The Buddhist challenge
The Buddhist challenge to conventional Western notions of spirituality illuminates the way we set flesh and spirit at war with each other. In Buddhism there is no original sin. Although noticing how we express our sexuality can certainly lead to an awareness of right conduct, the flesh is not regarded as representing a corruption or punishment of any kind, nor as an obstacle to the attainment of enlightenment. The root of human suffering is not sin, but our confusion about ego. We suffer because we believe in the existence of an individual self. This belief splits the world into “I” and “other.”
–Stephen Butterfield, Tricycle: The Buddhist Review, Vol. I, #4
West Eats Meat
Adolf Hitler was a vegetarian; the Dalai Lama, the embodiment of
compassion, eats meat by his doctors’ orders. Clearly, there’s more to
mind than what is put into the mouth: yet, as long as food remains a
fundamental part of life, these choices are a proper focus of
spiritual awareness. Every bite of macaroni contains choices about
culture, history, meaning–even the “Nutrition Facts” newly listed on
every U.S. noodle box have resonances for us that spread as far as
asceticism, sin, compassion, the place of science in our beliefs, and
the importance of supporting one’s own well-being along with that of
others. So what should a Buddhist eat?
--Kate Wheeler, Tricycle: The Buddhist Review Winter 1994
from Everyday Mind, edited by Jean Smith, a Tricycle book
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beauty is not a matter of ripe/not ripe
on friday decanted a tincture of Horse Tail – Equisetum arvense. also decanted the last St.johns wort oils. worked on some new poems yesterday and sent out some stuff to different publishers. Osprey Journal, Eleutheria:Scottish Poetry Review http://www.scottishpoetryreview.com/ and shitcreek review http://shitcreek.auszine.com/- which have accepted previous submissions. new venues ; Calliope Nerve http://calliopenerve.blogspot.com/, Spine Writers http://www.spinewriters.com/ . Have yet to get around to the rest of my list which includes poetry warrior, RATTLE, and a delightful sit called A Handful of Stones http://www.ahandfulofstones.com/
Any way change of venue has been the theme of the past week or so. sign the new lease or not? the day it was due got a phone call about a place we looked at last summer, a renovated gate lodge, lovely but too pricey. so now i get a call about maybe we could negotiate a little. not sure if it works out but its a lovely place and the woman who owns and renovated it is very pleasant, friendly – you know a nice person vibe. shelly is getting job offers from the states and Saudi arabia. and its autumn and its the season of change and high energy. and Morgans birthday is Halloween, Brendons birthday is the 19th. Shelly has teaching offers for her yoga/Pilates/women’s health gigs in Connecticut for november. and me i’m making bread and tinctures and writing the endless poem that all poetry is a part of. and buddhas doing well and the practise of yoga, tonglen, meditation, and the pacification of ego – all practise all day all moments all opportunity.
Todays tip:
take advantage of al least one of the opportunities offerd to you today by the world to be kind. ok maybe you could try more than one? maybe one for other humans,one for other creatures, one for so called inanimate oblects.
sssh...
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if we truly see the world as it is our hearts would break.
and if our hard and well protected heart were broken
then they would become truly soft.
what if we all treated the world with softness,
the natural softness of the human heart?
is that buddha
is that christ,
is that the goddess
it that Allah,
god, Krishna
Zeus?
i dont know but it could be us
and if were us, what would our world look like then?
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finally got to go to work. spent a few hours cutting grass in the village. done just before the showers. home with shelly for lunch and then pick up the child from school. homework, meal prep, walk down by the lake. tomorrow we’ll go to town, watch Morgan swimming lesson and then do a grocery shop – picking up some vodka for hawthorn tincture. tired now but in a good way. an evening yoga before bed, again the music of real silence, in other words whatever sounds there may be.
the duck of sport, love & compassion with the buddha
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The Whole Day
-the whole day is practice.
lough lene
As Long As
-as long as we are in the present moment, we are relaxed. -– Ringu Tulku
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there is a beauty even in the grey
drag of a grey morning, hard to shift the black dog off the bed. saved my life by blowing off work – couldnt get much done in the rain anyway, and keeping the practise alive kept me alive.
todays yoga music by Imee Ooi, her recording of The Chant Of Metta
http://www.immmusic.com/product/eng/product.htm
finally a long shower and shave and feeling human again. but the afternoon the sun as if in answer breaks through. even the cat has found a dry spot out by the hedge to curl up and dream in. so Morgans home from school and shelly from teaching the a.m. Pilates class and the dog is mad to go for a walk so after homework we’ll treat ourselves to a walk by the lake. get some photos, get so earth under our feet, get some of whatever it is we’re meant to see.
earlier this year
todays tip: remember practise is a way of living, not dependent on mood or weather. do not turn it into a negotiable thing
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decanted another batch of st. johns. picked some more elderberries for making gifts for friends and family. still havent figured out what to do with the sloes. they arent ready to pick until the first hard frost which i hope is still a ways off. shelly is going to find a recipe for the rowan fruits so that will have some jam to go with my new bread making skills. as soon as we get a jug of vodka we can put up some hawthorn tincture.
tried to get some work done do in the village today but a sharp wind and bit of rain made it a no go. spent some time at the church yard. visiting those that have gone on. thinking about the autumn of the year and of my own years.
nameless red rose
back home round lunch time. sun broke through at about half two. hence the berry picking as well as cutting another rose from the just joey and some of the nameless red rose i got for two euros this past spring. so far it must have had two dozen flowers.
just joey and buddha
todays yoga music was silence, not the perfect kind, the real kind, you know the silence of wind blowing hedges against the house, dogs barking in the distance the occasional twitter of small birds, my own steady breath, the shadows moving with the afternoon sun and passing whispers of now white clouds.
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