In my mirror,
birth and age
sickness and death
reflect.
Sour and sweet
bitter and hot,
true sweet dew.
Into the four forms,
my body disintegrates,
earth and fire
water and wind;
emptiness.
But like Buddha’s kindness
I am everywhere.
From Bones of the Master, by Tsung Tsai
Many thanks to Mischa for sending in this quote/poem. After long days of making arrangements for ceremonies it is good to get this uplifting piece. I sense that Iain has been everywhere, or almost. Messages are coming in with news of his kind acts. Simple acts of kindness.
This is part of what I wrote on the plane as I flew back from the States a couple of days ago. So sorry to be cutting my visiting tour short.
Reykjavik, try saying that when you’re tired! There on the map. On the screen. On the seat back. In front of me. Through the window to the right, the full moon. Full of mystery and promises. To the left the sun rises. A new day, a day that never ended, or that’s how it seems right now. I’ve had quite some hours to absorb the reality, the passing on of a dear friend and fellow traveler. His light burns still and yet Iain of Little House In The Paddy no long lives. A heart attack. Heck! That must be true or I wouldn’t be up here returning to England!
This is all rather a shock to me and to all of us who knew Iain. If you never met him I’d suggest you take a look through his blog, he is there. Bless him.
Posts may be few and far between while we do – what we do – when a Buddhist dies. What you do – when anybody dies – that’s give them a good send off. And in so doing wing their way with a loving heart.
Rev. Margaret and Orlando two
Orlando Two – stalking
Wow! what a racket late at night here in Portland. A train hooter close by, now the hum and rattle as the cavalcade goes by. American trains hauling goods. Sounds so close and maybe the line IS that close. Now the cat here at Portland, Mr. B, is tinkling his collar outside of the room I’m in. He’s a most vocal cat but there is only the tinkle. No meows at this late hour. Thankfully.
The Reverend and I have been walking regularly in the neighbourhood around the Portland Priory. Yesterday we saw eleven cats. Today just five. Orlando, all orange cats are Orlando to me, was extending himself in the most charming way. Readying for a charge across the road for a squirrel.
It is such a pleasure to spend time with my long time monastic friend. We have many interests in common, cats, vintage American cars, the Dharma. And more.
“Sit like a mountain
Stand like a pine tree
Lay down like a bow
Walk like the wind”
Walking tonight in
still evening air
What bliss!
What good fortune!
The Four Postures, sitting, standing, walking and laying down are most often talked about in Buddhism in terms of meditation practice. As deeply significant as formal seated Zazen is (as well as paying attention when standing, walking and laying down), we need not limit ourselves. There is after all also bending, twisting, standing up and sitting down, turning and all the other complex movements we can sit still within….right? And move like the wind.
Outwitted
He drew a circle that shut me out—
Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.
But Love and I had the wit to win:
We drew a circle that took him in!
—Edwin Markham
Hum…and it seems that Edwin Markham was born not a hundred miles away from where I am right now in Portland. Oregon City to be exact. Anyway I was introduced to this poem this evening and it seemed a good one to publish here.
Abandonment is a big one for very many people. Step out of line in school for example and one can carry the shunning with you all your life. I did something at school which I felt I could not own up to. That was until the whole class was told we couldn’t go out to play until the person who had printed their initial in several places on the walls of the school, owned up! Nobody thought to point out that it was obvious who had done it! Anyway, what a relief to own up and we all went out to play. But it was a close thing in the class mate shunning department. Others may actually suffer the shunning and that can be hard, very hard, to overcome. Especially so when one is held up for public ridicule.
To draw a circle around and draw in those who have cast you out can be more than most can do, at a tender age. Later on in life the circle can be drawn and they can be embraced. Drawn in with compassionate acceptance.
