discipline

the best kind of discipline is a mind at peace.
~ gonpawa

** riding amtrak to penn station, ny..
onward to union station, wa dc
~ the dalai lama’s birthday
& the kalachakra for world peace...

the muddy mohawk river on my right..
a young girl watching her movie on my left..

babar, the elephant in my lap..
sun is shining..clear skies..

easy to be peaceful when all the ducks line up..
what happens when the going gets rough..?
often, the mind gets ruffled and tumbly...

the discipline of a mind at peace..
a peaceful mind..a discipline?
whose mind is it?
do we have a choice?
is it really a discipline?

i’ll say, the high holies tell us...
always maintain a cheerful mind..

back to emerson..
the integrity of our own mind..
who benefits first and foremost,
when we choose peace?
easy answer..
not so easy when the world slaps
us upside the head..

who is the world?
none other than our very own selves...
our actions..past actions and intentions..
our present intent and future musings ..

you are the world and the world is you..
~ j. krishnamurti

all appearances are one’s own mind..
the mind itself is primordially free from extremes..
~ gyalse togme

the appearance of... waaaah!...
things are not going my way..
we grasp the appearance as the real..
we hold opinions on either side of the pendulum
what a limited waaaay to live...

i hang in a small square box now and then..
so tight, rigid and cramped..
when i finally wake to the reality of things..
the way it is.. the way things are..
what a stretch! breaking free..

every nano-second we get to choose..
a mind at peace..
this is the spacious gracious mind of clarity..
a mind at war..
this is the small..i-me-mine no way-jose mind

the discipline of yes..
the discipline of a mind at peace....
the okie-dokie mind..

one who is disciplined will conquer anger / impatience
she / he will be happy in this life...
~ shantideva

i like hanging ten with the dalai lama..
he likes hanging with a mind at peace..
i pray wildly that a wee bit rubs off..
okie-dokie mind, here i come!



** in the year 2002...
i was on another train...in austria..
after spending some time with the dalai lama
at another kalachakra for world peace..
entering the cabin to find my window seat,
i see a gent sitting where i am intended to be..
politely i show him my ticket and explain that
he is in my place...he turns to me..
roars and growls..vehemently demanding
i find another seat.. i quietly say i am a tourist,
a guest in his country..
it would be so fine to have the window chair -
to have a look-see at the beautiful countryside...
he barked again.. go find another seat..

the lady on the other side
of the empty seat betwixt them
told me to sit down and hush up...
my head and heart were o so hot;
making fists with my eyelids
to hold back the fire water,
i plunked down
between the two wilde and crazies..

slowly opening my book,
bearing witness
bernie glassman
i began reading ~
you always have the opportunity
to choose peace.....

holy moly!
inhaling, exhaling..
the gent by the window was sitting forward..
deliberately blocking any view, it seemed..
exhaling, inhaling..
the woman darkly reading her gazette..
the people across from me looking away..
inhaling, exhaling..biting my lip..

the conductor came by to collect the tickets..
we offered our chits..
he looked at me, the man by the window..
the tickets..slowly back and forth..
up and down..
exhaling, inhaling...
out he went...

the window snatcher relaxed a bit..
....scenery flying by..
waterfalls, trees, rainbows...

okie-dokie, artichokie!

interdependance day...

emerson..dear ralph waldo..
wrote much on self reliance..

nothing is at last sacred
but the integrity of your own mind.

that virtue is what leads us to
comaraderie with other humanoids..

watching harold and maude again..
maude claims her relationship with humans..
they are her species, after all..
a genuine simpatico arises from that integrity..
hence our interdependance..
sincere & authentic friendship..
does it REALLY matter...
whether one is a buddhist, a republican..
a factory worker, a woodsman, a high roller, a jew..
?????????????
what matters is the beating heart..
the breath and the death of every being..
it comes to that..
breath and death..

i recall being interviewed for a radio show..
the host asked:
what would i look for in a yoga teacher?
breath and death, i answered w/o hesitation..
let them teach you breath and death..
this opens the heart of compassion immediately ~
...on the spot..
i am he is you are she is we are all together
there is not one of us that lives without breath..
there is not one of us that lives without death..

the integrity of our own mind..
is the realization of our own death~
is the realization of our very breath...
polishing our sacredness, as dogen-zenji would say...

shine, shine, shine...
bowing to the light
we see,
we reflect,
we be..
......a sparkler!
may it be just so

clothespins

the christensen family home..
whippoorwill..is snestled up to
the 6 million plus acre adirondack park..
they themselves have 60 plus acres
of forest and stream..
a beaver pond and plenty of maples
to gather their own syrup!
the wildlife stays hidden..
bear, deer, coyote..
the state bird,
-the bluebird of happiness-
dives and darts around the house..
there are chickens and a pig..
a garden full of vegetables...
best of all..
a clothesline..

driving thru amish country ...
horse and buggy country..
fresh young men with straw hats
selling beet greens and berries..
the clotheslines are loaded..prancing arms and legs..
i realize ~
the rains of the great northwest
keep the clotheslines unemployed..

the countryside of upstate new york is astonishing..
gorgeous..streams, lakes and falls..
clouds tease with an intent of thunder..
sky, flirts a bleu to admire ..
woods thick with trees of all flavors..
beech, cherry, poplar, white pine ..

i’d like to have spent my life making
clothespins. nothing would be harmed,
except some pines, probably on land
i owned and would replant. i’d see
my work on clotheslines near some lake,
up north on a day in october,
perhaps twelve clothespins, the wood
still fresh, and a light wind blowing.
~robert bly

i once heard trees whispering as i walked among them..
yes, they concurred..
it is a fact..
we do come back as clothespins.....

mo-mo and mila

haiku

aha! mo-mo's nest
wee brown mouse with open eyes
awake! dead and alive...

wrinkling her nose
mila, the red rose of road
bows to mo-mo mouse

* mo-mo was found
sitting upright in his/her nest
of mila insulation..
eyes wide open
with a serene gaze..
mo-mo was buried
under the apple tree...
per chance this was
the destination
mo-mo had in mind
when he/she hitched a ride,
east..

there is no animal too small
who will not make a dent
in
one's life..
be it a mosquito, a mouse, a bird..
we are privileged, sincerely..
to find whatever kinship we can
with all living beings..
however pesty they may be..
it as all relationship..
with
every single everything...

hideous stinky

mo-mo, the mouse is dead.
mo-mo, the mouse is dead deep
in the bowels of mila rubie.
the odor of a dead mouse
is described as a hideous stench..
it is that and more..

it must have been the blower..
mo-mo probably died of a heart attack
by the pressure and the sound..
my lack of patience is rewarded
by the instant karma of vile stink..

o mama, can this really be the end?
- to be stuck inside a mobile
with the new york bleus again....

of mice and men...

the best laid plans of mice and men are usually about equal....

the mouse is out...
after the long journey across country..
with various attempts to evacuate our traveling companion,
mo-mo, the mouse has departed peacefully..still alive..
to a large open field to continue his/her meanderings..
yet not without some proof of presence..

we started by vacuuming the droppings
scattered all over mila to begin with a clean slate..
then,
set a few have a heart traps
w/ cheese and peanut butter..
to no avail..
one trap was moved to block the heat vent!
- not a touch on the foodstuffs -
we waited a day plus..
tried a sonic sound boom...
karl went in with a blower..
woooosh!
i went in with a vacuum...
vvvuuup!
only candy wrappers and bits of nest..
(thank goodness..)
laid out dryer sheets..
mice abhor the scent..we are told..

after calling in the angelic team,
petitioning the mice devas, etc...
hallelujah!
mo-mo vacated..

both filters..
cabin and air, had been
lived in quite comfortably..

it seems..
mice do like to return
to their nesting spots..
~ the traps are still set..
~ the dryer sheets still out..
mila and i are crossing our fingers and tires..

only the most foolish of mice would hide in a cat's ear,
but only the wisest of cats would think to look there...
~ andrew mercer

on the edge...the verge..

margins..the brink..brim...rim...

thomas merton defines a monk
as one who withdraws deliberately to the margin of society...
one who dares to seek on the periphery of humanity,
who is not dependent on social routine;
who prefers a kind of free-floating existence
under a state of risk... a state of exposure....

do you think that i know what i am doing?
that for one breath or half-breath i belong to myself?
as much as a pen knows what it is writing,
or a ball knows where it is going next.
~ rumi

on the road to buddhahood
ever plainer. ever simpler.
ever more ordinary.
my goal is to become a simpleton.
and from what everybody tells me
i am making real progress.
~ david budbill

to be yourself in a world
that is constantly trying to make you something else
is the greatest accomplishment...
~ emerson

keep walking, though there's no place to get to.
don't try to see through the distances.
that's not for human beings. move within,
but don't move the way fear makes you move..
~ rumi

the edge..
my schoolyard.. graduate work..
working on my 9th Ph. D..
toward no goal..
no yearly salary...
no term papers..no term.. no terms..
the free-float boat of presence..
breath by breath

out on the edge of darkness,
there rides the peace train...
~ cat stevens