the last breath - the first night

the first night  - billy collins

              the worst thing about death must be
              the first night.
                                     ~ jose ramón jiménez

before i opened you, jiménez,
it never occurred to me that day and night
would continue to circle each other in the ring of death,

but now you have me wondering
if there will also be a sun and a moon
and will the dead gather to watch them rise and set

then repair, each soul alone,
to some ghastly equivalent of a bed.
or will the first night be the only night,

a darkness for which we have no other name?
how feeble our vocabulary in the face of death,
how impossible to write it down.

this is where language will stop,
the horse we have ridden all our lives
rearing up at the edge of a dizzying cliff.

the word that was in the beginning
and the word that was made flesh—
those and all the other words will cease.

even now, reading you on this trellised porch,
how can i describe a sun that will shine after death?
but it is enough to frighten me

into paying more attention to the world's day-moon,
to sunlight bright on water
or fragmented in a grove of trees,

and to look more closely here at these small leaves,
these sentinel thorns,
whose employment it is to guard the rose.

PAY MORE ATTENTION!

look to the exhale..
listen! and remember ~
this will be our last breath

embody the echo of each last breath
every time we expire..
at every breath's end,
carve out a wee bit more prana
from the cave of the belly..
from the o so deep cavern that
holds remnants of memory,
the silt of distress,
that worrisome
fabricated
unknown
future..

when we reach the bottom of the barrel..
exhale again.. any amount..
be all out (rather than all in)
a death that is not the end of life
                          ~ bks iyengar

when we are empty, we are contented simplicity
we are not grasping at our i-shape..
desiring this and that..
preening ourselves for a shining reputation
hoarding money and objects
(or toilet paper, for that matter!)
envying one another's traits or experiences ..
we arrive in the center of center..

when you make yourself zero, 
your power becomes invincible ~
                     ~ m.k. gandhi-ji


we are now, all of us, in a great interval
perhaps the great interval
the bardo betwixt and between
our last breath and first night
i imagine we have always been~
it's the moment
we're in it!

be a light..
be a brightness..
impeccable with ourselves
and each another..
we are shining for one another..
we are burning dazzling shimmering
a great benefit for the benefit of all..
breathing in,
breathing out..
and out
and empty!

this is my song

this is my song, o god of all the nations,
a song of peace for lands afar and mine.
this is my home, the country where my heart is,
here are my hopes, my dreams, my holy shrine.

but other hearts in other lands are beating
with hopes and dreams as true and high as mine.
my country's skies are bluer than the ocean
and sunlight beams on cloverleaf and pine.

but other lands have sunlight, too, and clover
and skies are everywhere as blue as mine.
o hear my song, o god of all the nations
a song of peace for their land and for mine.
                  ~ lloyd stone
                      jean sibelius
                       finlandia


a hymn for these days..
'tis not easy..
knowing how to say what to say..
or to say anything that silence would best enhance
simply the inhale of breath
the outhale of letting go
and so....


this is my heart. it is a good heart.
bones and a membrane of mist and fire
are the woven cover.
when we make love in the flower world
my heart is close enough to sing
to yours in a language that has no use
for clumsy human words.

my  head, is a good head, but it is a hard head
and it wirrs inside with a swarm of worries.
what is the source of this singing, it asks
and if there is a source why can't i see it
right here, right now
as real as these hands hammering
the world together
with nail and sinew?

this is my soul. it is a good soul.
it tells me, "come here forgetful one."
and we sit together with the lilt of small winds
who rattle the scrub oak.
we cook a little something
to eat: a rabbit, some sofkey
then a sip of something sweet
for memory.

this is my song. it is a good song.
it walked forever the border of fire and water
climbed ribs of desire to my lips to sing to you.
its new wings quiver with
vulnerability.

come lie next to me, says my heart.
put your head here.
it is a good thing, says my soul.
                    this is my heart
                        joy harjo

eight stanzas for training the mind

1.
with a determination to accomplish
the highest welfare for all sentient beings
who surpass even a wish-granting jewel
i will learn to hold them supremely dear.

all sentient beings..
wish granting jewels..?
first of all, i must embody this..
jewels, they are/i am -
do i trust this?
know this?
to accomplish their highest welfare
~ to hold them supremely dear?
that is asking the impossible....
yet this is the very first verse to 
set in motion the training of my mind..

2.
whenever i associate with others i will learn
to think of myself as the lowest among all
and respectfully hold others to be supreme
from the very depths of my heart.

o holy mackerel, andy!
this is asking me to place others above myself 
it can't be right..
who wrote this..?..
what is going on here?
respectfully..
i must humbly from the very depths of my heart
defer
yield 
surrender 
my self-grasping
my self-cherishing
my self-important self
to the supreme wish-granting jewels
all sentient beings...
i will learn..

3.
in all actions i will learn to search into my mind
and as soon as an afflictive emotion arises
endangering myself and others
will firmly face and avert it.

well, at least i myself is mentioned here..
although it seems a bit of a scold
my afflictive emotions..
do i actually have them ?
what are they?
greed?
jealousy?
avarice? 
holy shiva! i guess i do..
and they pop up a thousand-fold
on my river of thought..
tucked into my burdened heart of hearts
and i see, yes, i see..
that they are endangering to me..
first and foremost..
and yes, as i firmly face them -
a threat to others..
to the wish-granting jewels..
all sentient bengs
i will learn...

4.
i will learn to cherish all beings of bad nature
and those pressed by strong karmas and sufferings
as if i had found a precious
treasure very difficult to find.

jeezal! what is going on here ?
as if i don't have enough trouble myself..
my own strong karmas and sufferings
cherish? cherish?
bad natured wish-granting jewels..
all those i separate myself from
precious treasures..like gold dust
second to none..without equal
what mirror am i looking through?
the i is not separate from the you
all sentient beings
i will learn..

5.
when others out of jealousy treat me badly
with insult, slander and so on,
i will learn to take all loss
and offer the victory to them.

jealousy slander so on and on..
sounds like some of my afflictive emotions
coming back to haunt and taunt me..
heavenly days! what the farnbang?
i must bow to the injury and be upright
in my inquiry to see where my words
and actions are harmful 
to wish-granting jewels..
numberless sentient beings ..
i will learn...

6.
when one whom i have benefitted with great hope
unreasonably treats me very badly,
i will learn to view this person
as an excellent spiritual guide.

this seems to be going from bad to worse 
abysmal to say the least..
great snakes! 
yet.. hummmm?
what is a spiritual guide?
one who may open my heart to see 
all things, all beings.. all events with new eyes..
so... alright already.. maybe worth a shot..
i will learn...
but i am not making any promises!

7.
in short, i will learn to offer to everyone without exception
all help and happiness directly or indirectly
and respectfully take upon myself
all pain and sufferings of my mothers.

all my mothers..
all my mother sentient beings 
all the wish-granting jewel mothers..
who have somehow been my mothers 
in each and every life that i have had the privilege to live
that i have been a mother to.. in all their precious human births..
again..
i must somehow embody this wisdom..
this awe-inspiring way of seeing the world
and all those in the world..
wish-granting jewels
all sentient beings 
asking alot of my small closed view..
asking me to find a vast new outlook 
to see, to be..
the great wide open..
the immeasurable 
the boundless
the whopping whole picture
i will learn..

8.
i will learn to keep all these practices
undefiled by the stains of the eight worldly conceptions *
and by understanding all phenomena as like illusions
be released from the bondage of attachment.

be released!
wow! gadzooks!
from bondage..
to be liberated..
to self-liberate by my very own actions..
what good fortune..
what bright and mighty medicine!
understanding .. realizing.. actualizing
all phenomena as like illusions..
illusory - all in my very own mind
wish-fulfilling jewels 
all sentient beings
reciprocal gems to bring me to awakening
who are more precious than they?
i will learn...


*8 worldly concepts
       like/dislike
      loss/gain
     fame/disgrace
    praise/blame

soft rain practice here

there is a soft rain outside my door..
it is dark, early, early in the AM of being
i am awake
~ because a fire was in my head   *yeats
toast and tea and clementines
such good and comfortable companions
these words of shantideva, too
having tea and toast with shantideva!
                                                 

overcome all forms of weariness
and ride the horse of bodhichitta
traveling from place of joy 
to place of joy -
what intelligent person 
would not delight 
in such a journey?
           

bodhichitta -
awakened  heart
heart of empathy
heart of compassion
heart of fearlessness
awake
for the great benefit of all beings

here -
the email note sent
to the california pack
of practitioners

namaste ..

here we are..

a pack of yoginis and yogis

practicing in community

smack dab in the middle 

of a life changing situation

for our entire planet..

the yamas and niyamas are of

utmost importance now..

ahimsa, satya, saucha..to name a few ~

bringing forth mindfulness in all our actions, 

reflecting  on our precious human birth 

and its fleeting nature..

cultivating generosity and kindness..

in body, speech and mind..

no doubt you know the preliminaries :

rest

take care not to attend practice when sick

wash hands often..and for 20 seconds..

perhaps while chanting 3 times:

om gate gate 

paragate

parasamgate 

bodhi svaha

use hand sanitizer a lot..

rub not thy face!

refrain from hugging .. such a heartache for me..

refrain from shaking hands

rather, greet one another so :

namaste - anjali mudra - gassho

or from sri lanka ~ with palms folded ~

ayubowen  (may you live a long life)

bring your own props to practice

mat, blocks, straps and blankets

(always a good idea, no matter what..)

let us take good care of ourselves and all beings

by being well-informed, free of harmful reactions,

offering generously our kindness, 

smiles and patience to one another..  

may our every thought, word, deed, breath, and dream 

be of great benefit to all beings..

may we all be healthy, loving and safe..

MAY I REQUEST THAT IF YOU CHOOSE 

NOT TO ATTEND THE PRACTICE SESSIONS, 

KINDLY LET  ME KNOW 

SO WE MAY HOLD YOU IN OUR HEARTS

WHILE WE GATHER TOGETHER TO BE THE MEDICINE..

 ॐ AUM OM  ॐ PRANAVA

the very best, 

the highest, 

the most supreme prayer ~

no wonder it is the sound of the universe..

the hummmmm of the fridge, 

the buzzzzz of the bee, 

the crasssh of the waves, 

the vibraaation of our cell phones

the resonance, 

the echo,

of all that is and is not..

palms folded with love and great gratitude

for each and every one of you ..

OM!

to a robin in lent

you were the first one back,

the first one back.

you clung to a bare black branch,

your habit to choose sundays in march,

wind whirling around you, 

sky grey as a shroud, and wet,

to sing to the flowers, not there yet.

you were not loud.

no, not at all.

but you knew what you were doing.

               ~ elizabeth spires

this..

from sand and foam - kahlil gibran

you may have heard of the blessed mountain.

it is the highest mountain in our world.

when you reach the summit

you would have only one desire;

to descend and be with those

who dwell in the deepest valley.

that is why it is called the blessed mountain.

 praise be!

(used as an expression of relief, joy, gratitude)

i am relieved, i am joy-filled and i am grateful..

the fire in my head has damped down..

my heart is tender with the melancholy of impermanence..

belly full of toast.. 

the ash light has brought the day to my door

i am ready to walk on the coals of awakening this morning..

the inestimable value of the instant is 

proved by its perishability. 

          ~ robert macfarlane

          

bristlecone - elder - young lady

of course, i am an elder..
turning 70 in a few months makes me so..
it is amazing that one body can live this long..
and it is astounding - the age of bristlecone pines...
2036 B.C. !!

what is most astonishing about pinus longaeva
is not the age of any single organism 
but the collective oldness and otherness of its entire community.
no two super-elderly trees look alike, to the point
where they have acquired the characteristics of individuals. *

yesterday at safeway,
gathering blueberries, avocados and bananas..
i stepped into the handicapped line..
shorter than all the rest
and besides, my mind was a muddle
due to malcontentedness
the - this not that - that arises when one is chasing
likes and dislikes..
losses and gains,
praises and blames,
fames and disgraces..
i was indeed handicapped..

waves are the practice of water.
                     ~ suzuki roshi

plus  ~
there was a wee elder..in line..
bedecked in outrageous magenta pants
a sparkling cap on her head..
a long grey bumpy sweater covering her slight frame ~
she had a shopping cart full of cheerios boxes!
the coupon in her hand was held
as precious as a ticket to hamilton..
my curiosity was peaked..

you love cheerios, i said to her blithely..
she turned, sized me up and said:
as long as they are chocolate
and i have a coupon....
they were and she did!

the checker, a colourful gal herself..
with dazzling nail polish and wild glasses
seemed to know the cheerios patron..
who wanted no bag..
just in the cart, please..she requested..
i left the bags in my car..
the purchase complete..
she turned,
gave me a waggish smile
and said..good-bye young lady..
a pleasant good evening to you..

driving through the bustling parking lot,
the magenta pants and the cart of cheerios
making their way along the lane..
minding the cars..slow and steady
where was her car? guessing aloud..
is that it?
nope..that? nope..that one?
she was still walking her cartful of cereal
as i drove away..


later that evening..
i attended a sitting group..
practicing the art of just sitting
- shikantaza -
nothing but precisely sitting 
resting in a state of brightly alert attention
zazen
having arrived early to see if there was anything i might be,
beyond handicapped .. i found a cushion..
sat facing the wall
just sitting

when we have our body and mind in order,
everything else will exist in the right place, 
in the right way.
                 ~ suzuki roshi

the zendo steadily filled up,
practitioners taking their seats..
a skuttle and a scurry showed up to my left..
my cushion was skooched in a flurry of movement
huffing, wriggling, shifting..
the person sat down beside me taking a chair..
much rustling of down jacket, fiddling of posture..

we all settled in for meditation..
all through the 35 minute stillness..
hiccuping..
huck, huck, huck, huck..
not any louder, i might add,
than my rumbling, gurgling stomach
or my unbridled chittering mind..

beyond that..within that..surrounding that...
silence
the ringing of the bell
time for walking meditation
the elegant elder woman did not get up..
keeping to her seat..her silence..
her hiccuping ~

after an illuminationg dharma talk ~
there is no noise.. only spacious silence..
there is far more water than fish 
in the great ocean of silence
go for silence..
leave the fish 
to flourish
flounder 
fly by

~ she reached out to me..
i feel i know you -
what is your name?
we shared a hello
i am thinking how pretty you are, young lady..
i answered, timid-like..
o my o..
it must be the scarf...
and kissed her a' top the head..

when you try to make your own way,
you will help others
and 
you will be helped by others.
              ~ suzuki roshi

i was healed.. just like that..
snap!
medicine..
i'll say it again..
we are the medicine
young lady, elder, bristlecone
seeing things as they are
observing things as they are
letting everything go as it goes


in a mirror, the large, the small, the beautiful, and the ugly are all reflected equally. 
nothing is splendid or poor or luxurious or impoverished; 
it is all equal. this is the wisdom of equal reflection. 
in the mirror, a rich person, a poor person, 
an educated person, and an uneducated person 
are exactly the same. 
to see all equally, as a mirror, with that clear state of mind, 
is called the mysterious perception of all things as equal.
                                     ~ shodo harada roshi

*the bristlecones speak
alex ross
the new yorker
january 20, 2020

i am not a teacher

i am not a teacher to follow.
rather
i am a boat on the stream of wisdom..
carrying ancient liveliness
to any who welcome themselves home ~

i am not a teacher to follow.
rather
i am a doorway to the venerable practices
a threshold of the sacred
to any who choose to cross over ~

i am not a teacher to follow.
rather
i am a tree with many leaves
falling from the branches of unknowing
for any who stand on the pulsing hallowed earth


~ no teacher here to follow,
simply an open palm
of tender mercies..
a palm of luminous gems
reflecting the dazzling self
in the mirror of glistening marrow ~

who is looking within?

look in with me.
together we shall see our generous wakefulness
in the radiance of one another's kindness ~
there is no where else to find the one we are looking for..

be reckless
stay true to the heartwood

spiritual scar tissue

the kingdom of spirit is embodied in my flesh
                               ~ pattern on the trestle board

i have always counted my scars..
as they have added up over this marvelous and fleeting lifetime..
i have always felt them to be worthy making...
like proud flesh
when younger, i would show anyone who was interested
all the stigmata i had gathered ...
stigma - a mark or spot on the skin - medical 
stigma - in a flower  - the part of the pistil that 
that receives pollen during pollination - botanical

my first came when i was three or four..
THUMP!
bump! in the night when i fell out of bed and hit the side table..
the night stand - standing between me and the floor..
my mother rushed in to find me grounded..
my tow-head turned red head in a heartbeat minute
as the blood gushed out of my crown
she scooped me up, fled down the flight of stairs
and into the kitchen..laid me on the counter
she ran - as cold as she could - warm cold water over my skull..
washing the wound.. me squalling like a midwest storm ..
my mama nursed and butterfly-bandaged the V shape gouge
which held the red river back..
V for victory
it has been said when the spirit leaves the body
it travels up and out the crown of the head..
V  ~ a perfect exit up and out ~
may spirit find the way ..

my second.. that i recall..  was about 3 years later..
riding my bicycle as fast as the wind..
with clothes pins and playing cards
thumping and bumping
thickity-clickity
around the neighbourhood in the suburbs of chicago...
this burly brown dog
shoots out from nowhere
to find the source of the racket
down! thump! bump! i go..
the canine of the month
took a wee chunk from my cheek
and then began licking the nip!
it shows up vaguely when it catches the sun..
when a dog runs at you, whistle for him
                         ~ h.d. thoreau


my family often visited the VA hospital in chicago
to be with our father who was very sick.
he died quite young
from the complications of a disease
we knew nothing about..
~ my first heart scar ~
the first cut is the deepest 
            - cat stevens
my sis and i were frequently found running
through the halls  - and scolded  for it -
while our mother would be speaking
to the many doctors .. of unspeakable things..
working up quite a thirst from one such runabout,
sara hoisted me up to the porcelain fountain
to quench my marathon hankering..
weighty and squirmy and cumbersome,
she let fall my bones, my chinny-chin-chin, on the font..
such squealing and howling had not been heard
in those corridors before or since ~


returning home sweet home
from traveling many months
thru india, pakistan,
afghanistan, turkey,
greece and yugoslavia
26 years young..
right breast
lump - thump in my heart..
in those days, it was easy
to stop in to our friend-of-the family doctor
(whose practice had nothing to do with breasts)
a podiatrist!
baring my chest and my soul
he quickly covered me up
o! please! no! no!
briskly yet kindly sending me to a surgeon..
fibrous cyst..
which most probably would have melted away..
but in those days, many were quick to cut ~
my second surgery since tonsillitis..
coming out of the anesthesia,
i heard the recovery nurses query..
no tan line.. hummm?
wonder where she's been?
and..what she's been doing?
without missing a beat i answered..
greece, the island of skiathos, paradise,
sunbathing in the buff ~ 
how bold and brash and brazen
non-malignant, praise the high holies..

slip streaming away up on high past Rockport
on a golden autumn glimmer of a day
with my third and last former spouse
you have crossed many waters to be here
                  -van morrison
i slipped indeed on some sharp slithery rocks..
gashing my shin bone deep ~
what a most amazing thing!
how the shin grew to the size of a boulder..
beyond the pain was the wonderment of such a miracle ~
my wedding ring was lost in the commotion that day.
a sure sign of things to come..
plenty of heart scars from this one

up those many stairs
at a wing and a prayer yoga studio
while adjusting the space heaters for more cozy warmth
my left ring finger toe
slit to the tiny depth of bone and blood ..
~ beware of those sharp and shivery heaters ~
when the practitioners arrived that cold snowy morning,
my legs were up the wall
with a spouting, spurting red release that would not quit..
we all decided we must cancel practice.
escorted to the ER by a most sweet yogini ~
a real nurse and soothing presence ..
she stayed with me through and through..

and lastly, and not leastly
the hip..
the right hip..
the bone on bone hip hurray..
what a trip!
the slice - very pretty and straight as an arrow-
on my top thigh for anterior entry..
o how i thought my life was ending before this deed was done..

of course, there are skitterings and scatterings
of knee, elbow and ankle scars..
eyebrow nicks and finger gashes
with no recollections of their storyline..

so far, it seems, just about the right amount
of pollination and marks on the skin
to bring the honey to the spirit kingdom ..

trees of life,
these bones and blood-filled bodies ~
trunks and limbs
mystic seed pod scars
evolving to a noble end one day
knowing there is only the beginning..
again and again
amen

on the day when death will knock at your door,
what will you offer her?
o, i will set before my guest
the full vessel of my life.
i will never let her go with empty hands.
                    ~  rabindranath tagore