With palms together,
Good Morning Everyone,
Today is one of those days, oy, one of those days, where cards and candy, flowers, and schmaltz flow like tidal waves, and at the speed of light, yet.
I will freely admit, I am not fond of Valentine's Day. I feel it is so artificial, so contrived,and worse, shallow.
People spend so much time and money on cards, candy, and other ready-mades, and so little time and energy on the real thing.
Love is hard. It is work. Love requires things of us we are so often unwilling to give. A piece of paper with a sentiment? Please.
Couples grow, relationships change. Sometimes they deepen, sometimes they remain stuck in romantic notions of by-gone times. Love requires a willingness to risk living in new growth. It requires a recasting of ideas, thoughts, and behaviors.
We love our partners and are committed to them. But this love is dynamic and changes over time. and because this is so, the nature of the relationship must change. Often deeper, sometimes in different directions, we work to hold on to an ever-changing ground.
The test of a relationship and the people in it is their willingness to release themselves from the bondage of history and step into a deeper, more satisfying present. Love is not two dimensional, it is incredibly multidimensional with surfaces facing in all directions.
Today I vow to open my heart to all those dimensions and directions..
Be well,
Organ Mountain Zen
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
Clearing Away Stuff
With palms together,
Good Morning Everyone,
The morning air is cold and the sky is dark. I put on the fire in the fireplace, made some coffee, and spent a little time picking up books. Somehow, my library spread through the living room and dining area, across the counter, and over my desk. Odd papers, folders, and a few pens completed the mess. This is the inevitable result of writing. We want our sources right in front of us. So, too, practice.
Our primary source in practice is ourselves. We sit facing a wall. Nothing else is there. This form isolates us and because this is so, it offers an opportunity to experience without secondary sources, i.e., the constant flow of voices and images around us.
This practice is a source of life and vitality. As things clear away, our life reveals itself as directly as possible. Like being able to see the granite counter under the books, we can see what is there rather than what we think is there.
When I take away the clutter clarity returns and with it our life energy rises.
Be well
Good Morning Everyone,
The morning air is cold and the sky is dark. I put on the fire in the fireplace, made some coffee, and spent a little time picking up books. Somehow, my library spread through the living room and dining area, across the counter, and over my desk. Odd papers, folders, and a few pens completed the mess. This is the inevitable result of writing. We want our sources right in front of us. So, too, practice.
Our primary source in practice is ourselves. We sit facing a wall. Nothing else is there. This form isolates us and because this is so, it offers an opportunity to experience without secondary sources, i.e., the constant flow of voices and images around us.
This practice is a source of life and vitality. As things clear away, our life reveals itself as directly as possible. Like being able to see the granite counter under the books, we can see what is there rather than what we think is there.
When I take away the clutter clarity returns and with it our life energy rises.
Be well
Thursday, February 11, 2010
A Question
With palms together,
Good Morning Everyone,
As some of you might know I am just completing a two year course of study with Rabbi Citrin at Temple Beth El in Las Cruces. The program, called "Journeys", explored historical, liturgical, theological, and personal issues surrounding Judaism and its practices. I am now knee deep in writing a paper to complete the program. A reader of my blog at Tricycle asked me a question and I thought I would take some time this morning to address it. The question was:
Hello Roshi , please I am curious how the mix of being a Buddhist priest and a Jewish lay teacher/student works ?
This is at once both a complex and simple question. There are those in both faith traditions who would argue that it does not work. They might be hooked on their tradition, unwilling to see more deeply what the aim is, or they might fear competing agendas, and so on. On the other hand, there are many who have viewed my effort with curiosity, appreciation, and even gratitude.
Contemplative practices have much in common and every faith tradition has a tradition of contemplative practice. It happens that in Zen and Judaism, thee are so very many parallels and points of agreement that synchronicity is not such a problem as it might be in other blends.
Mystical Judaism, through the teachings of kabbalists and the Hasidim, posit a view of God that is as nearly identical to Zen's view of Big Mind as is possible. Meditation has been traced to Jewish ancestors back to and including Abraham. And in both cases, the practice is the focus, not the beliefs.
I have found that each inform and deepen the other. One tills the soil, as the other plants seeds, one nurtures, the other reaps, one bakes, the other feasts, and in the end, manifestation of holiness. A holiness not holier than thou, but a holiness that reveals the sacred nature of all things.
People seem very interested in learning. I have taught very well attended classes in Jewish Spirituality, Kabbalah, Mussar,and conduct two weekly meditation periods at the Temple. The congregation, initially suspicious, has warmly accepted me over the years and I was even elected to the Board of Directors.
The Zen world has had a little more difficulty, I think. For one, most people's understanding of Judaism is quite shallow, even erroneous. Stereotypes prevail in both cases and these offer both practice opportunities and teaching moments.
For me personally, the path has been torturous as I am just a tad too serious. Prone to go black and white, I cut off my nose despite my face at times. Engaging however, in the torture is essential to deepening our faith, whether its faith in the Everything or faith in a practice.
As a result I have come to deeply appreciate the truth of the statement that there are many windows in the mansion of the Infinite. And great wisdom in letting go of our grasp of idols regardless of who made them and what they point to.
Be well.
Good Morning Everyone,
As some of you might know I am just completing a two year course of study with Rabbi Citrin at Temple Beth El in Las Cruces. The program, called "Journeys", explored historical, liturgical, theological, and personal issues surrounding Judaism and its practices. I am now knee deep in writing a paper to complete the program. A reader of my blog at Tricycle asked me a question and I thought I would take some time this morning to address it. The question was:
Hello Roshi , please I am curious how the mix of being a Buddhist priest and a Jewish lay teacher/student works ?
This is at once both a complex and simple question. There are those in both faith traditions who would argue that it does not work. They might be hooked on their tradition, unwilling to see more deeply what the aim is, or they might fear competing agendas, and so on. On the other hand, there are many who have viewed my effort with curiosity, appreciation, and even gratitude.
Contemplative practices have much in common and every faith tradition has a tradition of contemplative practice. It happens that in Zen and Judaism, thee are so very many parallels and points of agreement that synchronicity is not such a problem as it might be in other blends.
Mystical Judaism, through the teachings of kabbalists and the Hasidim, posit a view of God that is as nearly identical to Zen's view of Big Mind as is possible. Meditation has been traced to Jewish ancestors back to and including Abraham. And in both cases, the practice is the focus, not the beliefs.
I have found that each inform and deepen the other. One tills the soil, as the other plants seeds, one nurtures, the other reaps, one bakes, the other feasts, and in the end, manifestation of holiness. A holiness not holier than thou, but a holiness that reveals the sacred nature of all things.
People seem very interested in learning. I have taught very well attended classes in Jewish Spirituality, Kabbalah, Mussar,and conduct two weekly meditation periods at the Temple. The congregation, initially suspicious, has warmly accepted me over the years and I was even elected to the Board of Directors.
The Zen world has had a little more difficulty, I think. For one, most people's understanding of Judaism is quite shallow, even erroneous. Stereotypes prevail in both cases and these offer both practice opportunities and teaching moments.
For me personally, the path has been torturous as I am just a tad too serious. Prone to go black and white, I cut off my nose despite my face at times. Engaging however, in the torture is essential to deepening our faith, whether its faith in the Everything or faith in a practice.
As a result I have come to deeply appreciate the truth of the statement that there are many windows in the mansion of the Infinite. And great wisdom in letting go of our grasp of idols regardless of who made them and what they point to.
Be well.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Release
With palms together,
Good Morning Everyone,
A contemplative practice is a practice of continuous release. We let go of our grip on everything as each thing’s tightness is noticed. Breathe in, notice; breathe out, release.
Releasing is essential to discovering serenity.
We are animals who, when we perceive we are threatened, tighten. Chemistry kicks it. In the Army, we would call it going on “Alert.”
It is a natural and normal response, but one that is often unneeded and, too often, not dealt with well because we do not know how or we do not notice the response in the first place. Contemplative practice creates awareness necessary to notice and helps to develop a skill set in dealing with it once it happens.
Pay attention! Wake up! Each is bluntly asking us to notice. As we go through our day is mindfulness, we naturally notice. We notice our breath caught in our lungs. We notice an increase in the flushness of our face or our respiration becoming shallow and more rapid.
In each case, we practice to release. Opening our grip on things, we let go of control in order to experience our situation, we are in a place to release ourselves into it.
If we were not in a situation we would not be alive, which is to say, life is one continuous situation. A contemplative’s practice is to be alive in it and this requires release.
I picture my mind as having closed. I practice unlocking it and opening it, like a flower opening in the sunlight. On the other hand, my lungs, locked up, opening and releasing air. The release is an essential feeling to experience fully and completely.
In such a release, we learn to abide in our lives freely and easily.
Be well.
Good Morning Everyone,
A contemplative practice is a practice of continuous release. We let go of our grip on everything as each thing’s tightness is noticed. Breathe in, notice; breathe out, release.
Releasing is essential to discovering serenity.
We are animals who, when we perceive we are threatened, tighten. Chemistry kicks it. In the Army, we would call it going on “Alert.”
It is a natural and normal response, but one that is often unneeded and, too often, not dealt with well because we do not know how or we do not notice the response in the first place. Contemplative practice creates awareness necessary to notice and helps to develop a skill set in dealing with it once it happens.
Pay attention! Wake up! Each is bluntly asking us to notice. As we go through our day is mindfulness, we naturally notice. We notice our breath caught in our lungs. We notice an increase in the flushness of our face or our respiration becoming shallow and more rapid.
In each case, we practice to release. Opening our grip on things, we let go of control in order to experience our situation, we are in a place to release ourselves into it.
If we were not in a situation we would not be alive, which is to say, life is one continuous situation. A contemplative’s practice is to be alive in it and this requires release.
I picture my mind as having closed. I practice unlocking it and opening it, like a flower opening in the sunlight. On the other hand, my lungs, locked up, opening and releasing air. The release is an essential feeling to experience fully and completely.
In such a release, we learn to abide in our lives freely and easily.
Be well.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Holiness
With palms together,
Good Morning Everyone,
The morning moon is stunning against a black sky the fullness of which takes my breath away. Standing on the edge of darkness has that effect.
Darkness gets a bad rep. I remember a moment in childhood standing on the edge of an ocean. I could not see a thing. But I could feel. That vast expanse of emptiness is deep. I remember feeling awestruck.
As a child I did a dance both loving and fearing this vast darkness. As an adult, I know that we spend our lives trying to avoid it or meekly throw light at it or pretend it isn’t what it is. Open mystery.
Turn off your lights and go outside in the dark. Walk under the trees, under the stars, and open your heart to the universe. It is there to accept you.
Holiness is on such an edge. It is the point between light and dark, the edge of awareness, where taking any step with throw you off balance and into seeming oblivion. If you know it, it is not it, you must know it as a deep and abiding part of you.
Like a warm enfolding blanket, the Infinite embraces. It’s no wonder we humans love our robes be they simple shawls, tallit, or kesas. We wrap ourselves with the edge of holiness, and reside in wonder.
Be well
Good Morning Everyone,
The morning moon is stunning against a black sky the fullness of which takes my breath away. Standing on the edge of darkness has that effect.
Darkness gets a bad rep. I remember a moment in childhood standing on the edge of an ocean. I could not see a thing. But I could feel. That vast expanse of emptiness is deep. I remember feeling awestruck.
As a child I did a dance both loving and fearing this vast darkness. As an adult, I know that we spend our lives trying to avoid it or meekly throw light at it or pretend it isn’t what it is. Open mystery.
Turn off your lights and go outside in the dark. Walk under the trees, under the stars, and open your heart to the universe. It is there to accept you.
Holiness is on such an edge. It is the point between light and dark, the edge of awareness, where taking any step with throw you off balance and into seeming oblivion. If you know it, it is not it, you must know it as a deep and abiding part of you.
Like a warm enfolding blanket, the Infinite embraces. It’s no wonder we humans love our robes be they simple shawls, tallit, or kesas. We wrap ourselves with the edge of holiness, and reside in wonder.
Be well
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Sacred
With palms together,
Good Morning Everyone,
Last night we lit the havdallah candle and passed the spice box, marking the close of the Sabbath and the entering of a new week. While a beautiful ceremony, this whole notion of marking the sacred and profane is annoying. On the one hand, we invest in a time and space, creating a dualism, on the other hand we come to realize there is no place or time where the Infinite is not. Everything is. Simple.
Yet, here we are, even in Zen, lighting candles, bowing, treating this as somehow invested with meaning and that as not.
Perhaps we must: a sacred life would be a life lived with no automatic pilot. No rest. No letting go. A sacred life would be a life without meaning. When everything is sacred, nothing is.
The very definition of sacred demands a separation of one thing from another, investing holiness through mindful attention.
On the other hand, nothing can be profane as everything matters. Everything is deeply and intimately interconnected. One is many, many is one.
Only when we look to the function of ceremony do we begin to understand. Ceremony does not mark, create, or underscore anything at all. Ceremony invites us to recognize what already is. A mindfulness bell does not create our true home, it invites us to open ourselves to it as it is with us always.
Our place is our heart: wherever we go, there we are. We might consider relaxing into it.
Be well.
Good Morning Everyone,
Last night we lit the havdallah candle and passed the spice box, marking the close of the Sabbath and the entering of a new week. While a beautiful ceremony, this whole notion of marking the sacred and profane is annoying. On the one hand, we invest in a time and space, creating a dualism, on the other hand we come to realize there is no place or time where the Infinite is not. Everything is. Simple.
Yet, here we are, even in Zen, lighting candles, bowing, treating this as somehow invested with meaning and that as not.
Perhaps we must: a sacred life would be a life lived with no automatic pilot. No rest. No letting go. A sacred life would be a life without meaning. When everything is sacred, nothing is.
The very definition of sacred demands a separation of one thing from another, investing holiness through mindful attention.
On the other hand, nothing can be profane as everything matters. Everything is deeply and intimately interconnected. One is many, many is one.
Only when we look to the function of ceremony do we begin to understand. Ceremony does not mark, create, or underscore anything at all. Ceremony invites us to recognize what already is. A mindfulness bell does not create our true home, it invites us to open ourselves to it as it is with us always.
Our place is our heart: wherever we go, there we are. We might consider relaxing into it.
Be well.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Re-Enchantment
With palms together,
Good Morning Everyone,
Study is one of the dharma gates I enter often. Last night was Erev Shabbat and we stopped what we were doing to light candles, say blessings, and welcome a day of rest and holiness with a family dinner. The thing is, what I was doing was an expression of that very thing. I was studying and writing. My paper’s working title is the Sacralization of Reform Judaism.
As a Buddhist priest and a Jewish lay religious teacher/student, I practice to keep my dharma eye open to see such expressions and as an expression of holiness itself. I know, I know…words can be serious obstacles. What holiness is is another topic.
Anyway, I am noticing a tension between the rational, linear processes utilized in study and my willingness to open my heart to the sacred itself in that very process. Study requires a ‘what’s this in relation to that?’ sort of thinking. Holiness requires entering both this and that at the same time. It’s an immersion.
In Buddhist and Jewish traditions we have prayers for both entering study and wrapping ourselves in the sacred. In the end, we should come to understand they are not separate at all as we discover everything is sacred, everything is holy.
Unfortunately today, both study and the holy are either tortured or eschewed. Study has become a fact finding process with brain cells storing as much as possible while the holy is rarely encountered in our post-modern conscience. And if it is, we see it as anachronistic. Therein, the tension. We want holiness.
Such tension is a shadow, though, of our mind at play in multilayered playgrounds. These playgrounds are built as a result of our moving away from the natural, the powerful dark, edges of things. In the light we see the sacred is everywhere in everything. Non-duality dispels such a tension. Religion today seems to be rolling along that track. People seem to need a way to touch the sacred in their lives. We want to get to the edge and take a step.
A flower is opening.
That a religious group like Reform Judaism, born in the Age of Enlightenment and wedded to the principles of universality, science, and reason has itself begun to ask itself how to be an avenue to the holy for its members is testimony to this third millennia blossom.
Zen, often cold and indifferent feeling, has taken on a similar thrust. Our Order was created to take us out of the cold monastic walls of Japanese tradition and into the warm light of engaged practice with the world. We are in a place where our task is to re-enchant the world. It is best to do this by beginning with ourselves.
Be well.
Good Morning Everyone,
Study is one of the dharma gates I enter often. Last night was Erev Shabbat and we stopped what we were doing to light candles, say blessings, and welcome a day of rest and holiness with a family dinner. The thing is, what I was doing was an expression of that very thing. I was studying and writing. My paper’s working title is the Sacralization of Reform Judaism.
As a Buddhist priest and a Jewish lay religious teacher/student, I practice to keep my dharma eye open to see such expressions and as an expression of holiness itself. I know, I know…words can be serious obstacles. What holiness is is another topic.
Anyway, I am noticing a tension between the rational, linear processes utilized in study and my willingness to open my heart to the sacred itself in that very process. Study requires a ‘what’s this in relation to that?’ sort of thinking. Holiness requires entering both this and that at the same time. It’s an immersion.
In Buddhist and Jewish traditions we have prayers for both entering study and wrapping ourselves in the sacred. In the end, we should come to understand they are not separate at all as we discover everything is sacred, everything is holy.
Unfortunately today, both study and the holy are either tortured or eschewed. Study has become a fact finding process with brain cells storing as much as possible while the holy is rarely encountered in our post-modern conscience. And if it is, we see it as anachronistic. Therein, the tension. We want holiness.
Such tension is a shadow, though, of our mind at play in multilayered playgrounds. These playgrounds are built as a result of our moving away from the natural, the powerful dark, edges of things. In the light we see the sacred is everywhere in everything. Non-duality dispels such a tension. Religion today seems to be rolling along that track. People seem to need a way to touch the sacred in their lives. We want to get to the edge and take a step.
A flower is opening.
That a religious group like Reform Judaism, born in the Age of Enlightenment and wedded to the principles of universality, science, and reason has itself begun to ask itself how to be an avenue to the holy for its members is testimony to this third millennia blossom.
Zen, often cold and indifferent feeling, has taken on a similar thrust. Our Order was created to take us out of the cold monastic walls of Japanese tradition and into the warm light of engaged practice with the world. We are in a place where our task is to re-enchant the world. It is best to do this by beginning with ourselves.
Be well.
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