my life as a dog

either i smell like a dog or look like a dog or am a dog...
canines keep turning up at my heels...
though the rains have been off and on and on and off again..
i thought i’d take the long walk to grikos ..
yesterday i was shown the way and rather than lose the scent...

i got off to a bit of a ragged start,
but found the path again and was golden..
all the way to the beach, to the holy rock..
when...
coming up from behind me was the rca / victrola dog, nipper...
greeting him with courtesy, yet keepin’ on keepin’ on..
he continued to tag along..sniffing and lifting and scampering ..

shoo! you go on home now..
off you go..
away!
my dog greek being even less effective than my people greek..

the rains kept keepin’ on,
i was getting wetter and wetter.
nipper kept keepin’ on..wet as well..
all along the road, up the back footpath.. all the way up to chora..

he had a collar and a tag.. barely readable...
soaked, nipper and i stopped at fotini’s for some real greek help..
through reading glasses and magnifiers..
she and a friend and i finally came up with the number..
and nipper’s real name..
boobsi..boobsi?
it seems this fine dog of rca lineage belongs to a kind priest..
who came right over to collect him..
dog is my co-pilot!

just like that ~ i am dogless on patmos..

dunja's world soup

rainy and windy..
perfect day for world soup..

start with greek oregano and saffron
toast them lightly..shifting them around..
add olive oil and ghee..

1 small red onion sliced ever so thin
2 inch piece of ginger
i like it in strands - after i peel the piece..
i keep peeling into thin strands
add to the oil/ghee and saute'
along with 2 vegetable cubes...

in the mix stir in
1/2 cup uncooked basmati rice
1/3 cup of french lentils..
glisten them up
then add 2-4 cups of water and simmer
so the lentils can get ahead of themselves

chop 1/2 bunch of italian parsley fine, fine, fine..add..
fresh ground pepper

2-3 medium carrots sliced..
add more water
let them roil a boil for a wee while..
then add 4-5 small zuchinni sliced..
more water ?
keep a cookin'

here come the kalamatas..
12-15 cut in half and pitted,
please and thank you!
simmer away...
when it's thick and fragrant and ready..
add the juice of 1 lemon..maybe 1 1/2..

serve with a dollop
(don't you love this word?)
of greek yogurt..

kali' oreksi!

here comes the sun......

butterfly

birdwings

your grief for what you've lost lifts a mirror
up to where you are bravely working.

expecting the worst, you look, and instead,
here's the joyful face you've been wanting to see.

your hand opens and closes and opens and closes.
If it were always a fist or always stretched open,
you would be paralysed.

your deepest presence is in every small
contracting and expanding,
the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated
as birdwings.
~rumi

the black and orange butterfly in the middle
of the cobblestone path was bowing..namaste..
the wings were folded in to one another..
uncertain whether this being was alive, asleep
or in deep meditation, i bent down..
leaned in to see the presence.

since i cannot seem to leave well enough alone,
the butterfly was soon in my open palm..
she or he..opening and closing like birdwings..

after lighting a slender, golden beeswax candle
to the essence of all that suffers..
receiving again the sweet bread from evthemeia ~
i went straight home, placed the butterfly on the offering bread
and continued the day of writing..practice..

remembering often to peek into the energy
of this butterfly that had landed on my heart..
a dear friend would say:
i was tending to this papillon as a holy task.

gently i would move it from the sun,
chanting the heart sutra -
then on to the green leaves of the garden plants..
reciting the medicine buddha mantra -
and again, on to the moist dirt..
om mani padme hum -
this hushed creature would have no rest with me about...

as the eventide cooled and darkened..
i brought the butterfly in from the roof garden
laying him/her to rest on the stone which also
holds the candle of the holy mother..always lit..these days.
deciding that may be a bit too hot,
i set a shell betwixt the two..to temper..to soothe..
the wings slowly, tenderly pulsing -
opening and closing..like bird wings..

in the morning, i went to the red candle glow..
where was this butterfly?
adding more light...hidden..
i lifted the candle..
there under the warmth, the brilliance..
in full stretch..wings expanded..transfigured ~
the orange and black butterfly

in memory..
please listen to :
o' connor's - butterfly's day out
essential yo-yo ma

blessed are the cheesemakers *..or....

levi blues...
you would think
that all the walking up and down
this holy mountain
would make for a finer fit to my levis..
alas! 'tis not happening...

it must be the cheese!
the sheep's feta..
or the savory round of sheep greek gouda..
everyone must try saganaki!
kesseri or halloumi fried in butter..
note:
please see - a grand day out with wallace and gromit
to understand the full weight of the situation...

i know, i know..
the whole dairy thing..
it appears that my northern european jeans are kicking in...
it wouldn't be the yogurt and honey..?

then again.. it could be all the olives..o those kalamatas
i have turned away from halva - sad day in the life -
wonder if it's the belgian chocolate bar i delight in daily..
hummmm?

it's a mystery ......

*a fine read by sarah-kate lynch

spring gleanings

with love

let a new breeze of love blow through your house;
the Way is opened by Virtue, as it always was.
so clear your path of the harsh growths that separate you,
when all three are in harmony, you'll know what's to come.

the house of thought.. the mind..
in its essence is empty..
spacious..ness..
that which houses thought..
thought which gives expression to mind..
as the wise ones tell us..
thought is the natural radiance of mind..

when love and compassion are felt from the deep heart,
let's say the middle of the mind..
a new ~ because love is always new, isn't it? ~
breeze blows through the doors, the windows..
and one is free of thought..
it occurs to me that being thought-free
and being free of thought are two very different things..

thought - free is an illusion..
since thought itself is the natural expression of the essence of mind..
often described as the clouds in the sky, the waves on the ocean..
mind would probably never be a thought-free zone..

being free of thought is wisdom..
thought after thought after thought
arising
yet there is no chase, no lingering,
no attachment or follow up..
no fabrication...
no fixating and creating the next war and peace ~
as chogyam trungpa has said:
first thought, best thought.
let it down..
or as my dog owner friends say: leave it!


the great Way is opened..accessible..
by the golden key of merit..of virtue..
never closed to us except by our clinging..next thought, please..
stringing the story along..

in the buddhist tradition~
one field of merit is sentient beings..all living things..
the interdependance of every single everything!
this field is cultivated by our love and compassion..
the understanding that we are one in the many..
many in the one..
simply just another universal being..
- just another bozo on the bus -
let the breeze of love blow through your house
mi casa es su casa

when I go chasing thoughts, creating movies and story lines..
I end up in a fairly tangled mess..
the harsh growths that separate
you are here, i am there..
you get it, i don't..

the way, the path that is clear..
that has always been clear is the middle way..
we could call it the present moment..
yet that turns itself into a moment that could be held..
grasping at the now..
liberation, true moksha comes when all three are in harmony
the three...?
body, speech and mind? could be...sure, why not?
the three times?
past, present and future....i'd go for that..yes..

this is where we have traveled beyond
our looking back, looking ahead, even resting in the now..
this is empty of anything we could fabricate..
we are awake..we are alive..we are already dead..
we are with love..in love.. are love..
how cosmic..every day ordinary cosmic loving-kindness..

the middle way..
not between two things..

not two

the space.. the space in the middle..
the open house, the open heart..
in vastu, the feng shui of ayurveda,
the middle of the house is left open, empty, spacious..
suchness... as it is..
where nothing happens ~

you'll know what's to come!

unmarked boxes

god's joy moves
from unmarked box to unmarked box,
from cell to cell.
as rainwater, down into flowerbed.
as roses, up from ground.
now it looks like a plate of rice and fish,
now a cliff covered with vines,
now a horse being saddled.
it hides within these,
till one day it cracks them open.
~rumi


where is the love
that with one stroke
cuts time in two
and stuns it?
~ george seferis

critical mass

an editor wrote a note
to an enterprising, new writer:

"you have made the mistake of thinking
everything that is happening to you or
has happened to you is interesting."

i resemble that remark ...
attempting to write every day..
that being the platitude of wanna-be-writers -
i find myself editorializing every mood, action..
new surprize around the corner
waiting to spring me open....
yet.. i do find each happening interesting..
full of the vim that makes for a life..

perhaps it is the simplicity of the place..
the vibrant, awake silhouette of a far island..
the sea and sky that never rests in complacency..ever..
the faces of the elders and the young ones..
hey! the everyones..
the advertisements we hang out for the sale of ourselves..

sweeping..toting garbage to the neighborhood bins..
the churches on every corner..when do they open?
evedokia, one of my namesakes..offering me sweet bread,
pointing out the four apostles so ancient, so holy
on the inner walls of the sanctuary...
the atm machine giving my balance in euros..
cats, cats and more cats..
pockets full of friskies..
what kind of birds are those?
edgar allan poe raven crows

the lizards posing in the creases of the rock walls..
playing blind man's bluff until one will stop to show off
his lime green racing stripes; his long whip of a tail..
meeting the local goat herder, michael
who i envision as the archangel~
the wilde flowers breaking ground with varieties unknown..
pods of red poppies like sallie's petit pointe..
the huge cruise ships skimming the sea surface
gliding into port while all the shoppes scamper to open..
cutting my fingernails..
watching the clippings bake in the sunshine..
( now this is the deep end of interesting )

then of course, the moods that run through the mind..
what if i die here?
will someone come and get me?
the surge of joy i get when yanni honks his bus horn at me..
the dejection when he doesn't see me...
the sincere delight when someone, anyone.. understands my meek greek..
the despair of knowing war is obsolete..
are we going down with the ship..?
wondering..is this practice of benefit?
differentiating every nano-second
between loneliness and aloneness..
solitary refinement ~
i - witness news
o where o where is the stability?
interesting, eh?

it was brugh joy who said..

there are three sets of mental fetters
to give up if you want to be truly free:
judging,
comparing,
needing to know why...

soooooooooo, i just keep writing..
my interesting details..
god being in them.
the amrit of words..
keeping these fingers nimble
for advanced mental gymnastics -
o blah dee, o blah dah....
life goes on...
emaho!