Being Present

This morning we awake to the cries of Baby Tate and a telephone call from New Mexico. Tate is grumpy, but always willing to giggle for a moment when Pappy Zen makes odd faces. Susanne, our neighbor at the Refuge, called to say that my old friend, Shaker, was collicking last night. A veterinarian visit later suggested she was OK. This morning Susanne says she is lethargic.

To be alive means to feel. Sometimes we feel good, sometimes not. Sometimes we are happy, sometimes not. To be awake means that when we are hot, we are fully hot; when we are cold, we are fully cold. Enlightenment does nothing to make what is there better. It is what we call being one with the universe and the universe is a vast container. Being one with being sick means fully being sick, present with our sickness, completely. A thought of escaping our sickness leads us to suffering as it adds duality to our consciousness, separating us from ourselves, adding a discernment.

When someone we care for is suffering, we suffer. When we are hot, we are hot. When we are cold, we are cold. As we are these things, we naturally do what we can within them. We care for our suffering. We add a blanket, take off a blanket, but we do so without the effort of mental anguish.

The ability to do this comes with the wisdom of mindful presence.

Be well.

Driving

With palms together,
Good Morning Sangha,

In the morning we will be leaving for Memphis to visit our daughter, not-son-in-law, and grandbaby Tate. We are looking forward to the drive and the visit. I will post from Memphis when I get there.

Driving long distance is sort of like running long distance: an integration of things occurs as we settle into the drive. At first its all a flutter, did we pack this, forget that? But as the drive continues, just as with running, and sitting Zazen, a natural rhythm develops or settles in. This is our natural state when mind is not overly intruding. It is good practice.

Finding a way to make this naturalness a part of everything you do is the Third Pure Precept in action.

Be well.

Being a Buddha

With palms together,
Good Morning Sangha,

When we sit Zazen we gather ourselves together, fold our legs, and sit down. Our breath comes together with our mind, our skin, eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. Mind rises and falls, dances a fast dance, then slow dance, sometimes no dance. There comes a moment of integration. Stillness. Once again things begin to stir, once more thought, once more feeling, taste, touch, and sound. Stillness, motion, no difference, no preference. When sitting, just sit.

This practice enables us to see clearly how we are buddhas in each moment. The moment we set aside our preferences, navigate according to our precepts, manifest the perfections, we are buddhas. This is so in the middle of choppy waters and calm waters; in the middle of stinking garbage and wonderful roses; when we are suffering and not suffering. Buddha means awake. Nothing more or less. Awake.

Living awake changes everything and changes nothing. Living awake means coffee is both coffee and not-coffee at the same time, no difference. Concept and experience clearly seen as separate and the same. So difficult, so easy.

I invite you to engage yourself in this practice. Sit. Gather yourself. Awaken. Move on.

Be well.

A Full Cup

With palms together,
Good Morning Sangha,

There is a story about a scholar who visits an Old Zen Master to receive instruction. The Master pours tea into a cup for the scholar; full, the cup overflows until the scholar shouts "stop!"

Unless we are willing to empty ourselves of what we think we know, there can be no room for what presents itself in each moment. Zazen is like a slow leak.

Take your cup and go.

Be well.

Balancing Act

With palms together,
Good Morning Sangha,

With so much going on outside in the world, it is easy to go there and get lost or caught up in the whirlwind. Our perception is that it is outside of us and is so important that we must do something. War, poverty, injustice, disease; these are awful things worthy of our attention and our energy.

Yet, in truth, these things are not out there, but inside of us. In our minds and our hearts. We respond with a disturbed body, we become ill. In such a condition we are not present for our friends and family. We are not fully there for our co-workers and employers.

These things are important. We should do what we can to ease suffering, stop violence, bring health to the ill. We should do so, however, with a healthy mind, a healthy body, and a wholesome heart. This requires us to establish boundaries, maintain these boundaries, and nurture those boundaries.

A boundary is a point where doing begins to hurt us.

Recognizing that there are limits to our power and capacity to be of service, to absorb suffering, and to be present, is a necessary first step. Willingness to say no is the second step. Finally we must nurture ourselves as a third step. Eating well, getting enough sleep, getting exercise, practicing Zazen, openning our hearts to others in discussion: these are ways of taking good care of ourselves.

In the absolute sense we are one with the universe. In the relative sense we are just a finite body with finite energy. Our practice is to live between the two recognizing the truth and needs of both.

Be well.

Good Night and Good Luck

With palms together,
Good Morning Sangha,

Yesterday we watched "Good Night and Good Luck" a film about Edward R. Murrow and the McCarthy era in the United States. It was well worth watching and I am glad we bought it so we can watch it again a few times over. George Clooney did a wonderful job. It is an eloquent film.

The film is quite a reminder of things. A reminder that fear can drive us to the brink of willingly giving up our freedoms and responsibilities in order to feel safe. A reminder that such fear can be very easily exploited. And a reminder that keeping vigilant and courageous has its costs.

Of course, we don't need to be reminded. We are in a similar era. Our fear and safely needs are being exploited on a daily basis. In this din of warnings, people tend to cower, acquiesce to the powers that be in order to be assured of their safety. While safety is not such a bad thing, being safe at the price of freedom is.

We must be diligent in two directions simultaneously. We must be witness to the erosion of our freedoms and to the threat to our lives. Indeed, there are those in this world who would kill us, so afraid they are of change. Yet to become them is not progression but regression. In order to be safe and free, we must be without hindrance.

How to be without hindrance? Practice Zazen.

Be well.

Three Years

With palms together,
Good Morning Sangha,


Please take a few minutes today and consider peace. This is the third anniversary of our invasion of Iraq. Peace happens when we become peace. To become peace means to become complete within ourselves and others. Our practice, Zazen, Kinhin, Samu, Oryoki: all are peacemaking practices. They are practices that teach us serenity in a flood of world activity.

When we sit, we sit. When we walk, we walk. When we work, we work. When we eat, we eat. Nothing special. Nothing added. We are serene reflection in motion.

To be at war is to be at conflict and to be angry, greedy, and deluded. Who wishes to walk that path?

Today, please take a small sign that simply reads "Peace." Go outside and stand.

Be well.