The Leaf Falls

“Empty handed—the wind blows. Yet holding a rake—the leaf falls.”

We think we are ready. Ha! Every moment a surprise!

Incense Powder

“Bring me the incense powder made out of shunyata (boundlessness)."

I'm learning that simple acts can be done with such reverence. Even smiling at a person or shaking their hand. When done this way, the earth seems to stop moving for a moment and we can hear the bell permeating everywhere, even before and after.

Beginningless 4: The beginningless self-nature has been awakened.

“Seikenko of Cho composed a gatha as he was enlightened upon hearing thunder strike.
Sitting in the room in absolute silence.
Mind-source unmoved, filled like still water.
The striking of thunder has opened the gate of the head’s crown.
The beginningless self-nature has been awakened.
Present the implication or content of each line.”

Knock, knock, who's there? Maybe this awakening is just like unexposed film—lots of potential and ready for action.

Beginningless 3: The striking of thunder has opened the gate of the head's crown.

“Seikenko of Cho composed a gatha as he was enlightened upon hearing thunder strike.
Sitting in the room in absolute silence.
Mind-source unmoved, filled like still water.
The striking of thunder has opened the gate of the head’s crown.
The beginningless self-nature has been awakened.
Present the implication or content of each line.”

I like the expression “you hit it on the head.” And not only the crown, but the proturberance on the top of the head representing the status of being a Buddha. And yet, this is only an entrance, a door.

Beginningless 2: Mind-source unmoved, filled like still water.

“Seikenko of Cho composed a gatha as he was enlightened upon hearing thunder strike.
Sitting in the room in absolute silence.
Mind-source unmoved, filled like still water.
The striking of thunder has opened the gate of the head’s crown.
The beginningless self-nature has been awakened.
Present the implication or content of each line.”

It is so easy to be still when not much is happening—not even being anticipatory. We mistakenly hope that life will be like this, mistakenly because that is an invitation for disappointment.

Beginningless 1: Sitting in the room in absolute silence.

“Seikenko of Cho composed a gatha as he was enlightened upon hearing thunder strike.
Sitting in the room in absolute silence.
Mind-source unmoved, filled like still water.
The striking of thunder has opened the gate of the head’s crown.
The beginningless self-nature has been awakened.
Present the implication or content of each line.”

Absolute silence seems like a contradiction in terms. I look at the figure we (my cosmic assistant and I) drew and I look like I'm being electrocuted. I seemed to be hearing lots.

He asked how the study of the koans affected my sitting. Maybe here I could see myself so agitated—barely "sitting."

Art Class: Change, Repetition, and Variety

My first art teacher, Robert Erickson, would tell us that a work of art is finished when none of the original idea remains. This started as a test for writing words directly with my digital tablet. Then it morphed to these eight figures.

My second art teacher, for basic design, spoke of repetition and variety. Too much of one leads to boredom, and the other to chaos.

Five-Storied Pagoda 3

“Take out a five-storied pagoda from a teapot.”

Is it enough to just do a job? What state of mind is required? Dogen wrote, “...he must handle them as carefully as if they were his own eyes.” I can simply put the pagoda in the teapot—plunk!, or I can do it with the realization that this is my own eyes that I'm holding in my hands.

Five-Storied Pagoda 2

“Take out a five-storied pagoda from a teapot.”

I don't think you eat the strawberry as a last resort. Rather it is just about “being here now.“ Still, my mind was on the tigers. I couldn't enjoy the strawberry worrying about death. Odd how we might know what we might do or think... but that doesn't help.

Five-Storied Pagoda 1

“Take out a five-storied pagoda from a teapot.”

Jesus said, “With God all things are possible,” when speaking of entering the kingdom of heaven. The zen teacher Norman Fischer is a great champion of imagination. Yet I was stuck with this simple act. Again, I was trying so hard to “figure it out.”

A Stone Grave 2

“How do you get out of a stone grave which is locked from the outside?”

We speak of nirvana and samsara as both being part of life, and each being a necessary ingredient for enlightenment. What do I do when I'm in an intolerable situation? My difficulty was that I wasn't being honest.

A Stone Grave 1

“How do you get out of a stone grave which is locked on the outside?”

At first it seemed like a situation I would probably never encounter—and then realizing now, in retrospect, it is my life, being in this body and world that I have so little power over. Though I can think of death as inevitable... I could flip that and consider life—really tasting life—as a possibility.

Peel of Orange 2

“Bring me the peel of orange you ate yesterday.”

What can we really deliver? What can I bring today?

Peel of Orange 1

“Bring me the peel of orange you ate yesterday.”

I seem to be feeling around for my pillow in the dark...and not finding it. Where am I, in yesterday or in today?

When the World was Created 3

“When the world was created, what was god (the creator) like?”

The second I refer to “I,” a messy duality is born. Maybe I should adopt a pronoun like “they.” Sometimes with these koans I feel like screaming, “Stop messing with me!”

When the World was Created 2

“When the world was created, what was god (the creator) like?”

It makes sense that the head is so big in this drawing because I was so full of my head. Why didn't I see that I was simply being born, one moment ago?

When the World was Created 1

“When the world was created, what was god (the creator) like?”

I should have sympathy for those parts of my brain that are activated by such questions. Why haven't they learned to simply ask the body? So I guess I'm blaming them a little, like I might blame a kid who raises his hand in class to answer a question and who always misses the point.

A Hungry Ghost

“Save a Hungry Ghost”

Yesterday I thought about how the fulfillment of a desire doesn't end craving. Maybe it does for the first few bites, but then we start worrying about how much the ice cream cost, or whether it will make us fatter, or whether it will give us cavities. So we can't even enjoy the ice cream. Or we might, and then instantly start craving something else. Hunger isn't ended by feeding. Suffering is caused by craving, but is ended by other means than eating (i.e., the Eightfold Path).

River 2

“Stop the Fighting Across the River.”

This is a great lesson on what I can do. And hopefully, if I stop fighting, there will be a little less war.

River 1

“Stop the Fighting Across the River”

I'm surprised how agitated I appear in the drawing. Now it is almost six months after I drew this, and I see myself as the one with the peace [sic] pipe and the man sleeping on the beach as the one I'd like to be. I tried to represent the fighting as a bunch of twisted branches in a fire. I wish I could stop the fighting. And I wonder whether the fighting is really occurring.

Ol' Monk

“Without using your hands, make this old priest get up.”

I was on the phone with a grammar school and high school classmate earlier today. I asked him if he saw himself as an old person, being almost 80. He kept saying, “That's a really good question.” I said, ”Growing up, we'd call someone who was almost 80 old." “Yes,” he replied.

Thinking of these koans as tricky puzzles is where I go wrong. Better to be naive and uncomplicated.

Siblings 2

“The girl over there, is she the elder or the younger sister? If the student is a woman: That guy over there, is he the younger or older brother?”

Gradually I've been learning that there really is no “over there.” Photographers say that the subject of a photograph is the photographer. Perhaps the subject of a koan is the reader.

 

Siblings 1

“The girl over there, is she the elder or the younger sister? If the student is a woman: That guy over there, is he the younger or older brother?”

This suggested a little suspicion (paranoia?) in me when I jumped to the conclusion that maybe someone was trying to fool me, like the kid who sold me a two-headed nickel, only to discover it had been soldered together. Koans are another lesson to exhibit curiosity rather than jumping to conclusions.

Sailboat

”How do you become one with a sailboat?”

Hsin Hsin Ming: “...in this ‘not two’ nothing is separate, and nothing in the world is excluded.” In the storm, one feels part of the boat as it rocks violently from side to side.

Vimalakirti 10'x10'

Show Me an Immovable Tree in an Heavy Storm

What is the Proper Way to Display the Flag?

How's the Practice?

No Imagination

After being married to my imagination for 3/4+ of a century, I'm having trouble not doing that. When I try to become one with the sounds of the world, I have no trouble imagining horrific and pleasurable sounds (the sirens) from the past present and future. But what about dropping the stories and just being with the sounds themselves in this moment?

Buzzing, Rain on Roof, Wife's TV, Phone Ringing, More Buzzing, Clipboard Hitting Table, Coffee Mug Making Noise As Lifted Out From Holder

[With] Each with these I drop self and hear sound.

Wash Your Bowl

The Sound of the World 2

What came together today was shikantaza (just sitting), buddha fields, and the world. All are just this... whatever is right here right now (as the cliché goes). Sound is sound, but it is also any phenomenon that creates a sensation [IMHO]. The five-clouded world is on top of my ear. It is exploding my ear drum. Someday it might be so quiet that I could hear a pin drop [which I've never heard [yet].

Become 1 with the Sound of the World 1

Opps. 6 fingers. Earth on 5 GIANT cloudy day. Buddha Dharma Sangha (3 treasures).

They told us in school [with a straight face] what was the world. It wasn't where I road my bike [in the alley]. I heard sirens and saw Patty the One-arm who had a difficult birth. She reminded us how privaledged we all were. I can still see her every day walking down the street...always alone, with one arm dangling. [Next life I'll buy her a milkshake at Walgreens.]

My first intensive was at a Vietnamese monastery. I asked if you can be in the present thinking about past. A monk took an hour to answer me. He said yes, you could.