The monastery is markedly still, yet filled with guests. They are here for a week of intensive practice with much formal meditation. The day itself has felt still, with just a hint of autumn in the air. Already?

By the entrance to the main building I paused to view the bright yellow upturned faces of Nasturtiums amidst the lush green foliage. That would make a great photograph, I was told. But I’ve been busy with other things.

Reflecting on the day, a good practice for anybody who points themselves towards a religious practice, of any faith tradition. I am glad to remember the flowers and while out on a lunch time walk, the wild gooseberry bush beside the road. I’ve been munching on the fruit from that bush for upwards of fifteen years, on and off. What a gift, and so sweet too.

Yes, it is good to take the time to reflect on the day. It helps one to arrive at a more rounded picture. Reflection too helps to soften that which could remain hard. There was the frustrating problem of not being able to get a printer working and the anxiety producing project of investigating my visa application for the US. How easy it is to join up the points in a day and draw a picture which sends one to bed heavy of heart. It’s not necessary.

Gardens, like friends, are rewarding when they bloom and grow. Frustrating when things don’t go according to plan. Disappointing when after hours and hours of back breaking work results in one small step made. Perhaps one stone removed in a path to make it flat. Is it all worth the effort?

What else is there to compare? Some days are better than others, some years are better than others! Often conditions for growth or resolution are not optimal and still the need is there to DO something, none the less.

AND there are the small simple things that go unnoticed, too often. Not good or bad, not right or wrong, or beauty set against ugliness. Not any of that kind of thing.

Within all of this is a belief that things must/should/aught be a certain way. They don’t.

Talking of gardens and gardening, a reader sent me a link to this garden near Lancaster, looks like it’s worth a visit. Maybe worth a visit with a friend, or family member? Or just go alone for a change.

How about this:

You can think your way into suffering in an instant; however you can’t think your way out.

How easy it is to have the words of others take hold in ones mind. Those words, or what ever ‘it’ is, can remain for hours, days, months or even years. Now lodging firmly in the mind, what is to be done?

People will sometimes speak of something that has been bothering them, and for some considerable time. By just spreading out what’s there and letting light and air in and around can be just what helps the lodger to leave. Or at lease start to loose interesting in staying. This is essentially an internal practice, requiring courage and compassion. And the long view.

Know that it is by the means of the self that we find the Buddha Nature. Know that it is by the gateway of the body that we find the spirit. Do not be concerned with places and things, with heavens and hells; do not be attached to your training: Gyatei, gyatei, haragyatei, going on, going on, always going on to the Fragrant Hill; Ten thousand miles in a flash of an eye.
-Rev. Master Jiyu Kennett

I was so glad to come across this quote amongst the pile of lecture notes and papers I’ve been sorting through. I’m not sure of its origin however it certainly sounds like my Master alright. She would quite often answer a certain kind of spiritual question with Gyatei, gyatei, directing us to keep going.

What of the Fragrant Hill though? Can it be anywhere other than right here, right now? And still there is the Gyatei, Gyatei.