Anybody who has ever needed to, been drawn to, attempted to and failed to register protest will no doubt, read and weep.
Light a candle, offer incense, recite a scripture, make bows. Offer merit. I’m off to do just that and then sit.
Thanks to Angie for passing on the link. I’d absolutely no idea this was happening in Tibet right now!
On the path there were obvious signs of bird carnage – bunches of remarkable pheasant feathers. So sorry.
Chicken Talk from Mugo on Vimeo.
Thanks to Angie for a very pleasant day. Let there be more.
Several times a day dogs need walking in order to do their business or to get busy as a guide dog of my acquaintance would be instructed. Guide dogs are highly trained in all aspects of their lives. One moment they are getting busy the next they are helping their person cross a busy road and the next they are off lead running free socializing with other dogs. I was always so impressed that our guide dog would get busy to order and in places his blind owner would not walk, or anybody else for that matter. Uh! dog poop on the pavement is no fun is it.
This morning while out walking I saw up ahead a man, with a dog, talking to another with two little dogs. I could tell it wasn’t quite a passing the time of day talk either. Turned out the second chap was being ticked off for not picking up after his dogs. Thankfully the civically minded man had done the deed and was just returning from the doggy litter bin when we met. He passed the time of day with me. People should pick up after their dogs and isn’t it terrible etc. etc…. Quite reasonable complaining really but I never seem to be able to join in a full blown rant, and this wasn’t one of those. So as we walked on the subject changed and I learned that salmon run up the river here at this time of year to spawn. We leant over the bridge looking for fish briefly then parted, each going our separate ways.
It is one thing to point something out, like the civic minded man (and to have a bit of a private rant too) and quite another to verbally saw people off at the knees. Either to their face or behind their back. We all must surely know when we have crossed the line. However, whether the righteous or the miscreant, crossing the line leaves a bad taste doesn’t.
Hah! I’d intended to write about the sound, the music, of the river I walk beside each morning. It’s no exaggeration to call it music either.
I remember somebody saying The entrenching tool looks like a joke, until you use one. Just so. In the first post on Jade Mountains back in the dim and distant past (August 2003) you will find a photograph. A picture of me holding an entrenching tool. What’s more, as is the custom with first posts, I was contemplating my purpose and intention for starting a blog. Now referring back I am glad to say I still stand by what I wrote, back then.
….spiritual inspiration; inspiration to keep traveling the road and overcome difficulties. They also provide information and insights; information about the practice of the Serene Reflection Meditation Tradition (Soto Zen) and insights into how that practice unfolds in daily life.
My current thoughts around Jade have been about developing the site rather than questioning continuing to write, or not. Just in case anybody was wondering.
Just as with the entrenching tool on first sight Jade might look like a joke or better put, a self-indulgence. A monastic going on about herself, Where’s the Buddhist teaching in THAT? One might well ask. Unfold the site, use it, and hopefully you will find it a useful tool. A good place to return to. But most importantly, Jades meta-message if you like, Buddhist practice is not something outside of daily living or confined within the walls of monastic practice. If that comes through then I’m happy.
Thanks folks for your feedback. If I had more time available I’d write more, and more often.
Here below an extract from a piece describing a relationship between a man and his son, titled Orphans. The story culminates with the mans death.
When we got to the hospital, my father’s body was still warm. But he looked utterly dead, with a slack expression he never wore in life. My mother said farewell to her prince and protector for the last time. When we got back to the apartment, she gave letters to me and my sister that he’d written years earlier, before a prostate operation, to be opened by us in case he didn’t survive. “I lived the life I chose. (Sometimes, these days I think that it might have chosen me.) I have been very happy,” he wrote to me. “I did the right thing. I dedicated my life to human progress — to bringing about changes that would improve the conditions of life and the quality of life of the common people. My belief as I depart this world is that I have been an instrument of historical change — that the forces of change worked through me. For this reason, I led a life of meaning and purpose.”
This piece touched me particularly at the moment as I contemplate the direction of Jade. That’s developments of the site and questions around my purpose in continuing to write.
Thanks to Julius for the link.