A Sunday supplement magazine, published in March this year, on Mental Health fell into my mail slot. As tired as I was on Sunday afternoon I read it cover to cover. It is through this magazine I learned about the ground breaking work and compassionate approach of Dr. Rufus May, a young Clinical Psychologist and former psychiatric patient. There are many articles written by him on the Internet, a number of interviews too. And within all of what he describes, he retains a sense of humour. This publicity stunt reflect that.

August 2006: As a teenager with schizophrenia he saw the mental health system brutalise patients. He became a doctor to change things from within. Now he is pushing a bed from London to Brighton.

Dr Rufus May and a group of fellow campaigners will tomorrow start pushing a bed from Brighton to London to raise awareness of the forced use of drugs and ECT in psychiatric hospitals. The bed, complete with a dummy patient, will be chased by a giant syringe. There will also be an ECT machine offering free “treatments” to the general public.

Yesterday it was my turn to lead the monthly festival ceremony. We celebrated the life and teaching of Dogen, and then afterwards I gave a talk to the gathered community and visting guests. Now it’s time to pack up the very many books I’ve been reading of Zen Master Dogens writings, and the commentaries on his writings, and file away my own voluminous notes on Dogen.

Over the last month I’ve gained a greater appreciation of our first Japanese Ancestor and his particular contribution to Buddhist thought and practice. In the statement the celebrant makes at the time of offering incense at the beginning of the ceremony I used the word stupendous to describe Dogen. While I do not find myself adequately equipped to wax lyrical, or write in detail about his teaching I can at least stand and cheer. He was stupendous, awesome in fact. That, however, is all to no avail if we were not to put his teaching into practice. That would make for a hollow cheer would it not? Here is the blessing verse:

This ceremony is offered in memory of the Great Priest, Eihei Dogen. First Japanese Ancestor and a stupendous figure in our Dharma Family.

“Time flies quicker than an arrow and life passes with greater transience than dew. The life of this one day, to-day, is absolutely vital life.”

Let us daily express gratitude. Let us keep alive the Smile of Shakyamuni Buddha as well as the Smile of all the Buddhas and Ancestors of present, past and future.
Blessing statement for Dogen Day, 2007.

The table where I studied while in Wales on retreat in May.

This poem is from The Sounds of Valleys and the Forms of Mountains, a chapter of the Shobogenzo by Zen Master Dogen. The poem speaks of how nature ‘speaks’ when we are full ready to hear. This is possible because of the Buddhist teaching of the fundamental non separation of ear and sound, mind and matter.

It dawned on me why I was so caught up in the film about the Giant Hornets and the honey bees the other day. I remembered a short poem I’d written early in life which started, Bee and me we are One! Well, it was a start! I had no religious context through which to understand the sense of unity I experienced while watching a bumble bee one idle summers day. The impression however was a lasting one.

It’s not unusual for people to speak of a profound sense of unity they felt with existence while out in the wilds, or elsewhere. Very often people spend their lives trying to find an explanation for such experiences. Some take up a formal religious practice and realise a window onto the way things are opened briefly. They can then let go and move on.

It’s always cheering to see that another person is attempting to establish a regular meditation practice. Just sitting may be simple however it is not easy. And especially not easy to keep up a practice alone.

Well done, keep going.

It’s amazing how the heart sings when you’ve done something right!

Ever since I’ve been back here at Throssel my brown hat has been lost and found many times. Other people have walked off with it, I’ve walked off with similar looking hats only to find it belongs to somebody else. If a hat goes missing I seem to be first on the list to check with. Did you take my hat by mistake Rev. Mugo? I’ve got a bit of a reputation for walking off in other peoples coats too, they all look much the same in the gloom of the evening cloister after meditation.

Sometimes I’ve wondered if the hat I have now is really ‘mine’, but that has all changed. On Tuesday, while fending off a cold, I occupied myself sewing in name labels. My brown hat was top of the list. All those items I least want to loose track of, socks for example, are now labeled as well. Now I can reast easy knowing my hat will return to me, eventually. Why, only this very morning it went walk-about and returned in under eight hours. It’s a record!

So, when my hat went missing I broke out into silent song:
I’ve not-got that sinkin’ feelin’, now you’ve gone, gone, gone! But looking up the song I thought I was alluding to I find the lyrics are not even close. Ah well…

I’m reminded of a birthday card my dad once sent me of Wallace, of Wallace and Gromit, in the wrong trousers. Wallace had such a look of dismay on his face and I guess my dad empathized. Perhaps he’d put on the wrong trousers at some point in his life.