It must be about ten years since Jim retired from his stimulating job in a police department in America. This is what he wrote, at my suggestion, some time after he officially retired.
There I was with a new found opportunity to unfurl from the responsibilities of what felt like, and at times literally were, life and death decisions. What slowly emerged were impulses and thought patterns which, when allowed to just be, seemed to be sparks of habit energy left over from the need to “manage” the world of conditions and to protect myself. Rev. Master Mugo described me as being one who had recently returned from a ‘war zone’ with my boots still smoking! Boots Still Smoking.
Jim has been around in the sangha as long as history! He remembers me as a novice at Shasta in the 1980’s. It is always a pleasure to reconnect as we did this evening on Skype.
The author of Spitalfields Life blog set himself a task to write every day. He has been writing for three years now. The quality of the writing and the photographs too are remarkable. The tone coming through is gentleness and kindness. Here he talks about a quilt made up of pieces of his late mothers (I believe the author is male) tapestry work. There is a cat, a black one, in the picture. There always seems to be a cat….
After a few judicious repairs, the quilt was ready to serve me for another year, with its glowing woollen colours and satisfying weight, lying on top of the covers to provide emotional and thermal insulation when I lie in the dark listening to the rain. I have written before of how I made this quilt by sewing old tapestries together, in commemoration of my mother in the months after her death – but now it has an age of its own and this receptacle for memory has acquired its own memories too.
From post – Taking Cover.
Thank you to Walter for the link.
The main rule of writing is that if you do it with enough assurance and confidence, you’re allowed to do whatever you like. (That may be a rule for life as well as for writing. But it’s definitely true for writing.) So write your story as it needs to be written. Write it honestly, and tell it as best you can. I’m not sure that there are any other rules. Not ones that matter.
He is a perfect example of sitting up with full attention. All his senses are alert. A truely wonderful companion to sit with as I type this.
It is just the purring that tells me there is something going on in that beautifully formed head. That and the gentle swish of his tail on the keyboard. Now I am wondering if he is trying to communicate something. Wanting to be let out perhaps.
Ah Smudge, you have grown mellow in your old age. And let’s face it, a tiny bit tubby too! And that’s about as personal as I am going to get. Yes, here sits a cat, the monastery cat, eyes lowered in repose.
SAMSARA is a Sanskrit word that means “the ever turning wheel of life” and is the point of departure for the filmmakers as they search for the elusive current of interconnection that runs through our lives. Filmed over a period of almost five years and in twenty-five countries, SAMSARA transports us to sacred grounds, disaster zones, industrial sites, and natural wonders. By dispensing with dialogue and descriptive text, SAMSARA subverts our expectations of a traditional documentary, instead encouraging our own inner interpretations inspired by images and music that infuses the ancient with the modern.
Anybody see this?
Practice Within The Order of Buddhist Contemplatives
