The abbey (Shasta Abbey) also offers a number of programs that are open to the public, including meditation instruction, retreats, teaching and spiritual counseling. While the cats are not officially part of these programs, they do make their presence known. The chief cook’s cat is often seen outside the kitchen, greeting guests (or perhaps waiting for a hand out?), and the guest monk has a cat who is very much alert and present when guests come.
This is a must read blog for all those who dote on cats and care passionately about their health and welfare.
I was the guardian of several cats while living at Shasta Abbey in the 1980’s. Oh the stories I could tell! Tom, Max, Clerica, Cora, Thomas. There were others – and dogs too.
This information and story came to me recently via an email. Make of the story what you will.
I’d like to share with you this old Japanese story. This is one of those children’s stories that generations of Japanese grandparents used to tell their grandchildren.
In Japan, the statues of Bodhisattva Ksitigarbha are commonplace, often at the roadside. They may be solitary, but often we see six of them, one each for the six realms (hell, hungry ghosts, animals, ashuras, humans, gods) in which Ksitigarbha is at work.
Once upon a time, there was a poor couple, an old man and a woman. The New Year’s Day was just around the corner, but they didn’t have money to buy rice cakes for the New Year. The old man had made five straw hats during the evening after a day’s hard work in the field. “My dear old lady, I’m going to the market to sell these straw hats, and I will buy some rice cakes,” said the old man. But he couldn’t find any buyers. It was snowing hard, and there weren’t many people in the market. He couldn’t sell a single hat. He was sad, thinking how disappointed his beloved wife would be. On his way home to the village, he walked past six statues of Bodhisattva Ksitigarbha. Snow was piling up on their head and shoulders. “They must be feeling cold in an evening like this,” thought the old man, and he put the hats on the statues’ heads. He had only five straw hats, and he didn’t have any hat left for the sixth statue. “I’m very sorry but I have only five hats,” said the old man to the last statue. Then, an idea came to his mind, “Well, please wear my old straw hat. I’ve been wearing this for some years, and it is a bit worn out, but it is better than nothing.” It was New Year’s Eve. The old man went home, without wearing his hat, and his wife greeted him at the door. “My dear, I’m glad you managed to sell all of your hats, but did you have to sell your own hat?” “No, no, I couldn’t sell any,” said the old man, and explained to his wife what he had done. His wife was very happy to hear what her husband did. “You did a very good thing, my dear,” said the wife. Just after midnight, they heard some singing outside. They opened the front door, and found some rice cakes at the doorstep. “How strange! Where did these rice cakes come from?” In the distance in the snow storm, they could see six statues of Ksitigarbha marching their way back, all wearing a straw hat and singing a song.
In another version of the same story, the old couple was visited by six monks wearing straw hats on New Year’s Eve. The monks brought them some rice cakes for the New Year. The old man recognised that the sixth monk was wearing his old straw hat, and then he knew that the six monks were not of this world but the six statues of Ksitigarbha.
In gassho
I’m so pleased to hear that the horses we see working so hard at being still and disciplined during, for example the Trooping The Colour, get to let their hair down just a little bit during the three weeks they are stabled in Norfolk. We all need to take the opportunity to go for a swim, enjoy the sunshine and generally relax. I’m managing some of that in deepest Northumberland as I gather myself to fly to Vancouver Canada on the 19th July.
The Household Cavalry, the oldest regiment, come to Norfolk each summer for three weeks for their “holiday” and to do particular manoeuvres otherwise unavailable to them; part of that is coming to Holkham beach and swimming in the sea. We’ve always wanted to go but never found out when they’re there. Success this year!
It was wonderful to see them! The horses have a great time, particularly those who dismount their riders and gallop about freely on the sands or dump their riders in the sea!(as you will see on one of the photographs.)
Many thanks to my colleague in Norfolk for the photographs and message above.
This post is for a friend who broke her leg and as a consequence is facing a disappointment. My thoughts. Enjoy the sight of these beautiful horses as they enjoy themselves in the sea.
I snapped this picture the other evening while talking on the telephone. Just a moment, I need to take a photograph. My caller understood. The light was perfect and somehow the whole scene spoke to me. I’ve sat and worked beside this window in all weathers. Yes, and sometimes it seemed the weather can come indoors it being a chilly Victorian house with high ceilings.
This afternoon having vacuumed, cleaned, checked the window locks, picked up stray items, emptied the rubbish and everything stowed in the car I made my final bow at the altar. I wished the house well and those who come to live here in the future. Houses have a life to them. My father would say he wanted to leave a house better than when he and my mother moved in. On a physical level they certainly put in a lot of work with the fabric of the houses they lived in. However my father firmly believed, as I do, that one’s attitude of mind permeates one’s living space. I didn’t know that adults argued until I went into the world of work! So that alone would have made their homes a happy place to walk into. The left behind a good impression. They left a good impression on me.
Bless this house and all who find a home in it.
What a smasher! This is my great grandfather who died when only 49 years old. The original photograph, measuring 20 by 16 inches, has just landed in America where my lovely second cousin Jessica will frame it and hand it on to future generations. A reminder of their family roots nurtured in Northern England. I don’t feel it is mere sentimentality to honour such family threads. They are just that, threads which hold us steady just as our feet hold us steady with all the marvel which is our body/mind rising up out of the ground. Here is some information about Rev. Samual, which if this blog remains on-line into the far future, will serve as feet planted into the soil to hold the reader steady when the wind blows. And when it doesn’t.
Rev. Samual White (1843 – 1892) was the first incumbent of St. Cuthberts church. He was a member of Hatfield College, University of Durham and took his Batchelor of Divinity in 1865. He was vicar of Marley Hill from 1874 – a good ‘living’ – house plus £300 a year. Before becoming vicar of St. Cuthberts Marley Hill he was the curate of Thornley 1865-67, Seaham Harbour 1867-70 and Marley Hill 70-74. Rev. White is listed in the 1868 University of Durham Calendar under Hatfield College as “White, Rev. Samuel, student in arts”.
It is a simple thing, to look behind oneself, stretch out an arm and catch hold of something from the past and hand it into the future. Recipients derive their own meaning.
Practice Within The Order of Buddhist Contemplatives