With palms together,
Good Morning All,
We have all heard the phrase, "no time like the present." In Zen this is considered a daily mantra. Past and future are creations of mind. Yet we must be careful not to make the present moment a creation as well.
We live in the present by living directly, mindfully, and without the craziness that comes with discrimination. Here in this moment, there are plastic keys. Fingers. Electricity. Light. Yet, as soon as I name these, they are not it at all. Now they are my language applied to the phenomenon. What is light before we call it light? What is plastic, finger? before the two meet?
Who cares.
When the light is on, appreciate it. When it is time to write, write; time to clean, clean. This is the "so what" practice of Zen.
Living in the past, we are dead. Living in the future, not yet born. The present is not a theory. It is what it is: appreciate it.
Be well.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Religious Life
With palms together,
Good Morning All,
This morning I woke to a gentle rain. How nice to hear the tender sound of raindrops. My Little Honey is already out the door. She and friend Deana are attending some yarn or knitting event. They hope to sell buttons they have made. So, I am home alone on a Saturday morning. A day of rest. No Zen Center. Just myself and the universe. Well, there is Tripper, who tries to eat Pete-kitty, who will have none of it, and of course, Pepper who just watches all the fuss.
I must say I do enjoy this stage of my life, enjoying such moments as this. Zazen has taught my body/mind to accept the moment without very much conflict. Conflicts that do arise, are settled quickly because they are there to be resolved. Arguments are less hostile, more pliable, and end quickly.
This is being upright. A duck on water, choppy or still, is a duck on water.
The rain is increasing its tempo. We have gone from waltz to four-step. Perhaps we will be witness to a tango. Its just rain. I sit under the canopy of my apartment, participant-witness to it all.
This is religious life.
Be well.
Good Morning All,
This morning I woke to a gentle rain. How nice to hear the tender sound of raindrops. My Little Honey is already out the door. She and friend Deana are attending some yarn or knitting event. They hope to sell buttons they have made. So, I am home alone on a Saturday morning. A day of rest. No Zen Center. Just myself and the universe. Well, there is Tripper, who tries to eat Pete-kitty, who will have none of it, and of course, Pepper who just watches all the fuss.
I must say I do enjoy this stage of my life, enjoying such moments as this. Zazen has taught my body/mind to accept the moment without very much conflict. Conflicts that do arise, are settled quickly because they are there to be resolved. Arguments are less hostile, more pliable, and end quickly.
This is being upright. A duck on water, choppy or still, is a duck on water.
The rain is increasing its tempo. We have gone from waltz to four-step. Perhaps we will be witness to a tango. Its just rain. I sit under the canopy of my apartment, participant-witness to it all.
This is religious life.
Be well.
Friday, October 13, 2006
Being Good
With palms together,
Good Afternoon All,
We live to be good people. Yet sometimes, I think we slip into just living, not even just living, but a sort of existing that includes going through the motions of eating, talking, working, sleeping, with no attention on what each moment of being is for us.
How do we live to be good people? What is required of us? Do we need to be superheroes? Heroes? Do we need to be Great Buddhas? Jesus? Moses? The Prophet?
When we walk along the sidewalk, we notice an ant and step over the ant. When we notice there is no toilet paper on the roll, we replace the toilet paper. If someone is angry with us, we listen. If someone needs us, we are there. These are nothing really special, nothing extraordinary, yet so often we are so asleep that we step on the ant, leave the bathroom, blow off someones feelings, and turn on the TV. Modern life has many exits.
Being present has only one: zazen. Zazen is the practice of being present. Attention to the world within us and without us: we are neither engaged nor disengaged. Whatever is there is there and we are with it 100%. Our body is upright; our mind is upright; our heart is open. Practice.
Be well.
Good Afternoon All,
We live to be good people. Yet sometimes, I think we slip into just living, not even just living, but a sort of existing that includes going through the motions of eating, talking, working, sleeping, with no attention on what each moment of being is for us.
How do we live to be good people? What is required of us? Do we need to be superheroes? Heroes? Do we need to be Great Buddhas? Jesus? Moses? The Prophet?
When we walk along the sidewalk, we notice an ant and step over the ant. When we notice there is no toilet paper on the roll, we replace the toilet paper. If someone is angry with us, we listen. If someone needs us, we are there. These are nothing really special, nothing extraordinary, yet so often we are so asleep that we step on the ant, leave the bathroom, blow off someones feelings, and turn on the TV. Modern life has many exits.
Being present has only one: zazen. Zazen is the practice of being present. Attention to the world within us and without us: we are neither engaged nor disengaged. Whatever is there is there and we are with it 100%. Our body is upright; our mind is upright; our heart is open. Practice.
Be well.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Saving All Beings
With palms together,
Good Morning All,
This morning was interesting. Most mornings are, you know. We are awakened by whatever, in my case a small dog with a wet tongue, and see that it is morning. We are grateful for awakening and opening our eyes to see clearly. We set out to save all sentient beings. OMG! What a task!
Sentient being Numero Uno is myself. I drive down to the Zendo, light the alter candles, light incense. Make coffee for breakfast. I climb onto the Ino's cushion and wait.
In comes Zen To, slapping feet on the saltio tile. He is respectful, bows and enters, stands by his seat. No other sentient beings arrive as my watch indicates its time: bell is invited to ring. Chanting happens. Wood blocks are rhythmically struck. Then abruptly, silence.
At the appointed time, the bell is invited to sound again. More chanting and drumming. Light an incense offering, bow, leave the zendo.
Breakfast was simple. Zen To learned to make pancakes on the griddle. I poured the coffee. We ate and talked about Suzuki-roshi's first book. Just after breakfast two other sentient beings arrive, Revs. Hogaku and Shin Getsu roshi. They come with a new wooden shoji screen for our Zendo entrance. They bring cinnamon rolls. I eat one and think about getting fat.
Zen To leaves, I make arrangements to meet Rev. Gozen for lunch with the roshis. Three three of us who are left chat a bit about the Zen Center and saving all sentient beings, then I go home to My Little Honey. It is 9:00 AM.
Time for a nap.
Be well.
Team Zen:
Rev. Harvey So Daiho Hilbert, Ph.D. May All Beings Be Free From Suffering
On the web at:
Want to be your own boss? Learn how on Yahoo! Small Business.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Change
With palms together,
Good Morning All,
Another way of understanding this is in terms of meaning building. We create meaning in our lives and meaning is so important that its absence can threaten our very existence. So when we stop creating meaning?
Retirement is death.
We human beings must evolve. We must throw away such notions as retirement. Instead, it would be more useful, and healthy, to think of it as exploring. At various stages of our lives we explore and build in various sets of areas: education, work, relationships, family, community, church, temple, or mosque.As we age, we move from one set of interests and areas to others, each time exploring, filling out, adding, deleting, and so on. My sense is that this process is eternal.
Some of us, though, seem to stop. We get tired. We no longer are interested in the world. And then we dry up and die and are scattered about the ground.And even in this are building.
It must be noted, that it is in fact only a seeming pause. This pause is another transition allowing us to become material for the next generation. It is only our hubris or fear that refuses to allow us to see this clearly.
Be well.
Good Morning All,
Human beings are builders. Its what we do. We build houses, social structures, spiritual structures, and connections so that these structures come together and live. In this sense we are alive and enable life. When we break down the connections, the energy flow is broken and the parts begin to fail. We call this entropy.
So what happens when as individuals we retire from building?
Another way of understanding this is in terms of meaning building. We create meaning in our lives and meaning is so important that its absence can threaten our very existence. So when we stop creating meaning?
Retirement is death.
We human beings must evolve. We must throw away such notions as retirement. Instead, it would be more useful, and healthy, to think of it as exploring. At various stages of our lives we explore and build in various sets of areas: education, work, relationships, family, community, church, temple, or mosque.As we age, we move from one set of interests and areas to others, each time exploring, filling out, adding, deleting, and so on. My sense is that this process is eternal.
Some of us, though, seem to stop. We get tired. We no longer are interested in the world. And then we dry up and die and are scattered about the ground.And even in this are building.
It must be noted, that it is in fact only a seeming pause. This pause is another transition allowing us to become material for the next generation. It is only our hubris or fear that refuses to allow us to see this clearly.
Be well.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
What's In Your Moment?
With palms together,
Good Morning All,
On a mountain, in a desert, on a plain, in a meadow, in the rain, in the sun, in the dark, in the wind: just be there. We do ourselves such a disservice always being somewhere else. We seem to think there and here are different. I suppose they are, in a manner of speaking. Yet, fundamentally, they are the same, earth, sea, sky and the face of human construct. When we appreciate somewhere else more than somewhere here, we are never really here and here itself seems the fiction.
Reality is never tasted this way. We live in a dream. Until the snap of lightening or the dropping of a glass to bring us to the present. Ah, the cocoons we are able to create! So pleasant.
We say, "I take refuge...together with all beings..." reminding us that living in the truth of the here and now is living in a world without duality. It is nowhere special and hardly distinguished. It is just here. This little finger touching this little key touching your eye and thus, your mind, and noticing this fact without much ado.
We practice zazen to appreciate this moment as fully and completely as possible, and then the next. We practice zazen to help us stay awake, that is, present, and nothing more.Knowing that living in this small thing is everything.
Be well.
Rev. Harvey So Daiho Hilbert, Ph.D. May All Beings Be Free From Suffering
On the web at:
Want to be your own boss? Learn how on Yahoo! Small Business.
Monday, October 9, 2006
Almost Odd
With palms together,
Good Morning All,
Waking to rolling thunder and a wet breeze I am reminded of jungles and the scent of fear. Its odd how one thing recalls another, but I believe this is how our mind works; a sort of memory karmic action.
Yesterday I had occasion to meet an elder writer. At 98 she has come out with a memoir. She is a delightful woman and sat gracefully in a chair signing her book. I sat next to her for awhile. On my other shoulder was a man I had met elsewhere. A Vietnam combat vet, like myself, who still cannot sleep and still is haunted by decades old demons.
We talked.
Both people had memories, both said they wished some of their memories would disappear, yet one uses her memories to contextualize her life; the other finds memory a felonious intrusion.
As I sat between them, I remembered a return trip to Vietnam I took with my wife and some other Vietnam Vets some years ago. I recalled sitting at a long table in a dining room in some humid northern province. One side, an array of American Vietnam veterans; the other side, an array of North Vietnamese Army veterans. We traded shots, this time however, the shots were not metal, but rather cheap Russian vodka.
We shared stories and photographs, we laughed and cried. Just a mess of sloppy human beings discovering our ability to forgive and embrace. I noticed as I told this story, my veteran friend withdrew and responded with a slight degree of fear. I think it is this that so deeply separates us.
Today I sat in a beautiful living room with a group of talented writers, eating petifiores and sipping punch. Almost odd, but so distinctly human.
Fear is a clear hindrance in our mind. If allowed, it drives us into caves of darkness wherein every shadow is a killer. Yet I know it is possible to be like a small candle. Still, and serene illuminating without blazing, teaching ourselves that the monsters we fear are only ourselves in darkness.
Be well.
Good Morning All,
Waking to rolling thunder and a wet breeze I am reminded of jungles and the scent of fear. Its odd how one thing recalls another, but I believe this is how our mind works; a sort of memory karmic action.
Yesterday I had occasion to meet an elder writer. At 98 she has come out with a memoir. She is a delightful woman and sat gracefully in a chair signing her book. I sat next to her for awhile. On my other shoulder was a man I had met elsewhere. A Vietnam combat vet, like myself, who still cannot sleep and still is haunted by decades old demons.
We talked.
Both people had memories, both said they wished some of their memories would disappear, yet one uses her memories to contextualize her life; the other finds memory a felonious intrusion.
As I sat between them, I remembered a return trip to Vietnam I took with my wife and some other Vietnam Vets some years ago. I recalled sitting at a long table in a dining room in some humid northern province. One side, an array of American Vietnam veterans; the other side, an array of North Vietnamese Army veterans. We traded shots, this time however, the shots were not metal, but rather cheap Russian vodka.
We shared stories and photographs, we laughed and cried. Just a mess of sloppy human beings discovering our ability to forgive and embrace. I noticed as I told this story, my veteran friend withdrew and responded with a slight degree of fear. I think it is this that so deeply separates us.
Today I sat in a beautiful living room with a group of talented writers, eating petifiores and sipping punch. Almost odd, but so distinctly human.
Fear is a clear hindrance in our mind. If allowed, it drives us into caves of darkness wherein every shadow is a killer. Yet I know it is possible to be like a small candle. Still, and serene illuminating without blazing, teaching ourselves that the monsters we fear are only ourselves in darkness.
Be well.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)