Joy

With palms together,


Good Morning Everyone,



Someone wrote to me recently and suggested that I might pause to find the joy in my life. It seems to readers, I suppose, that I have been dwelling on the pain and suffering of my life to the exclusion of my pleasure and joy. This is an important point. The truth is, however, I have a tremendous amount of joy in my life, but like many of us, I do not speak of it very often or very plainly. And that, my friends, is a serious omission. Let me recount just three of my joys.

My joy begins and ends (as each day does) with my fiancée, Kathryn, who has brought such light into my life that it is difficult to give it justice in words. I often watch her sleep and in this witness I am reminded of all things beautiful. She sleeps with such innocence and such peace. In the morning I sometimes cradle her until she wakes. As she snuggles closer I feel my heartbeat increase. This is life itself.

Sitting outside in the early morning feeling the chilled, moist air on my skin, I feel awake and alive: such pleasure in such a simple thing. Suki often joins me by slipping onto my lap with a stealth only dogs seem to possess. We sit together and scan the space before us. My mind is in the stars; hers rests upon the ground in front of us. I feel her warmth on my lap and am reminded that it is cold outside. We go in through the doors and the pleasure of the warmth of the house wraps around me and takes the chill away from my body.

Of course there is the pleasure of my motorcycle. What can I say? Each and every time I turn on the ignition and hear that engine fire up, I feel a sense of excitement. There are very few pleasures matching the feel of acceleration in the open air on two wheels. I love the feel of the gas tank, smooth, yet firm, between my knees as together, the bike and I roll out the drive and onto the street.

To quote once more, Rev, Okumura,”…nirvana is not something special, just an ordinary way of life.” We should take every moment and embrace it as if there is no other, because in truth, it is, indeed, the only life we have and this moment is where we reside.

I have learnt nothing from my practice of zazen if I fail to take my place in each moment both on and off the cushion, accepting life as it is.

Be well

Ability

With palms together,


Good Morning Everyone,



"This was the turning point of my practice. I became free of my own practice. I became free of my teacher's teaching and the Buddha's teaching. I just settled down in the reality where I was and practiced as much as possible. This is really peaceful practice. You don't need to compete. Just settle down. If I hadn't had physical problems, I don't think my practice would have changed. I thought I was a great Zen master, but fortunately or unfortunately that didn't happen. Adverse experience gave me a broader view of the Dharma. I am really grateful for that. This is bodhisattva practice." (Okumura-roshi, Living by Vow, p.192)



Okumura makes a wonderful confession in this text. His pain, a result of years of sitting, hard physical labor, and the need to practice begging for food and money in Japan, forced him to assess his practice. He found that his determined practice was itself a desire, a goal, and that when he could no longer do it he saw it more clearly and was able to be gentler --- and more authentic --- with his practice.



We often come to the cushion with an aspiration of sorts. We will sit zazen for 25 minutes, we will practice kinhin 5 minutes, and we will sit zazen again, and so on. We do this because we are trained to do it. We are taught this is the way. I suggest It is a way, but not the only way. Moreover, such practice when come to with a sense of righteousness is no longer practice, but rather, advertisement.



My own experience with severe back pain, the result of lumbar spinal Stenosis, caused me to feel a great deal of embarrassment in the Zendo as I was unable to sit, unable to walk, unable to perform the forms required in our services. I had to sit outside where I could move freely. I had to use a cane and sometimes a walker and I simply could not stand at the altar for more than a few brief seconds. I had to examine for own feelings as a priest crippled in full view of the sangha. I thought I was a bad example. I thought, “What will people think?” as I would leave the Zendo for the back porch. All of my thoughts and feelings were a result of believing I was “supposed” to be a certain way and that if my practice were to be an example I could not actually offer, what was I?



It turns out I am a human being. I have pain. I have joy. I have flaws. I also have the ability to adjust my practice, to become more “peaceful” in my practice. As with Okumura, I am grateful for the teaching of disability.



Be well.

Art Practice

With palms together,


Good Morning Everyone,



My easel is empty. I finished the painting I was working on and hung it in our living room, which has become a gallery of sorts. Over the last three days I sold three paintings, a very good thing as I was nearly broke. The three were small paintings and sold for $75.00 each. I find it hard to ask more and my most expensive piece is “only” $250.00. For many today, that is not a lot of money for a painting, for many others (including myself) this is a lot of money. No matter: I continue to paint and occasionally sell something and this process pleases me greatly because I see art as practice and it is so wonderful to see people enjoy my work and be able to afford to buy it for their homes.



I had a short discussion with a retired art professor friend yesterday on Facebook messenger. I wondered in what sort of style he thought my paintings were. I told him I saw my art as “Impressionistic” and wondered what he thought. He told me such labels were essentially meaningless in today’s art world, but that such labels in earlier decades were often applied by critics who used such words to deride an artist’s work. He suggested I not think of my work in some category or style. I told him the only reason I was asking was that others ask me and that I wasn’t at all sure how to respond. I usually say, “I just put paint on a canvas.” He thought that was as good as any answer.



The couple who came over last night to look at my paintings had, of course, questions about the paintings, “What is this?” the man asked. “What did you have in mind here?” he continued. He liked the paintings very much and, I suppose, wanted to understand where I was coming from when I painted them. I am always caught off-guard with such questions because I really don’t know the answers. As I said, I just put paint on a canvas and look to see what happens. I am learning this is not a very satisfactory answer for those who ask, yet it’s the truth of the matter.



I see art practice as rather like Zazen. We initially come to the canvas, like the cushion, with an idea in mind. In art we want to express something, we might have an idea for a piece, or something like that. Approaching the Zendo we might want to become a better person, perhaps less stressed or maybe less angry. Or we come seeking a spiritual path that might lead to some sort of awakening. As I explained to a student yesterday, it’s rather like going through a door. Approaching the door we have a “gaining” idea, once through the door, we sit with no idea. So while motivated to come to the Zendo by some goal we might have in mind, once in the Zendo we practice with no goal. This means we have to leave what we know at the door itself and enter with a “don’t know” mind. This is excellent advice for approaching our work, families, and friends. It’s also good advice for play, study, and, yes, art.

Zendo

With palms together,


Good Morning Everyone,



It’s a Saturday morning and we will practice Zazen together tomorrow morning in our Zendo. I am concerned that our numbers are dwindling. Zen practice as a Sangha is very important to our development as followers of the Great Way laid out by the Buddha himself. Just as we take refuge in the Buddha and the Dharma, so too, we take refuge in the Sangha.



Over the years I have noticed how practicing Sanghas increase and decrease in terms of Zendo participation. I have noticed how Study Groups come and go and in this I am often caught by the question, “What’s this?” I look at myself. Is there something I am doing or not doing that would account for the dwindling numbers? In truth, I doubt it. I think it is the practice itself and the relative centrality of the practice that is the root cause. Zazen is very difficult and we come to the Zendo often hoping that the practice will make ourselves or our lives better and when it does not or we fail to see any real change, we easily abandon it.



As abbot of our Order I feel Zazen with the Sangha should be at the center, or near center, of our lives as Refuge Holders or Precept Holders. Through our practice together we have the benefit of the group’s energy. We have the benefit of the teaching by a teacher. More importantly, however, we derive the benefit of commitment and a resolve to surrender to that commitment. I am therefore encouraging each of my readers to find the resolve to attend a formal Zen Service in your community. If none exists, create a Sitting Group. There are guidelines for this on our website at http://clearmindzen.org.



For those of you in Las Cruces, please consider joining us tomorrow as we sit down, shut up, and practice together. I won’t promise cookies and coffee afterwards, but I will promise that honoring a commitment to take refuge in the Sangha will strengthen you.



Be well

No Cold, No Heat

With respect to all,




Waking early is an excellent practice. The early morning allows me to be without the distractions of traffic, phones, and light. Outside, the air is cool and there are few sounds, save a rooster or two in the distance. I open myself to what is: no eye, no ear, no nose, no heat, no cold...in a sense, this is what it is like to have mind and body fall away. Alone in the courtyard, a sliver, of moon with a million stars over my head, thoughts come and go easily. Yet, as I sit on the courtyard tiles, I notice their cold feel. Mind and body return. Life is like that.



The coming and going, ebb and flow of feeling and thought, are my existence just then. Looking at the stars I am with all others who have, throughout time and space, gazed upon them. There is a brief recognition of the infinite reality of the universe: Infinite, finite, and so on.



Cold air seeps in through my robe. I notice my left hand, partially paralyzed by a bullet in my brain so long ago, is getting colder. Soon it is time to rise up and go back inside the house where it will slowly warm, but more slowly and less completely than the rest of my body.



Now, sitting at my desk in the studio, I feel once again home and the musings of the infinite fade away. Coming and going, the cycle is ceaseless and seamless.



Be well.



Clear Mind Zen Temple Notes:



Thursday evening Zazen will now include chanting the Heart Sutra, Tea Service, Dharma Talk and two periods of Zazen followed by our closing ceremonies.



We will begin at 7:00 PM and conclude by 8:30 PM.



Please consider joining us for this weekly practice opportunity.

Connections

With palms together,


Good Morning All,



This morning I reviewed the headlines on CNN, Huff Post, and Yahoo News, and I must say, the world is still there as it has always been, but why on earth did Monopoly get rid of the “Iron” token? I just don’t get it. Here was a piece that always reminded me of my grandmother’s ironing with one of those cast iron Irons heated on a cook stove. Pleasant memories of a time when people made do, worked hard, and lived in accordance with the natural rhythm of things. How very Zen of them!

For three years I lived like that at my Mountain Refuge, making a fire in the wood stove early in the morning, preparing breakfast from scratch, chopping wood, feeding my horses, and going to bed just after sundown as I had no electricity. Life at the Refuge was slow and in accordance with the natural cycles of the seasons. It was hard, but there was a sweet flow to it as I often spent time on the deck in the mornings watching the sun peak through the pines and having conversations with the stellar jays or hummingbirds. I think that time helped me a great deal to strengthen my practice, sitting Zazen alone as I did at my altar or on the slats of the wooden deck. I miss it very much.

Yet, here I am today with devices surrounding me, connecting me to a larger and larger world, but to what end? I know the connections possible with smart phones, PCs, and tablets can reveal our interconnected and interdependent nature, but I often reflect, as I scan through Facebook posts, texts, and email, just how much we seem to squander our time on the superficial and mundane. Yet, maybe this is necessary as it reveals our very human need to connect and share with others the details of our lives.

I know when I lived in the mountains far away from others, others seemed, as they were, far away. My connections there were to the maul I used to chop cedar, the alfalfa I fed the horses, and whether it was to rain that day demanding then a furious effort to collect the rain water so precious for survival.

It seems the common denominator, then, is connection. We human beings do not live as solitary individuals, we live in connection. It is my willingness to value those connections that seems most important to me. And maybe they are to you, as well.



Be well

Support for our Temple

With palms together and begging bowl in hand,




It is that time of month that I pick up my begging bowl and ask for your generosity in support of our Temple. Will you please offer something? Donate in person or through PayPal on our Order's website at www.clearmindzen.org.



Our mailing address is:



Order of Clear Mind Zen

642 South Alameda Blvd., Suite E

Las Cruces, NM 88005



We appreciate the time and money you offer. Thank you very much.

Gassho