Dispose of Socrates

Heard a dharma talk today about the heart and the mind, and that space below the heart where anger and rage reside. The priest said that when anger and rage move into the heart they disappear. I also learned today that the Chinese have a symbol for heart and mind together. I like that, since (as you probably noticed) I'm a fan of both. Socrates taught the West that all can be understood with rational thought. The poets explain the world through images. Rather than disposing of Socrates, I'm really looking for a way to merge the two — heart and mind, Socrates and Homer.

Non-discursive Thinking

After 40 minutes of zazen, wrestling in my mind with how one might do non-discursive thinking, I was saved by the bell. Then, some refreshments. I told a priest standing around that I'd been thinking about non-discursive thinking. He smiled and I got it. That doesn't work either.

Guess it is back to the drawing board.

Big Trouble/Little Trouble

Lessons of Perspective

I was going to write about my Buddhist sewing class tonight. We all had our troubles. Some (like myself) had to redo lines of stitches because the corner was folded the wrong way. Another one of us cut through his fabric trying to trim an edge. In the next room, a seasoned sewer was trying to hold down a ruler on some slick silk. And our dear teacher was feeling so bad she could neither stand or sit. If the world was in a state of unrest and havoc, then CNN could have covered our epoch in Austin.

So I came home and heated up some soup for dinner.... and started watching CNN's great coverage of the devastation of Haiti. Suddenly our sewing troubles disappeared. We live in a society with a semblance of order. I know where I'll sleep tonight, and know that I'll have good food tomorrow. I realize how fortunate I am to have the luxury to be able to fret about such little things as a few stitches in the wrong place.

I remember as a kid learning about miles, and then light years. Suddenly the mile (made up of countless inches) was diminished to a mere inch when compared to a light year. Haiti teaches us that our most severe problems don't even challenge what that poor country has endured. And that poor country is not alone in this world.

Tomorrow the pest control man is going to come to our house. In an effort to save my artwork from the hungry mouths of insects, their world will become toxic tomorrow. Another Port-au-Prince in the walls of my house.

I tell myself "tragedy dissipates." The last earthquake of this magnitude in Haiti was in the 18th century and 300 years later it was almost forgotten. Another tragedy will come and we'll shift our compassion to another location.

I wonder how to end this post on a positive note. Was it funny to be worried because we sewed a crooked line that was supposed to be straight? And how much shame should we feel when we are bent out of shape with such little things? How much gratitude should be feel because we can engage in such trivial pursuits? And how much gratitude to be surrounded with these lessons of perspective?

(The sewing is a Buddhist Rokasu, designed by the Buddha when he was asked what a robe should look like. He pointed to a rice field and said, "that." It would have been easier if he had pointed to field of snow... but do we really want things easier? Oh, the red material with the white stars is not part of the package. It just keeps her clean!)

Success

My wife and I demolished a closet that was in the corner of the garage. The success is that we didn't get hurt... not even a splinter, though the wall got some nasty dents. Tomorrow will be repair day, with a paint day following that.

More interesting is where did the closet go. We might say, "I put my clothes in the closet." Then the closet disappears. Where did it go? Some of the frame went into our neighbor's garbage can (he's out of town, though might be reading this). Some of it will go in the attic for future projects. But the closet... vanished. Apparently.

Now, more interesting is where do we go when our frame disappears? Do we simply vanish too? Are we anything but a frame around hot air?

Kids Playing

We sat two periods of zazen today, during which time there were a few kids playing in the yard next to the zendo. At first I was annoyed, because I was having my private conversations with myself, and these kids were interrupting me. Then I started to sense it was me, 55 years ago, playing, not them. I moved from the cushion to the outdoors. I realized I was existing in two "time zones" at the same time. Later, after sitting, I saw the kids through the window. They had red shirts on. No, I thought. I wasn't wearing a red shirt that day!

The Answer

We can look both ways, but we can never see what will be next.