Organ Mountain Zen



Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Walking and Talking

With palms together,
Good Morning Everyone,

Friends Allen and Eve just finished hiking a 2.8 mile out and back desert trail hike with Judy and me. Allen and I walk together, while Eve and Judy pair off, and we tend to talk about a variety of issues. I have found this to be a very cleansing habit, one that when I fail to go, I miss very much. There is much to be gained by opening one's heart to others. Of course, the other obvious benefit is in the walking itself. While I also enjoy runs alone and biking alone, long walks with a friend are of a wholly different order.

Zen, on the other hand, is a quiet, introspective practice. We sit facing a wall in silence. Talking is discouraged. Of course, this is an excellent practice, as well. It is quite possible we Americans talk entirely too much. The conversations that occur on long walks are of a very different variety. These are conversations that uncover and release; conversations that bridge and unite; conversations that deepen the bonds between human beings. Along the way, they are also conversations that free us from the bonds of ourselves. In Zen we might say we are "presenting ourselves as we will."

Many of us go along emotionally constipated. We squeak out meaningless words here and there, words without authenticity or personal import. We can even talk incessantly about nonsense. As a result we do not touch ourselves. Too bad really, we could use a little emotional Ex-lax, once in awhile. Maybe with such medicine we wouldn't be such an uptight and paranoid culture. Maybe we would actually be able to relax and enjoy the ride. And get to know ourselves more completely in the process.

For me, a desert walk with a friend three or four times a week is very much what the doctor ordered,. I would encourage us all to do the same.

Be well.

Sunday, May 17, 2009

On Pebbles and Boulders

With palms together,
Good Morning Everyone,

Many of you have privately asked about me, both in person, and via email. Thank you for your thoughtfulness and your sensitivity. I am well. Of course, life has offered both its typical and atypical stones-to-boulder's in the road, but that is to be expected. My Little Honey and I celebrated our 28th wedding anniversary yesterday. My son Jacob is in treatment for both emotional and chemical issues, the dream of a family restaurant collapsed and laid bare. We are struggling to keep the pieces and values of family together. Bronchitis and allergies haven't helped. Still, I say I am well.

Our lives are what they are: a gift to us. This gift is perfect regardless of what we think or feel about it. Every facet is a teacher, every turn, a lesson. Our challenge is to be open and present each moment.When we are willing to see this way, everything is an opportunity

This is difficult. Life can wear us down. I often want to withdraw to my Zendo or bedroom. I turn on a television show and drift away.I feel such limited energy, yet I have the experience to know that down under the stinking thinking is a vast reservoir of vitality, love, and compassion. This energy is the stuff of the universe and it is everywhere. I tapped it at mile 22 of a 26.2 mile race. I tapped it in the jungle in the middle of a firefight. I tapped it in graduate school and a thousand other places and moments during my life.

The Zen of Living is the Zen of each moment: taste life in all its flavors. Embrace life in all its forms and stages. And in each space and each step embrace peace.

May you each be a blessing in the universe.

Monday, May 11, 2009

Everyday

With palms together,
Good Morning Everyone,

The dishwasher is changed out
and the kitty litter replaced:
everyday chores, everyday Zen.
The Zen of the Everyday
is the highest and the lowest
form of practice.
It is ubiquitous.

Wake up!

Unfold your mind
and open like a flower in the morning light.
Wrap your self in extinction
and the universe is your Teacher.
This dish wounded, this one fine:
make no distinction,
only wash the dish
and put it away.


Be well.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Dharma

With palms together,
Good Morning Everyone,

Today I would like to talk to you about the Dharma. What is this thing we call "Dharma" anyway? The term has become popular to the point that there was a TV show with Dharma in it's title. Dharma comes from the Buddha's mouth. Dharma comes from the Buddha's heart. Dharma surrounds us. Everything is Dharma. Yet Dharma is nothing. It is a finger pointing to the moon.

One meaning is that Dharma is the teaching of the Buddha transmitted either 'mind to mind' or in oral history or in scripture. Another meaning of Dharma is that it is the unadorned, absolute truth. Still another, is that it is reality itself.

Dharma just is. We discover Dharma as we unfold our minds and hearts to manifest it, to receive it, and to transmit it.

Again, keep in mind, all dharmas are empty. This is to say that even the truth, even reality itself, even the Absolute, has no permanence. Everything, every idea, every thought, feeling, sensation, everything, is in process. The universe is flow.

And if flow is the essential nature of the universe, what is the Universal? Flow.

Take refuge in this.

Be well, be open.

Everyday Buddhas

With palms together,
Good Morning Everyone,

The dawn is stealth personified. Light shows itself ever so slowly, nearly imperceptibly, as dark recedes. Zazen can be like that. We sit with attention. We witness the world around us. At some point, imperceptibly so, the world and we are not the world and we, but one experience. We take this understanding from our cushion into the everyday world.

What's this?

Being in this 'world is One' state is not the final step.

What is the next step? The step that takes us back into duality with non-duality eyes.

What's this?

The dishes, experiencing no separation. The laundry, experiencing no separation. Making breakfast experiencing no separation. What is Buddha? The laundry, the dishes, the breakfast.

Dishes, laundry, breakfast are one in the same: awakened life.

We take refuge in this "awakened life", this state of non-duality.We call it Buddha Nature, and those who live it, buddhas.

This is what it means to take refuge in the Buddha.

Friday, April 17, 2009

Religious Meaning

With palms together,
Good Morning Everyone,

Our lives are filled with ritual: "religious" or "secular". Ritual is empty unless we imbue it with meaning. To imbue ritual with meaning means we live meaningfully. To live meaningfully means we must live mindfully.

So?

Most of us in the US just finished one of two holidays: Passover or Easter. How did we live these out? Were they meaningful? What did they mean to us, if anything?

In Judaism, there are tons of ritualistic rules regarding Pesach: no leaven for a week, no work on certain days, a Seder or two with a "haggadah" to tell us the story of Exodus. In Christianity, there are the ceremonies regarding the death and resurrection of Jesus, Easter dress, egg hunts, and so on.

Do these really mean anything to us? Or do we do them because we are supposed to do them? Have we actually made them not just a part of our lives, but a meaningful part?

Zen is not exempt from these questions. When I practice Zen, I light a stick of incense, place it to my forehead, bow, and carefully set in it the alter burner. I bow. I take my seat, I recite the Three Refuges and the Great Heart of Wisdom Sutra. I fold my hands into the cosmic mudra and practice shikantaza. Are these always meaningful? This is to say, do I always do them meaningfully?

Can a ritual be meaningful without practicing it meaningfully? A much deeper question.

I know a few people who actually resisted eating leavened bread for this past week. They come out the other side sometimes feeling very tired of matzoh. Understandable.

It is this sense of being tired of doing something that can give rise to the greatest meaning of the experience, I believe. For it is in that moment that the meaning questions surface. And for those who do not fast from leaven, the conclusion of Pesach can mean a similar set of questions.

In Zen, I committed to reciting the vows of a priest daily. Do I tire of them? Are they always meaningful? If I fail to honor them during the day, is that meaningful? Does it matter one way or the other if I sit zazen? How I sit zazen?

Are religious practices ever truly empty?

I don't think so. Regardless of our take on them, that take is the meaning we are creating for them, imbuing in them, and the result will offer us lessons for our life. What are your lessons?

Be well.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Open Hand

With palms together,
Good Morning Everyone,


How beautiful! The sun just broke over the mountains and lit up the valley below. It is so bright! The desert seems to yawn in its presence, roll itself over, open up, and warm itself. The birds are at our feeder. And I see a wonderful blue sky. It is supposed to become windy today. Of course, it is spring and in the desert southwest, that means windy days.

My son Jacob is in town. He is a chef, for those who don't know, and he may be moving back to Las Cruces. We are excited about this possibility. Granddaughter Sami is also here. We are thoroughly enjoying our Passover.

Yesterday we drove to White Sands and were sand-blasted. It was really interesting to try to climb the dunes in blowing sand. After a strenuous hour, the picnic lunch we brought looked terrific and we ate in the cover of wind-blocking shade canopies that cover each picnic table.

Zen is about going with the flow with a certain attitude. That attitude is openness. One must become a hand that opens and allows the wind to flow through it's fingers. If we hold up our hands in the wind and open our fingers, the air flows around and through; as we close our fingers and cup our hands, we catch the wind, offering it resistance. One case is open, needing little actual strength; the other is closed and requires great strength to keep its position. In either case, we have a hand in the wind, but in which case are we able to be truly present?

It takes great strength, though, to remain open. It is a strength of a different sort. It is the strength that comes with zazen. The strength of vulnerability. Anyone can wear a shield and feel brave; it takes true courage to go without a shield: open, vulnerable, and present.

Open your hand, feel your openness. Open your hand, feel your freedom.

For those who celebrate Easter, may your day be the blessing it is intended to be.

Be well.