Tuesday, March 30, 2021
Monday, March 29, 2021
What do you say when there is nothing to say. A tragedy strikes your friend when her loved one passes on. Whatever you want to say won’t bring them back and won’t comfort. And yet if you say nothing you worry that they’ll think you didn’t care. You bring them a flower. Your eyes meet. Then they glance at the flower and you discern a faint smile. Did they smile at the flower? Or was it a smile at your gesture? Or was it simply a smile at the connection? Did Kashyapa really smile at the flower? The flower didn’t need a smile. But your friend did. Perhaps the smile was a meta smile, from millions of miles away, a smile recognizing what would take more words than the sands of the Ganges to express.
Saturday, March 27, 2021
Friday, March 26, 2021
Wednesday, March 17, 2021
Sunday, March 14, 2021
Saturday, March 13, 2021
As a Boy Scout, I worshipped the “be prepared” motto. It was my way to deal with life. The want-to-be monks at the Flower Sermon were well-prepared. They knew the Dharma and had a solid meditation practice. Yet when Buddha admired the flower their preparedness blocked their transmission. But what about Kasjapa? His mind was open and fertile. Buddha transmitted with him because Kasjapa didn’t have any expectations. He was fortunately un(der)prepared. That's virtuosity.
Friday, March 12, 2021
Cousin Brian wrote, “He held up all flowers everywhere.” When I imagine all that know this story of the Buddha holding up a flower, I can see all flowers being held up simultaneously, throughout space and time. Not only am I holding up a lotus, but so did those who preceded me as did my children and their children. Flowers filled the room. Flowers filled outside the room as far as Kashyapa could see. There was nothing but flowers.
Thursday, March 11, 2021
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...