Good Morning Everyone,
When we seek something in intangible, we often do not find it. Somehow the act of looking gets in the way. We typically have an idea of what the "something" looks like and we set out to find something that corresponds to our idea. If we are searching for God, the Infinite, or Enlightenment, big problem, as we really have no idea what these look like. We only have our ideas about them.
Now some might say, yes, but these ideas are based on text references, such as biblical sources. Others might say, we we have Masters we can go to who will help point the way. Yes, true, but in both cases, the way is not in the picture the text or the Master presents, but in what unfolds as we seek.
Spiritual inquiry requires us to seek without any real idea as to what we will find. This is why it is so very difficult. In the beginning we have an idea, we want to have God in our lives, or faith, or enlightenment. Somehow these things sound wonderful and maybe even necessary to us. Perhaps we have been suffering, perhaps a loved one has died or left us, or maybe we3 just feel something has been missing in our lives.
We go find a book or two or three. Some may go to the Bible, others to books on religion, still others to church, synagogue or temple. We are seeking something. The books, churches, and religious teachers offer us an idea. "Oh, that's what I'm looking for" we say. But it is only an idea. Ideas, like other thoughts and feelings are rather temporary. In our minds and hearts they come and go. They are unstable, even absolute faith cannot last in our mind's eye for very long before it is replaced by another thought.
Many of us placate ourselves with these ideas, this "faith" or "belief" and never go any deeper. We convince ourselves we have found what we are looking for and that is that.
Yet, I suggest this is a shallow faith, it is a faith in the image of something, rather than the substance. This faith only gets us so far. So often this faith is shattered easily by the most ordinary of human experiences. True seekers must go beyond this.
The moment we acknowledge the this terrible truth becomes the moment we are true seekers. Images and ideas are scattered in pieces on the floor and we step out of the boxes of religion into the true light of day. You see, religion paints a picture, but we often mistake the picture for the thing itself. A picture may be worth a thousand words, but it still is only a picture and words are just words, and like the coffee spoons of T. S., Elliot, they measure out our lives in a hollow lifeless way.
Our task as seekers is to seek. We must never actually find.
Be well.
Organ Mountain Zen
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Life's Little Requirements
Good Morning Everyone,
This morning I made a nice breakfast for My Little Honey and me. I fired up the oven and whipped up some biscuits, while frying each of us one egg, over medium, and one fake sausage. Served with butter and strawberry jam, the pups were drooling before the plates got to the table.
Sipping coffee, we are now attending to our individual Internet business, she working on a second novel, me scribbling to you. Pete-kitty is curled on a chair by the window, Tripper is curled on the floor below him and wise old Pepper is sleeping at my feet.
In a little bit I've got to get changed and walk over to the synagogue for Talmud study. After that, I go to the downtown mall for a peace vigil. Its another Saturday and I'm feeling a bit guilty for not having gone to synagogue last night. We rarely miss, but there are times when its best to stay away, and since My Little Honey isn't quite up to snuff, this was one of those times.
Life is like that, you know. Our willingness to flow with change is a mark of our spiritual well-being. Sticks tend to break, while branches often bend. Our willingness to stay connected allows a healthy flow of nutrients and the water necessary for our pliability. Break yourself off from the community or family and you dry up, become brittle, and are far more easily broken.
If we remain within our practice regardless of where we are, then our practice becomes our refuge, our reality, and our community. Like life, it must be pliable and connected. It requires water and nourishment. It requires sunlight and fresh air. Those who practice in the dark, live in the dark, and as a result, cannot withstand the light.
Be well.
This morning I made a nice breakfast for My Little Honey and me. I fired up the oven and whipped up some biscuits, while frying each of us one egg, over medium, and one fake sausage. Served with butter and strawberry jam, the pups were drooling before the plates got to the table.
Sipping coffee, we are now attending to our individual Internet business, she working on a second novel, me scribbling to you. Pete-kitty is curled on a chair by the window, Tripper is curled on the floor below him and wise old Pepper is sleeping at my feet.
In a little bit I've got to get changed and walk over to the synagogue for Talmud study. After that, I go to the downtown mall for a peace vigil. Its another Saturday and I'm feeling a bit guilty for not having gone to synagogue last night. We rarely miss, but there are times when its best to stay away, and since My Little Honey isn't quite up to snuff, this was one of those times.
Life is like that, you know. Our willingness to flow with change is a mark of our spiritual well-being. Sticks tend to break, while branches often bend. Our willingness to stay connected allows a healthy flow of nutrients and the water necessary for our pliability. Break yourself off from the community or family and you dry up, become brittle, and are far more easily broken.
If we remain within our practice regardless of where we are, then our practice becomes our refuge, our reality, and our community. Like life, it must be pliable and connected. It requires water and nourishment. It requires sunlight and fresh air. Those who practice in the dark, live in the dark, and as a result, cannot withstand the light.
Be well.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Peace: Let it Begin With Each of Us
Good Morning Everyone,
Yesterday afternoon I sat zazen at the Federal Building bearing witness for peace. It was a wonderful practice period with a few people who have become Wednesday afternoon allies. We practice in virtual silence with an increasing number of honks of horns in support over the last two years I've been at this. We rarely get a negative comment, rarely.
In fact, yesterday we had a press person visit us and do interviews while some attorney stopped by to offer his support for our work. These are not uncommon occurrences. Even the construction workers give up thumbs up as they pass by us.
I think peace is on every one's mind and the only real question is how to best achieve it.
My point of view is really simple, but perhaps I am a simple person, peace comes when we become peace.
Be well.
Yesterday afternoon I sat zazen at the Federal Building bearing witness for peace. It was a wonderful practice period with a few people who have become Wednesday afternoon allies. We practice in virtual silence with an increasing number of honks of horns in support over the last two years I've been at this. We rarely get a negative comment, rarely.
In fact, yesterday we had a press person visit us and do interviews while some attorney stopped by to offer his support for our work. These are not uncommon occurrences. Even the construction workers give up thumbs up as they pass by us.
I think peace is on every one's mind and the only real question is how to best achieve it.
My point of view is really simple, but perhaps I am a simple person, peace comes when we become peace.
Be well.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Pretense
With palms together,
Good Morning Everyone,
Our Zen is our life, not our rules or precepts or even our practices about our life. It is very easy to confuse the two. Frankly it is easier altogether to create a temple with a nice alter, beautiful Buddha, and fragrant incense, than to walk the walk of Buddhist life. Such a temple makes us feel like Buddhists, but if we are not buddhas as we leave, drive our cars, interact with our friends and co-workers, and go through our day, then the temple is really just a shallow idol we pay homage to, a pretense, so to speak.
Walking the walk requires us to actually make our practice our life itself. The means we must think-feel our way through our precepts and make them living expressions of our Buddha Nature. Sitting like a buddha is not being a Buddha.
We must ask ourselves how is our life informing our practice, how are we actually being buddhas? Some might say we should "just sit" sooner or later a light will go off. Yeah? So what? Unless we change our life and go out into the world with that light, we might as well be in the dark.
To eat meat, not eat meat; to sit in witness or not sit in witness; to be buddhas or pretend buddhas, has nothing to do with eating meat or bearing witness, but it has everything to do, with being a Buddha. These things, like the old story of polishing a tile to make it a mirror, do not make us Buddhas or Buddhists. We are already Buddha. Life is already Dharma. Humanity is our Sangha. It is our decision to live our lives as Buddhas that makes a difference.
How do you do that?
Good Morning Everyone,
Our Zen is our life, not our rules or precepts or even our practices about our life. It is very easy to confuse the two. Frankly it is easier altogether to create a temple with a nice alter, beautiful Buddha, and fragrant incense, than to walk the walk of Buddhist life. Such a temple makes us feel like Buddhists, but if we are not buddhas as we leave, drive our cars, interact with our friends and co-workers, and go through our day, then the temple is really just a shallow idol we pay homage to, a pretense, so to speak.
Walking the walk requires us to actually make our practice our life itself. The means we must think-feel our way through our precepts and make them living expressions of our Buddha Nature. Sitting like a buddha is not being a Buddha.
We must ask ourselves how is our life informing our practice, how are we actually being buddhas? Some might say we should "just sit" sooner or later a light will go off. Yeah? So what? Unless we change our life and go out into the world with that light, we might as well be in the dark.
To eat meat, not eat meat; to sit in witness or not sit in witness; to be buddhas or pretend buddhas, has nothing to do with eating meat or bearing witness, but it has everything to do, with being a Buddha. These things, like the old story of polishing a tile to make it a mirror, do not make us Buddhas or Buddhists. We are already Buddha. Life is already Dharma. Humanity is our Sangha. It is our decision to live our lives as Buddhas that makes a difference.
How do you do that?
Sunday, February 10, 2008
There's Nothing to Do!
Good Morning Everyone,
"There's no where to go!" "There's no thing to do!" Any parent or couple married longer than a couple of years has heard these laments. These are the words of boredom. I occasionally feel bored myself. Yet, rather than dive into whine, I prefer to experience myself in the state of boredom. What does it really feel like?
There is the sense of being trapped, the sense of numbness, the sense of pure flatness, or the sense of restless despair that sometimes masks itself as boredom. We often lack the language to deal with such states and feelings, as dealing requires a naming of sorts, a dialogue -- even if it is just interior dialogue.
More importantly, though, is the need to be aware What is it? What is it!
Too quickly we rush to answer our feelings: we rush to label or we rush to solution. Delay here is a wonderful strategy. Feel. Be the feeling. Experience yourself as uncomfortable as it might at first be.
In the process, we learn a few things. First we learn we are not really slave to our impulses. second, we learn that being bored, or flat, or even trapped, is not all that bad. Third, we can learn that such feelings are more a result of our thoughts about a situation than any actual reflection of that situation.
We would not learn these things without being still.
Stillness is a great teacher.
Be well.
Harvey Sodaiho Hilbert-roshi
Clear Mind Zen
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"There's no where to go!" "There's no thing to do!" Any parent or couple married longer than a couple of years has heard these laments. These are the words of boredom. I occasionally feel bored myself. Yet, rather than dive into whine, I prefer to experience myself in the state of boredom. What does it really feel like?
There is the sense of being trapped, the sense of numbness, the sense of pure flatness, or the sense of restless despair that sometimes masks itself as boredom. We often lack the language to deal with such states and feelings, as dealing requires a naming of sorts, a dialogue -- even if it is just interior dialogue.
More importantly, though, is the need to be aware What is it? What is it!
Too quickly we rush to answer our feelings: we rush to label or we rush to solution. Delay here is a wonderful strategy. Feel. Be the feeling. Experience yourself as uncomfortable as it might at first be.
In the process, we learn a few things. First we learn we are not really slave to our impulses. second, we learn that being bored, or flat, or even trapped, is not all that bad. Third, we can learn that such feelings are more a result of our thoughts about a situation than any actual reflection of that situation.
We would not learn these things without being still.
Stillness is a great teacher.
Be well.
Harvey Sodaiho Hilbert-roshi
Clear Mind Zen
Web Log
Be a better friend, newshound, and know-it-all with Yahoo! Mobile.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
Two Fires, One Flame
Good Morning Everyone,
This morning I sit at my desk in my little home Zendo surrounded by relics. On one wall are three enclosed bookcases. In the bookcases are large sections of books related to Zen on one side and Judaism on the other. Under the enclosed cases are various framed photographs, various menorahs, my begging bowl, a ceramic bearded Jew with a talit over his shoulders, a seated buddha kitty statue, and a brush set for calligraphy.
On another wall, a silk painting of a Hanoi street I bought in Vietnam.. Across from it is a photograph I took of a Vietnamese village in the central highlands of Vietnam. My desk sits under it crowded with several potted plants, my laptop, and the books and notebooks that are in my present moment.
Then there is my small rough-hewn wooden alter table. On it a statue of Buddha, a statue of Jizo bodhisattva, a water offering, an incense offering and a candle. Mt cushion sits in front of it, inviting me daily to practice.
All of these are true relics as they offer glimpses into what was. Other moments no longer present, yet are capable of being re-animated by my mind. Books reveal the footsteps of others; notebooks map our current path, and at bottom, there in the silt, nothing but the present. So, I wonder on one side of my mind at times who I am, read the relics, then note what I have now become, while on the other, I dismiss the thought entirely on my cushion in favor of just being. There really is a reason why my Navajo medicine man friend named me "Two Fires".
When we label ourselves we kill our true nature; without a label we are forever in the eternal now. I believe my name should really be "Two Fires, One Flame".
Be well.
Harvey Sodaiho Hilbert-roshi
Clear Mind Zen
Web Log
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This morning I sit at my desk in my little home Zendo surrounded by relics. On one wall are three enclosed bookcases. In the bookcases are large sections of books related to Zen on one side and Judaism on the other. Under the enclosed cases are various framed photographs, various menorahs, my begging bowl, a ceramic bearded Jew with a talit over his shoulders, a seated buddha kitty statue, and a brush set for calligraphy.
On another wall, a silk painting of a Hanoi street I bought in Vietnam.. Across from it is a photograph I took of a Vietnamese village in the central highlands of Vietnam. My desk sits under it crowded with several potted plants, my laptop, and the books and notebooks that are in my present moment.
Then there is my small rough-hewn wooden alter table. On it a statue of Buddha, a statue of Jizo bodhisattva, a water offering, an incense offering and a candle. Mt cushion sits in front of it, inviting me daily to practice.
All of these are true relics as they offer glimpses into what was. Other moments no longer present, yet are capable of being re-animated by my mind. Books reveal the footsteps of others; notebooks map our current path, and at bottom, there in the silt, nothing but the present. So, I wonder on one side of my mind at times who I am, read the relics, then note what I have now become, while on the other, I dismiss the thought entirely on my cushion in favor of just being. There really is a reason why my Navajo medicine man friend named me "Two Fires".
When we label ourselves we kill our true nature; without a label we are forever in the eternal now. I believe my name should really be "Two Fires, One Flame".
Be well.
Harvey Sodaiho Hilbert-roshi
Clear Mind Zen
Web Log
Never miss a thing. Make Yahoo your homepage.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Being Everything
Good Morning Everyone,
Someone on a blog this morning suggested I was rather narrow in my themes. I thought it a curious perspective. Admittedly, I write mostly about religious/spiritual themes, but I try to talk about them in a very wide spectrum of applications, anywhere from teacups to space-time relativity. In any event, the comment gave me pause and I reflected for a bit on it.
Most of us tend to compartmentalize our lives: this is religion, that is cooking, this other thing is sports, and over here is work. My consistent point of view is that this is not only false, but spiritually dangerous. Its part of the reductionism that was epidemic in the 19th and 20th centuries. It even has lead scientists to try to find a God spot in our brains, for goodness sake.
Spiritual life is a whole life. Its about seeing everything as our life, our breath, and our intimate connection to everything else. We are not separate, but completely one. When we talk about being a Christian, or a Jew, or a Muslim, or a Buddhist, we should keep in mind that these are just labels for paths to the same thing: actualization with and as the Infinite.
I don't like clubs, especially exclusive clubs. Although it wasn't always so, I practice inclusiveness as much as possible. It is important for us to realize we create our own issues when we treat a stranger as somehow different from ourselves. This acceptance of everything, however, is not permission to be crazy or hurtful or to tolerate such things in others. Part of a disciplined spiritual practice is learning to say no, at least as easily as we say yes.
When we practice meditation, we are creating a space for this oneness to be seen through the very discipline of acceptance without attachment or avoidance. As we sit quietly, thoughts arise, feelings emerge, and we might want to follow them. We gently notice them and return to being present. We begin to see everything appears related to everything else: thoughts relate to other thoughts, feelings relate to other feelings, and all of these relate to each other. It is a perfect storm and we are its eye.
Be well.
Rev. Dr. So Daiho Hilbert-roshi
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