Of his owners shouts
Down the path
A poodle strolls-
Prettier then its owner
“Why the leash”
Says the Black Lab
Should I shave my head,
To feel a lightness
Cut ties to my ego
That trips me when I walk
With a certain
Like a virgin birthing
A miracle child-
In the west, a common practice in Modern Buddhism and psychology is the practice of mindfulness. Mindfulness has many benefits when we first begin our practice of the Dharma, it acts as a kind of lens which allows us to reach a certain level of awareness; awareness to our thoughts and our environment, our various joys and sufferings, as they come to pass in our mind. This awareness, is good for us deluded beings, for when we behave or act in a mindful way, we become aware the root of all our different delusions and desires.
We may become mindful of a certain fondness or a certain dislike towards something, however when one says “oh here, is such and such a desire for such and such a thing, but it is only mind” this is being truly mindful. understanding our affinities for particular desires and why they come to be is the real mindfulness we must practice, and when one can do this, they can begin to detach themselves from their own ego.
From this level of mindfulness, what must be urged to go along with it, is a firm and unshakable faith in Amitabha Buddha, his compassion which extends to all beings, and his Pure Land which is reachable by even the most deluded. this firm unshakable faith in the Other Power, Amitabha’s vows, is what ultimately destroys our ego. Our goal in this Dharma-Ending Age, is to strive to be like Bodhisattvas under Amitabha’s teaching. we must forget about our self, our ego and its attachment to this world of suffering, in order to help all beings simultaneously, find liberation. By developing a firm and unshakable faith in the Primal Vows of Amitabha, and chanting the Nembutsu, not for our own rebirth, but for the rebirth of all deluded beings, one is able to reach a level of mindfulness where the ego is eliminated and one can truly understand Emptiness.
Thought after thought, feeling after feeling
Rise and fall like waves against the ship
Traveling to the other shore
The peculiar and the common in this world of suffering
Our mind, so full of self
Begins to melt its prior ego
In the brightness of Amitabha’s rays;
Knowing all beings have their place
Within his Pure Land in the West
Self becomes other, other becomes empty;
A newborn Bodisattva blooms
From a lotus in a sea of Emptiness
To make offerings to all beings
Prior to recieving the robes of Bodhidharma, Huineng cooked the temple rice and stoked the fire.
Pickup or Shih-te would take a moment from cutting root vegtables to scribble out a poem or two within the kitchen of Kuiching Temple
Kerry Thornley took up his dishwashers apron in the small kitchen of America, declaring himself a Zen Dishwasher, and soaking empty bowls full of flax seed.
Jack Kerouac, he just did his own dishes and those of every desolate angel, that burning drunk bodhisattva.
No nihilism here, but anything else that ever could be, is not, nor ever was or will be, now no mind, is that non-participation or joyful engagement? Can a smile and a flower be held in each without those engaged in no-action to act or those engraved by bliss-bestowing hands a disease that ward away those in which one needs to do some simple buisness with? Surely these hermitages into samsara are the duties of both Bodhisattva and philosopher. The no temple into this no world. The and this is all that one must focus on as openings of the widest possible concentration. The greatest gap, is there even a space or does that spatial reckognition create duality? Consistantly smiling. One who understands samsara, understands this reckognitions voidness, knows no affliction as if one is to continue this rebirth, continues smiling, never concieving of either enlightenment or ignorance, of mind or body, of conciousness or unconciousness, and most certainly no space between them and no shelves to house opinion. How blissful this engagement, as ficticious as ever in this illusory world, but this reckognition, the no temple and its congregation guiding pilgrims through this no world. Here there are trails that one can suppose lead both ways, but why should they turn around if one only need, only can take one way? Is this conceptualization not enough, to say laid here before me, is A path. Another meditation, and A joins the and this but in it is all one single notion that gives off multitudes of singularities, kalpas and aeons of such detached things. Here, we are hanging to the title of being, in a, the or this world, and has it ever been defined? Only defiled. This cling to samsara, provides limbs with which to interact and mind to initiate and long for these interactions, A, the, this, and where should these interactions take place, in no place other then impermanence? My entrance to this grand illusion, but an interaction, is illusion then itself an interaction, full of sentient qualities and buddha-nature? Does an join A, the and this along the lines of samhadi? No need, already there, and no need for these distinguishing marks, for only detached things serve them. Existence precedes essence, the memories of an existential puberty. Better formulation, to exist is to suffer this essence, non-existence then, is to suffer through it, aware of its essence of detachment, aware there is no awareness taking place, and all simultaneously, A, An, the and this, subjects awareness, subjects departure from it. Where objects are manifested and are rooted, only denial of this non-entry. Being neither valid or flawed, whats the use of it? What is the reward? In mere moments I trancend myself, though I cannot recognize it writing, and here it is happening again yet the finger plants itself on the words to read their past regression. What is in the reward? A mere smoothing out of every passage, this reality, this visual obstruction. If appearance were jagged, these eyes would be too cut up for any more perception. An, A, the and this, that polishing motion on the stone, and the ability to see its jagged edges, thusness, all samsara must be rounded. The greatest illusion then, not the world but the file. The suffering it takes to dull down the dharma in every rebirth
Namu Amida Butsu.