I need silence, though and solitude to enter into myself and see and touch reality, to live a contemplative life.”
I can agree with some of what he has said. The air today right now is 63 degrees F, the air is pale blue and absolutely free of clouds and there is no humidity anywhere. As I look up I am filled with the thoughts I had as a young boy thinking of travelling great distances in spaceships and of kite flying and of going swimming to “waste’ an afternoon. I can get by with a morning like this. It is not enough my spirit wants something more but there is value to being here/being now in a day like this. We don’t get many like this in our lives now do we?
Staring into the pale blue morning sky is a Zen meditation in itself. It is also a prayer to an almighty God in his goodness giving thanks for all this is right with this world. It is an act of openness to possibilities that lie outside of my self.
One of my struggles with Merton is a thin line that I think exists in the realms of those who would live apart from the “world”. It is the divide between solitude to clear away the clutter of the world and allow us to focus on the core essential aspects of being or of the divine and solitude that becomes self absorption taken to its ultimate narcissistic conclusion. Don’t get me wrong I don’t think Merton crossed that line but pulling back from the world can easily result in the world becoming the boundaries of your own ego.
Like Merton I want solitude so that I may have a time to meditate, to think about the broader aspects of life and its meaning. I must guard against misdirection and complacency. I don’t want those times I find solitude to create my own little world. Sitting on a stoop, surrounded by a cacophony of sounds, staring into a blue sky with an open soul beats sitting on a mat in a dimly lit room where I am trying to clear my mind but instead refocusing again on me and my issues.
What do I need is the question Thomas Merton asked of me this morning as I picked up his book instead of the Zen one. A simple question this one like the questions of most sincere seekers has no ready pat answer. The question was posed on a beautiful Kentucky morning as the monk wrote in his personal journal.
Merton’s answer, at least on that day as he wrote long hand into his moleskin or spiral bound there in his hermitage was, “If necessary I can get by with plenty of mornings like this. Seriously, I need silence, though and solitude to enter into myself and see and touch reality, to live a contemplative life.”
I can agree with some of what he has said. The air today right now is 63 degrees F, the air is pale blue and absolutely free of clouds and there is no humidity anywhere. As I look up I am filled with the thoughts I had as a young boy thinking of travelling great distances in spaceships and of kite flying and of going swimming to “waste’ an afternoon. I can get by with a morning like this. It is not enough my spirit wants something more but there is value to being here/being now in a day like this. We don’t get many like this in our lives now do we?
Staring into the pale blue morning sky is a Zen meditation in itself. It is also a prayer to an almighty God in his goodness giving thanks for all this is right with this world. It is an act of openness to possibilities that lie outside of my self.
One of my struggles with Merton is a thin line that I think exists in the realms of those who would live apart from the “world”. It is the divide between solitude to clear away the clutter of the world and allow us to focus on the core essential aspects of being or of the divine and solitude that becomes self absorption taken to its ultimate narcissistic conclusion. Don’t get me wrong I don’t think Merton crossed that line but pulling back from the world can easily result in the world becoming the boundaries of your own ego.
Like Merton I want solitude so that I may have a time to meditate, to think about the broader aspects of life and its meaning. I must guard against misdirection and complacency. I don’t want those times I find solitude to create my own little world. Sitting on a stoop, surrounded by a cacophony of sounds, staring into a blue sky with an open soul beats sitting on a mat in a dimly lit room where I am trying to clear my mind but instead refocusing again on me and my issues.
Monday, August 8, 2011
Monday, August 08, 2011
No illusion, no deception, I remain aware of all the wrongs I have done. In moments of meditation all my masks must fall away with a noisy clattering sound. These masks are of odd material some hard some pliable but all have been constructed with years and years of choices. As a result of the accretion of poor choices made over time they have become quite heavy.
It is in the solitude of meditation that I strip away the masks, the grinding burdensome weight of the years. Silence alone with your soul does not tolerate lies. Quiet contemplation is akin to walking with a pebble in you shoe. You cannot countenance the irritant long and so it must be cast out. You stop, you consciously search for what is wrong and then you throw the pebble away. To take a few moments each day to sit quietly emptying your mind is to cast out the pebbles that stop us from being fully empowered, fully away, fully in acceptance.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
No Coffee for You!!!
After some chest pain the other week I went and saw my cardiologist. My bike and I had trouble getting up a hill. The quack and I talked and he told me that the chances were that it was not my heart. However once you are in a doctor’s office you will not leave without a test. We did a stress test, well actually two one without isotopes and the other with. Afterwards he okayed me to travel and do all the normal stuff.
As has often been the case when I visit my cardiologist I was read the riot act regarding caffeine. “G Manitou” he said with impatience, “You have got to cut the caffeine out totally”. Urggh I thought. Caffeine is my life blood. I am not a coffee drinker mind you but I have since about 10 years old consumed copious amounts of ice tea. Urggh I thought. Ice tea equates to the happy days of my youth as much as Tastykakes and cheesesteaks did.
Right now I am at two weeks without caffeine. I am making do with drinking dirty brown water in the form of either decaf ice tea (it I make it at home) or decaf McDonald’s coffee (once a day). At least the smell awakens memories.
It is only when you fall outside the norm you see the existing paradigm. As the Manitou family travelled last week I discovered how hard it was to find decaffeinated beverages. Once you are below the mid-point in Indiana it is impossible. America is addicted to this common stimulant to the degree we don’t even converse about it anymore. Opting to not drink caffeinated products is like making a choice to ride a bicycle to work or to wear only union made/American made clothing. You pretty much stand out as a freak.
On the road you have 20 or more choices of caffeine based products. Coke, Pepsi, diet colas, energy drinks with beastly sounding name cram the walk in coolers. If you want something else you have two or three choices at maximum, Sprite (or its variant produced by Pepsi or the local bottler), highly sugared sweet soda pop like orange or plastic bottles filled with water. I don’t need the calories of Sprite, I don’t like fruity drinks and I don’t want to add to the land fills so I don’t buy bottled water. Most of the time I went without a beverage to quench my thirst on those long ride segments.
One good thing that has come of it is that I am sleeping better. Without question when my head hits the pillow I am ready to take my rest. Also I am hitting the sack earlier. When you hit that wall of tiredness at 10:30 I have no reserves and so I just hand the day on the nail and pack it in.
In the long run I will probably be better for this. But for right now I miss my caffeine.
As has often been the case when I visit my cardiologist I was read the riot act regarding caffeine. “G Manitou” he said with impatience, “You have got to cut the caffeine out totally”. Urggh I thought. Caffeine is my life blood. I am not a coffee drinker mind you but I have since about 10 years old consumed copious amounts of ice tea. Urggh I thought. Ice tea equates to the happy days of my youth as much as Tastykakes and cheesesteaks did.
Right now I am at two weeks without caffeine. I am making do with drinking dirty brown water in the form of either decaf ice tea (it I make it at home) or decaf McDonald’s coffee (once a day). At least the smell awakens memories.
It is only when you fall outside the norm you see the existing paradigm. As the Manitou family travelled last week I discovered how hard it was to find decaffeinated beverages. Once you are below the mid-point in Indiana it is impossible. America is addicted to this common stimulant to the degree we don’t even converse about it anymore. Opting to not drink caffeinated products is like making a choice to ride a bicycle to work or to wear only union made/American made clothing. You pretty much stand out as a freak.
On the road you have 20 or more choices of caffeine based products. Coke, Pepsi, diet colas, energy drinks with beastly sounding name cram the walk in coolers. If you want something else you have two or three choices at maximum, Sprite (or its variant produced by Pepsi or the local bottler), highly sugared sweet soda pop like orange or plastic bottles filled with water. I don’t need the calories of Sprite, I don’t like fruity drinks and I don’t want to add to the land fills so I don’t buy bottled water. Most of the time I went without a beverage to quench my thirst on those long ride segments.
One good thing that has come of it is that I am sleeping better. Without question when my head hits the pillow I am ready to take my rest. Also I am hitting the sack earlier. When you hit that wall of tiredness at 10:30 I have no reserves and so I just hand the day on the nail and pack it in.
In the long run I will probably be better for this. But for right now I miss my caffeine.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
On a Hot Morning a Search for the Good
Blazing hot stuffy air, barely moved by a little breeze…
Meadowlark sitting quietly on a fence post in the dawn sun, his gold vest bright in the light of the east, his black bib tidy is turning his head this way, that way. This is Zen quietness without comment.
Thomas Merton
On those mornings that I do not read something spiritual I find myself lost during the course of the day. It need not be a holy text but it must be focused on something beyond the day to day demands that our urgent world places upon us. Thoughts about meaning and value or simply directions to practice zazen that is silent meditation these prepare me for those challenges I will see in any given cycle at the office.
Prayer, meditation and ritual all faiths seem to involve one of these. Many a person without faith has ritual. A morning stroll for a paper and coffee or an evening beer on the back porch these can be as important as a vespers service. Maybe we are hard wired for this stuff. Maybe it is something we need intrinsically.
Meadowlark sitting quietly on a fence post in the dawn sun, his gold vest bright in the light of the east, his black bib tidy is turning his head this way, that way. This is Zen quietness without comment.
Thomas Merton
On those mornings that I do not read something spiritual I find myself lost during the course of the day. It need not be a holy text but it must be focused on something beyond the day to day demands that our urgent world places upon us. Thoughts about meaning and value or simply directions to practice zazen that is silent meditation these prepare me for those challenges I will see in any given cycle at the office.
Prayer, meditation and ritual all faiths seem to involve one of these. Many a person without faith has ritual. A morning stroll for a paper and coffee or an evening beer on the back porch these can be as important as a vespers service. Maybe we are hard wired for this stuff. Maybe it is something we need intrinsically.
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