Journal

Monday, May 14, 2012




Riding America’s highways outside of the box can be exhilarating, scary, and sometimes dangerous. I am in Covington, Ga. right now in a very cheap hotel. Hotels can be cheap, but adequate. This is skimming the bottom. The AC works, but barely, and not without a grinding effort. The room is musty. But the bathtub is clean and the sheets appear the same. So, I will stay the night, get up early, and try to make it to Wilmington tomorrow. I see by the weather report that it might storm there, so maybe another cheap hotel is in the picture.



This morning I had some orange juice and coffee at a Mickey D’s (they all have WiFi) and sat outside with some homeless men who were having some sort of gathering. They were quite salty in their language and one had a small dog. They were talking about what they needed. To a man, a V was high on the list. How often have I said with a little too much pride, that we don’t have a TV. With us it’s a choice, not so with them. The group dissolve each going in separate directions looking for rides to nowhere. As I headed on to the Interstate, the man with dog was walking up the ramp.



We are so fortunate.

Be well.

Journal

Wednesday, May 10, 2012

I pulled into Ozona, Texas hurting . The trek from Fort Stanton to Ozona was 108 miles. My body was aching from the morning side of the run in cold, overcast skies. Then the sun came out and this made all the difference. But, by this time I was already tense and my lower back and shoulders were on fire. Fun? Not! About twenty miles outside of Ozona, the overcast skies returned along with some rain and wet roads: tension returned.

Along the way I stopped for gasoline at a remote little store. A guy named Chris, sporting a skull-tee and jeans greeted me at the door (I am walking with a cane) and helped me in. I bought some aspirin and a cup of coffee. We sat outside on a stool he provided, and talked motorcycles. He was a genuine young man and spoke with love of machines. He pointed to his car and told me in detail all the work he had himself done. I was thoroughly impressed with his kindness. It made the misery of the rain and cold melt away. So far, everyone I have spoken to has been both curious and impressed with my ride. I put these words into the context that suggests America is a wonderful place filled with wonderful people…if we get to know them.

So, now, after writing this, chatting with Soku Shin and Disciple Dai Shugyo, and a hot bath, I am much revived. The weather looks better for tomorrow as I head to Lake Charles, LA.

Journal

With palms together,


Tuesday, 7:30 PM

My leg has been healing, but tires easily when asked to support my weight. Just now, after a long day mostly on my feet, it is screaming. I let it scream. Disciple Daishugyo gave me a collapsible cane. I will store it on top of one of my saddlebags. My bags are nearly packed, the Sportster is finally ready, and it is raining. A check of the weather east of here reveals storms arising. They seem to be heading east, so it is relatively safe to say I will remain behind them. I am ready to begin this journey and face what arises along the way.

Wednesday, 2:40 AM

Packing my bags, checking them twice. It’s important not to over pack. I learned a long time ago not to take too much. Most everything I will actually need, I will have packed, then reduced, as these may be purchased along the route if they are really needed. I am taking three changes of clothes, shaver, deodorant, toothpaste & brush, flashlight, mini binoculars, 2 disposable chemical ice packs, my meds, extra gallon sized Ziploc baggies, device chargers, light jacket, leather MC jacket, and vest. I am also taking my sleeping bag and ground cloth.

I have checked the driving weather forecast for Mesilla to San Antonio and it looks good. As I saw last night, the storms are in front of me moving east. I will have fresh air, washed by the rain, and warm temperatures. My plan is to ride five to six hours in a day at about 60-65 mph, stopping every hour or so for a walk break. It is important on trips like this not to be in any hurry at all.

Evening. Weather could not have been more wrong. It began a light rain outside of El Paso and gradually got worse. Rain, wind and cold took its toll on me. I stopped in Sierra Blanca, about a hundred miles inside the Great State of Texas, and I took refuge in a cheap motel. The heater is drying my clothes and helping my body recover. Maybe tomorrow will be better. Along the way I couldn’t help thinking this was a little over the top.

Doing this ride will be a challenge. Am I up for it? Zen requires no thought, we simply do.In this case one mile at a time.

Approaching Perfection

With respect,


Good Afternoon Everyone,



Patience. It’s a wonderful thing, I think, but do I actually know it is so? Not really. I try to practice patience, but whenever I do its like other things Buddhist, I feel as though I am pretending. This is not correct, as our Japanese or Korean Masters would be quick to tell us. Paramitas, like the precepts, come from the inside out.



We say, “just be” the paramitas, fine, I should “just be” patience. Right. There are times, more often than I care to admit, that I am simply unable to “just be” anything approaching an “excellence,” I am just the person I am in the moment I am. From that point of view, that has to be enough.



Perhaps I am impatient, hurt, or angry. Perhaps sad, depressed, or jealous. The most important point is to be aware while not holding onto the feeling or thoughts about the feeling in the moment itself. This is authenticity.



We know from cognitive therapy that thoughts, feelings, and behavior are interconnected. Changing a behavior affects a thought or feeling. This lends much credence to the old saying, “fake it till you make it.” So, it doesn’t matter all that much, from this perspective, if we are faking patience, what matters is that we do patience and examine ourselves in the process. In the process itself, we become patience and sooner or later it becomes authentic.



Be well.

Zen of Disability, On-going

With respect,


Good Morning Everyone,

As many of you know, I have been suffering from a pulled back muscle and inflamed piriformis nerve This makes it very difficult to walk. Soku Shin has been a marvelous help while I have been unable to do much around the house. This led to a few thoughts and feelings about disability, something I have managed now for some 45 years. Being disabled is a curious practice point. Some disabilities are invisible, as were mine for some time. Of late, however, they are becoming more visibly evident due to the fact that my paralysis is returning. My leg and foot do not work well together and they certainly are not very connected to my brain. So, I stumble more and more frequently and the AFO doesn’t help as much as it used to. This stumbling inflames my left hip joint and sets off a cascade of neurological issues.

As a result I’ve noticed people looking at me as I try to walk in stores, stumble, recover, and continue to wobble. The looks are those of suspicion. Interesting, isn’t it, how we look at those who stand out as suspect?

Part of the challenge of disability, a big part, is how others respond to it. Where compassion ought be, resides instead, a prejudicial suspicion. We who are disabled are not your kin. We are suspect. Different. So it goes.

I have rarely, if ever, allowed my disabilities to have a place in my decision-making regarding how I chose to live my life. I decide to paint, I paint. I decide to run a marathon, I train and run a marathon. I always find a way to overcome the obstacles. Lately, however, it is becoming more and more difficult to find a way around or through my body’s challenges. Moreover, the time it takes to heal seems to be longer and longer. The result is I am left to ponder the possibilities of life with infirmities which must be included in the decision-making.

In a very real way, there is no such thing as a “disability.” Such words only point to our construct of “able” and this construct acts as a measure. Take away the construct and we have left only that which we do or don’t do. Zen is about action. It is being completely in the moment without regard for the constructs whether individually or socially.

After a massage workout with Cloud I am feeling a lot better and am able to walk again without a crutch, although I am using one right now to help me avoid re-injuring the muscles which would once again inflame the nerves.

It’s all good.

Be well.

April 20, 2012

With respect, Good Morning All,




It occurs to me that we are in a marvelous period of time. Of course all periods of time are wonderful, but we are in this one right now and that makes it delicious. Life is to be chewed on, savored, and otherwise deeply appreciated. This is hard to do if we are never exactly present in the moment we are alive. What moment is that? Whack! This one.







I am sitting in the dark of our living room in the early morning. I have already done my laundry, shaved my head (I cannot believe I let my hair grow out so much!), and made the morning coffee...some of which I am enjoying as I type. Today is packed with student interviews, a presentation at NMSU, and Zazen. I am looking forward to getting it done, one thing at a time.







In a week or two I will be packing up my motorcycle and heading east. I plan to visit a student or two and end up in Wilmington, NC to visit my son and hgis family.I have done several long distance motorcycle adsventures, but I am much older now and so this adventure will definately be at a snail's pace. I will post as I go. Sharing the ride with each of you.







Zazen on Sunday at 10:00 AM!







Be well.

April 9

With respect,




Good Morning All,







It is quiet here in the Mesilla Valley. Other than an occasional car, birdsong is all that breaks the silence. We have just concluded our Hanamatsuri Sesshin and just afterwards, Soku Shin and I took the Hugger to Hatch and back. The Hugger is our Harley Davidson Sportster. It is the 883 version, but still packs cool power as we took the secondary road to Hatch where we ate green chilli at Sparky's.







In honor of this new addition to our family, I bought still another copy of Zen & the Art of Motorcycle Maintainance, that wonderful book by Pirsig that asks us to slow down and pay attention. Pirsig offers a slow, delicious ride into the everyday while on a long distance ride with friends and his son. He calls these lessons Chautauquas and asks us to explore our world deeply. This exploration, however, is not esoteric or exotic, it is based in the everyday.







What can we know about anything without directly experiencing it?







Be well.