The cows made it back to the barn

Pulled in at 7:30 p.m. after a leisurely departure from Vegas at 10 a.m.. Long day for old farts. Glad to be home, though I felt a twinge of loneliness knowing that our family will not be at arms length. The house is fine, the orange tree laden and sweet already though quite green, the flowering trees I thought I killed by over-pruning are lush and overhanging the front entryway.

Drove right on by the cow farm. We could see what they eat- the same stuff that the cows at Snake Mountain eat (minus the building materials, hopefully). Today we were the cows, and just couldn't wait to get home to the barn.

Change of Blog Title

Have been dissatisfied for a while at calling these entries "Is it Really Zen." I am always inspired to irreverence in the face of orthodoxy, laughing at myself when I buy in. At the same time, I am very moved and influenced by revelations, enlightenments, and epiphanies, considering them as blessed gifts. I have great faith in the validity of these, so long as the door remains open and ready for the next.

This diary is really about calling myself to be more present and aware. Sometimes my thoughts at the end of the day are mundane, other times spiritual. The teisho that inspired the creation of this blog was given by Norm Fischer on Zencast 9.23.07.

Don't know how to change the URL, so won't for now.

Could you leave this bed?

Today it is all about the bed. We awoke in our immaculately clean room with the pillow top mattress, feather bed, 800 thread count sheets, and down comforter, and decided there might be another day in Las Vegas as long as we stay out of the casino. Sloth will out.

Las Vegas-Always a Lesson

The casino win made a night's stay in Las Vegas irresistible. We really needed it to get the fleas off from last night's sorry motel. Found a new off-strip casino- natural minimalist decor, great beds, fabulous bathtub, the best pool ever, the best buffet ever.

I really thought this would be the time we would find Vegas fun for more than one day. We ran around like teenagers doing all the cool stuff.

But it wasn't to be. No manner of decadence will stay fun in Las Vegas for more than one day. When you have done it all, it's over. We will go to sleep in our feather beds with 800 thread-count sheets and be out of here tomorrow morning.

Two Days, Four Biomes

To drive across the U.S. is to experience firsthand the great diversity of environments in our country. Friday, we awoke in the dark, and on our perch above Agate beach, we watched the last of the fullish moon over the ocean, reflecting brightly on the water- a perfectly clear night sky above. We drove down the Oregon coast until we just could not assimilate any more wild rugged beauty: the waves in high wind smashing against the many rock outcrops was humbling and breathtaking. We turned eastword just north of Coos Bay for biome number two: the most incredible drive up a river valley toward just south of Eugene. Along this drive, despite the beach winds, we encountered mirror-like river waters reflecting the autumn leaves along the edge, and at one place, a lone fisherman barely making ripples with his line.

Biome number three began after we crossed Interstate 5 in northern California. Here, we drove many hours through evergreen mountains, and saw the most unusual (and sad, to us) dry lake beds. We could not tell if they had been that way for years, or if this was the result of a recent drought. We lasted until Susanville, just west of Reno, then dropped about ten minutes after we checked in to our motel.

Biome four was the stark desert landscapes we encountered in Nevada as we trudged along southward toward Las Vegas, passing through some towns with a wild character way exceeding Bisbee.

Smoke hung over the mountains to the west of us, reminding us of the California wildfires, still ablaze, and we wondered as we grew more tired, if we would find lodging in Las Vegas, or if everyone who could, would- get out of town. It seems they did, because there was not one single room in all of Las Vegas, save a $700 suite at the Bellagio. We were close to panic due to exhaustion, but managed to find a modest room just beyond Vegas. I won my obligatory several hundred dollars at a nearby local casino ($700 to be precise- in the usual way- with less than 20 minutes of wheel of fortune).

That's it for day number three. Of our trip; of the world series, of THE OMNIVORE'S DILEMMA (essay to come on that- oh my gosh!!!)

Join us on our trip south

We hope you'll join us on our trip south with our blog diary and pix on the way.
Departure: 5:30 a.m. First stop to collect rocks on the beautiful Oregon coastline: 9:30 a.m. The Tillamock Cheese Factory: 11:30 (a little less wonderful after listening to the first three chapters of THE OMNIVORE'S DILEMMA. We read every label in the company store. Everything has corn syrup in it except the cheese). 2:30 Uncle! A motel perched on a cliff overlooking beautiful Agate Beach in Newport.

The family that plays together, stays together

Discussion with fellow elders about our childrens' "birthright:"

In our consumerist, and familially fragmented culture, we do not bestow birthright financially as in days past when the children gave the work of their lives to the family estate. Today, their birthright has more to do with identity.

Identity is a very necessary commodity in a culture where staying sane is a full-time, fully demanding job in and of itself. The survival benefit of family membership today is not acreage, but identity: belonging.

In our family, much intention and financial resource is invested in providing emotional "home," in the form of rest, play, and wherever possible, community industry. The hope is that family identity will give the younger ones shelter against existential angst, which is as much a threat to survival as starvation was in a time of less material plenty.

Is this really zen? Hmmmm. The identity of which I speak is ego-based. However, it is my observation that enlightenment arises late in the journey of a well-traveled ego. The Buddha's for example.

There is pain, but there does not have to be suffering.

Today was filled with a lot of physical pain. The usual. The pain days are pretty much the same, but my reaction differs, which makes it a different experience each time. I needed to be very busy, so the pain was in the way. I did not devote the time or mindfulness to lean into it, to accept it. Unlike my cousin, I was not willing to be present to it.

Because of this it has utterly exhausted me. It is like working hard and trying to move fluently while carrying a heavy chain wrapped all around my body. This was a day where not only was there pain, but also suffering. Upon reflection, I could have suffered less.

Illusions of Separateness

In an earlier post, I mentioned my cousin who is undergoing chemotherapy, and is sharing her experience with friends and family through the internet.

Her hair is falling out on schedule. She is outside in her wooded yard, brushing her hair, and the clumps which fall are shared with the birds (and squirrels) who are busy building warm nests for winter. Separateness (created by a thin pane of glass) is revealed as an illusion. The oneness of all beings is thus exposed.

The beauty of my cousin is that vanity has not prevented her (and therefore us) from being present to the experience of losing her hair. She is a bald monk, and doesn't even know it!!!!

Lack of Wanderlust

I am having a familiar experience today. Have surfed the web many hours trying to find a place to stay while exploring the Big Island on a family trip. With cost as no object, I cannot find any place I would rather be than where I am right now, or where I will be next week.

Hungry for adventure in my youth, I went everywhere and did everything. I was the very antithesis of satisfied-definitely NOT zen. I've turned over all the rocks! The blessing of that is lack of desire now. Herein lies a big conundrum: Can we get to enlightenment/revelation without the desire/suffering that led us to seek it? The Buddha did not. So where in the practice/process is the doctrine of knocking your head against the wall? Is religion always an antidote? Can faith arise without trial?

I am grateful for not wanting to be somewhere else. I am, however, not free of wanting to pursue the spiritual conundrums. This is my life- faith, doubt, perseverance.

No-mind fun!

We are traveling south in a tropical storm for a weekend of no-mind fun! A gathering of family in which we come together to play- four generations of us- talent show, music, swimming, ice cream, naps, adventuring city streets.

".....the monk was playing hide and seek with some children. He crouched under a bush waiting, but the children wandered off to another game. The next day the tenso found the monk crouched under the bush and said, 'Brother, what are you doing?' 'Shhhh,' the crouching monk said, 'The children will find me!' " (Source unknown).

Embracing Doubt as a Pathway

Thomas Merton writes, "...[I am] bound to search the existential depths of faith in its silence, its ambiguities, and in those certainties which lie deeper than the bottom of anxiety. In these depths there are no easy answers, no pat solutions to anything. It is a kind of submarine life in which faith sometimes mysteriously takes on the aspect of doubt when, in fact, one has to doubt and reject conventional and superstitious surrogates that have taken the place of faith. " (For the rest of this reflection and its citation, see the link under "Amazing Contemplations.")

These realizations allow me to move fearlessly through exposing my ignorance in a blog about faith and doubt, through accepting the inevitability of my body's decline, and into the always beckoning mystery of my Creator.

Blog Action Day

Just this day did I do one single act differently in a way that would positively impact the environment? - a physical act, not a thought, not words. Did my awareness cause one change of action?

Thich Nhat Hanh said, "The enemy comes with a big basket of words." Hardly a day goes by in which I do not remember this.

I turned the lights off behind me a dozen times. I put on my socks. I turned off one heater before I turned on another. Practice.

Water Practice

Moving through the water while swimming this morning became a physical prayer.

Early in learning zazen, I was ready to be cynical about the "theater" of the zendo and its rituals. Of course it is theater! Roshi said. I became aware of how the body, in balanced repose inside a visually sparse room, speaks to the mind.

In my Christian practice, prayer through dance (movement) is a preferred way. So there I am this morning, slowly gliding through the water. My arms reach out together and pull the water toward me. At the same time, I am looking, really looking, at the blue tiles moving by below me. I am moving through time, pulling grace toward me. Grace flows over me. Grace buoys me up. A beautiful wordless prayer.

This, of course, is not really zen, but on the other hand, it was a meditation. Water practice.

Ferry Operations Practice

Tired of endless speculations, I have retreated to a favorite getaway-a spot above a busy ferry terminal with a full view of the ferry operations. It's a great spot to practice attention.

Things to attend to: Cars coming off the ferry, then more getting back on again. Did the captain turn off the rear radar when he landed? The crabbers and fisherman are on the pier. Are there jellyfish in the water, and are they in schools or traveling alone? The divers practicing. Where are they, as witnessed by the bubbles? Are the tugboats pulling or pushing the barges? Is my favorite young seagull with the lame foot here today?

Numberless beings engaging in ceaseless industry- easily as good a thing to observe as endless stories about events inside my body which I do not understand, cannot see, and fortunately today, cannot feel.

What is the center of the universe?

Yesterday, my lipoma was the center of the universe. Everything revolved around it starting at 9:30 in the morning, and ending at 10:30 when I went to bed. Today, it has resumed its proper place in the universe, revolving around the sun. And to think I did all that with my head.

I am the same me that existed before I learned about it, a me which loves a good party with talent shows and lots of laughs. Since we have the party of the century planned for my entire family in two months, I think I will take my lipoma with me to Hawaii and points beyond, and then when I return, we will talk about how to part ways peacefully. Is that really zen?

The body intuits itself

Just returned from visit to Dr. in which I got the results of a recent CAT scan. Got some interesting news, which on an intuitive level did not surprise me at all. I have been a little obsessed (attached) about clutter, too much stuff, gluttony, etc.

I learned I have a tumor (lipoma, most likely benign) the size of a grapefruit in the middle of my abdomen, which, because of its location, will require major surgery to remove.

OK, well that is some housecleaning, I will have to say! Will now have to spend a few more hours being bariumized, x-rayed, and consulting with surgeons about whether this can wait until after the wonderful whirlwind of world family visits, or whether it must be handled now, and if so, can it be recovered from by then. Many chances ahead for practice.

No room in the RAM for enlightenment.

I read everywhere that we are the most depressed culture in the world, as witnessed by the amount of anti-depressants we take. Spiritually, I suppose it is possible that we are the most bummed out culture in the world, but rather, I think we are the most neuronally exhausted.

In a podcast on insomnia, I heard that insomnia is not a state of lack, but a state of glut- too many vigilance-producing hormones over-activating the body so that it cannot shut down for sleep. A rapacious consumer economy and an overstimulating material culture is frying our neurons. This is the "full catastrophe (Jon Kabat-Zinn), alright. And insomnia is the monkey body doing exactly what it was created to do.

I just spent a weekend away because my attempt to manage this in my own home had become overwhelming. It would have been the perfect chance to meditate, which for me slows those neurons down so they can perceive the subtle (the spiritual). Anyway, now I am back at the task of thinning out the over-stimulation. I know I need to in order to have enough room in the RAM of my brain for the spiritual rewards of enlightening experiences and revelations.

Monkey Mind Management

I realize that I am focusing a lot of my spiritual energy on monkeymind management these days. I am naming mindfulness killers in my life, and trying to environmentally manage them. It feels to me that there is more to mindfulness than just the meditation. I seem to have to micromanage my monkeymindedness, too (I love that funny word) in order to have the time, energy, and consciousness (e.g. brain cells available) for mindful moments.

Is THAT really Zen? Hmmmm. I guess I'll have to say yes, in light of monastic practice, where the material vicissitudes of life ARE micromanaged, down to the last detail in some traditions. I experienced that on my first four day retreat.

I am a world class cockamamie schemer, as a result of which I have the materials I would need to accomplish another lifetime's worth of projects. In fact I go through my day tripping over them! I know I am not unique in this in our gluttonous material culture.

So how do I start getting out of the time debt this stuff has created? With a match? With a plan book? With a list of what I need? With a satisfactory option for where the stuff should go (of which the dump is not one). My practice for today: accepting feeling overwhelmed.

Is blogging zen?

Is it really zen? Hmmm. This kind of ruminating is just part of a process that is for me as unavoidable as digestion. So I think it is neither zen or not-zen.

But, as Pat Hawk Roshi said in the very first Teisho I ever heard, "You do not work for your brain, your brain works for you." In that spirit, I have accepted the time debt of diarying (now on the computer) and have found a good time to do it (trading it for some less useful time spending).

This is zen: When you meditate, meditate; when you blog, blog.
This is not zen: Multitasking while blogging.
Why on earth would you spend time talking to yourself, and then not even listen!

Can I reduce my time debt?

On the four hour zen flight, I had the epiphany of "Time Debt." One of those unexpected land mine epiphanies/awakenings. An example of time debt: I am very harrassed by the pile of recorded TV shows sitting on the bedroom TV stand. It represents a "should," (Must watch these shows) even though I wanted the shows at the time I recorded them. Once I have them is it hard to let them go.

I unwittingly (unmindfully) assumed a time debt. I was on the buy-now-pay-later plan with entertainment, but I forgot to think about just when I was going to service that debt. Result: the feeling of too much to do- harrassment- subtle irritation. All mindfulness killers. The solution- do not record any TV shows that I have not set a specific date to watch.

Other time debts for me (there are many):

1. Buying books without knowing when I will read them (does not apply to library books. I have a place for library books, can enjoy the casual peruse, and easily return ones I did not finish or even open- my idiosyncrasy)

2. Putting finished pottery pieces where they don't belong without setting a time to redistribue them to their permanent locations. This is a biggie! Vexes me greatly. Must set a definite hour during the week to put away my clutter OR not clutter (I'm INFP- option 2 is out of the question).

What are your time debts?

Does no-mind practice prepare us for things to come?

Monday as I was being wheeled out of my colonoscopy and upper endoscopy, the nurse said, "Your CAT scan results (from Friday) were not normal, you need to make an appointment to talk to the Dr. about it."

Four years ago in the Tucson Museum of Art studio, a young man and I spent a very no-mind season of clay art childishly practicing destruction with our work. He built deteriorating cities. I made a large series of pieces in which I systematically added more and more kinds of things to the clay that would burn out in the kiln, leaving holes, porousity, and eventually a lacy skeleton of clay with paper-thin edges. I was exploring how much you could take away from a thing and have it still be the thing. As time went on in this exploration, I began paying more attention to the inclusions, which would leave a shape or identity behind in their space. I even began to color the burnables so that they would leave color behind. At the time, I was responding to the landscape of the desert, which of course, like any natural topography, is the landscape of everything. It was the most satisfying series of clay pieces I have ever done.

I am grateful for that season on a day like Monday.

Are we really all one thing?

I have invited my cousin Barbara (my age) to call me so that she and I can set up a "Barbara's Blog." She has had a recurrence of her breast cancer and must undergo chemotherapy starting this Friday in order to fight the disease.

Are we really all one thing, as Buddhists and, yes, even Christians say? ("Whatsoever you do to to the least of these, I tell you, you have also done to me."- Jesus). The internet makes it possible for us to actualize our oneness. I hope that Barbara and I (or someone close to her) can create a "Barbara's Blog" so that she can do what I am doing now- writing in an out-loud diary. It will be a blessing for all if we can share her journey- the best and the worst of it.