No it isn't cold like "up north." My mind is frozen. I don't have any ideas today. I was going to write again about how some want to keep their money and some want to give it away. And we all know who will go to Heaven and who won't, right? Honestly, sure there are people who are more generous than others, but that isn't the issue. Some believe that handouts are not what the needy need. Or maybe a combination of handouts, education, and love. I don't know. I just don't like the assumption that "do gooding" is the only way that will give you a long healthy eternal life.
But I'm not going to write about that. I went to the posh Central Market today and looking longingly at the fish. I even put a can of tuna into my shopping cart, walked completely around the store, and then put it back. I tried to tell myself since the tuna was dead I wasn't killing it... then I realized that I was becoming a boor about not hurting my fair feathered and finned friends... so I wouldn't write about that.
Ok, no politics and no PETA... what is left? We have the kid from Tucson who smiled at inopportune moments. Sounded a little Zen to me... appreciating each moment for what it was. As opposed to the concept of the "decisive moment" maybe all moments, as all people, are worth their weight in gold, as the expression goes. I'm not sure that the really insane and the really sane wouldn't think the same thoughts. I had an insane friend who went through one episode where he believed he was Jesus. And I hear Zen priests tell us that we are buddha. Too close for comfort?
So enough for no ideas for the day. Tomorrow I take my brakes in for a recall (Honda this time), then zazen, then the start of my second series of tea ceremony classes. My wife asked why I would want to torture myself again (I'm a slow learner) and I said, "because tea is the most important thing you can do." Funny thing is... I don't even drink the stuff. Luckily, the host doesn't make tea for themselves... just for the guest.
To Kim Mosley ’s “Meteor” on the Eve of the Election Ooh, coming right at us the slam! It hurls us upside down and sideways splas...
Pulse The pulsing sounds of color reverberate in kaleidoscopic bits that scatter in pieces of beat, strands of band, shards of bard,...
I was going to write something about the difference between grieving and compassion. If we are all suffering, as Buddha surmised, then w...