I'm all lost in the supermarket

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stuart on a recent trip to the market.

 

Sailing Along

The most fun I had this summer came to me as a very pleasant surprise. Our office had a little retreat for an afternoon at Lake Tahoe a couple of weeks ago. I thought I was going up there for a sort of picnic or barbecue at the home of one of our advisory board members. Turned out that he had a couple of boats moored in the lake, and offered to let us take a little ride. Eight people opted to take out the big power boat, and six of us went out with our host John and his house guest Isabella on the sailboat, leaving about as many people ashore to prepare the barbecue.














Our host John proved to be a very kind and generous man. As we got underway, with John at the helm and Isabella acting as first mate, they directed us patiently in how to handle the lines, and deploy the sails. As soon as we were squared away, John offered to let someone take the helm. Standing by and offering calm and patient guidance, and an occasional hand on the wheel, he would instruct us each in turn, and then let us have the helm. Three of us got the opportunity, and I was allowed to handle the wheel for nearly an hour. Wow what a treat that was.












This boat, for a few minutes sailing very nearby, was very similar in size and design to the 36 foot vessel we were on.










Standing at the helm, feeling the wind in the sails, the waves, the feel of the vessel underfoot, it was truly a transcendent experience. What an unexpected joy for me! I had no idea. I can still close my eyes and experience that serene feeling. At one with all that is.

Now I really understand what it means to be "sailing along".

When we got back to shore, near dusk, the barbecue had pretty much been cooked and eaten, but I would much rather have still been out on the lake.

Zazen on Ching-t’ing Mountain
Lo Po (701-762)

The birds have vanished down the sky.
Now the last cloud drains away.
We sit together, the mountain and me,
until only the mountain remains.

Happy Valentine's Day!

New Year's Day on the Flats
















Took a little trip out west this afternoon, to the Jungo Flats, about 35 miles west of town. It was a nice quiet place to spend a bit of the first day of the new year. No people, no birds, no insects, no animals, no sound, no wind, just beautiful space and light. This playa is large enough that you can see the curvature of the earth if you look closely. Its a good place to think about the great wheels at work in the universe.
















I did find this shadow lurking about, watching me over its shoulder.

Yield and Overcome














Winnemucca Mountain - Feb 2006


Be Really whole,
And All things will come to you.
- Lao Tsu - Tao te ching


Reality, the thing I like about it is you to to create it yourself. And the really amazing thing is that everbody else gets to do it too, and at the same time!

It's really fun.

Since you get to create your own reality, you can create your own future.

But, when you begin to plan your alternate futures, it begins, the constant discernment and discrimination. The dual nature of existence indicates that this is exactly the point at which you lose your awareness of reality.

So, there you go, you get to create your own reality, but it doesn't really exist.

More Black Sun

The sun goes down another day in the Great Basin. The Big Empty. Tonight is nearly a full moon, so sundown and moonrise happen together.

If only it were that easy.

From the Associated Press's coverage of the Dalai Lama's visit to Rutgers University over the weekend:

As the Dalai Lama neared the end of his speech, he explored the difference between attachment and compassion, attachment being a selective connection shared by friends, he said, while compassion is an 'unbiased' act.

Nearby, a former flight attendant, Kathleen Davis, squealed. She had been taking notes on a pink piece of paper and pointed to the words 'attachment' and 'compassion'.

"That's it!" she said. "Its one or the other. I've got goose bumps."

He did seem to like the Key to the City of New York he received later in the day.

Shoveling Snow With Buddha

In the usual iconography of the temple or the local Wok
you would never see him doing such a thing,
tossing the dry snow over a mountain
of his bare, round shoulder,
his hair tied in a knot,
a model of concentration.

Sitting is more his speed, if that is the word
for what he does, or does not do.

Even the season is wrong for him.
In all his manifestations, is it not warm or slightly humid?
Is this not implied by his serene expression,
that smile so wide it wraps itself around the waist of the universe?

But here we are, working our way down the driveway,
one shovelful at a time.
We toss the light powder into the clear air.
We feel the cold mist on our faces.
And with every heave we disappear
and become lost to each other
in these sudden clouds of our own making,
these fountain-bursts of snow.

This is so much better than a sermon in church,
I say out loud, but Buddha keeps on shoveling.
This is the true religion, the religion of snow,
and sunlight and winter geese barking in the sky,
I say, but he is too busy to hear me.

He has thrown himself into shoveling snow
as if it were the purpose of existence,
as if the sign of a perfect life were a clear driveway
you could back the car down easily
and drive off into the vanities of the world
with a broken heater fan and a song on the radio.

All morning long we work side by side,
me with my commentary
and he inside his generous pocket of silence,
until the hour is nearly noon
and the snow is piled high all around us;
then, I hear him speak.

After this, he asks,
can we go inside and play cards?

Certainly, I reply, and I will heat some milk
and bring cups of hot chocolate to the table
while you shuffle the deck.
and our boots stand dripping by the door.

Aaah, says the Buddha, lifting his eyes
and leaning for a moment on his shovel
before he drives the thin blade again
deep into the glittering white snow.

Billy Collins

Happy Valentine's Day