A Buddhist's Diary March 24th 2009

Quiet people still pick their way North through the beautiful desert of southern Arizona.
Gun dealers risk their duct tape wrapped loads through Skeleton Canyon in the night.

If we opened our borders and legalized drugs could we make things better? "Oh no!" a woman from Juarez tells me, "without the drug business and the immigrant business there would be no way for us to live!"

A Buddhist's Diary March 23rd 2009

The Old Ones are dying. Many respected Buddhist leaders with their feet grounded in formal monastic education are growing old. Who will replace them?

In Indian refugee communities, in Tibet itself, where the scholastic tradition has until now never been broken, are young monks learning and studying as they always did? Has the banner passed to America as some writers say?

Does it matter?

Can we keep the knowledge and practice alive and well without the rigor and yes cruelty of the old Tibetan system? Our American way of practice is without rigor. Our long meditation days get shorter and shorter, and many people no longer attempt the full lotus position. I have almost no knowledge of Buddhist schools and histories. I know nothing of Soto Zen in Japan. I could not afford to go there.

My answer to all this is to keep to the simple teachings that underlie all the later elaborations.

Approaching 'right thought' for just a minute is my unattainable ambition!

A Buddhist's Diary March 22nd 2009

One of the paradoxes of Buddhism is that while the philosophy seems to deconstruct sense of a personal self, many Buddhists spend a lot of time on what could be called narcissistic contemplation without much thought for others.

Probably because of my early life as a nuisance at an extremely stressed time, I have had two personas dogging me. One is loud and showy and talkative, the other craves anonymity. When the Rochi expressed surprise at some of my silly accomplishments, I was surprised. I thought she must have known that I am creative and energetic in my personal life.

Should I blow my own trumpet more? Should I shriek for recognition? Should I work on Myself more? No. But I would like the few people I admire to know me a little better........ How can I do that? I'll leave it lie.

A Buddhist's Diary March 21st 2009

What is right thought? Once again, back to the three precepts: Do good, do no harm, do good for others. I was going to write 'With careful thought' these precepts will guide us. Then I thought 'What's careful thought?' Well, I think I can answer that. Careful thought is caring thought.

A Buddhist's Diary March 20th 2009

I'm reading a book by Oliver Sacks. He tells the story of a young man who seems to have achieved something like nirvana. From being skinny and hyper he slowly morphed into a smooth, fat, serene, happy, totally blind person. Since he lived in some kind of contemplative community, this change was taken for enlightenment and not an enormous brain tumor.

Most of this person's brain had been destroyed. What does this say about the serene, wise and compassionate way that is our ideal? Is it brainless? No. Because we are influenced by wisdom, not lack of brain cells.

A Buddhist's Diary March 19th 2009

Well to get back to the eightfold path. What about 'right thought'?

Even if we know what right thought is, how do we practice it? I know I have written before about the impossibility of controlling one's thoughts. Oliver Sacks(?) hasn't written anything about how thought originates that I have seen. I know that I think in words, even though my emotions show clearly through subconscious body language, tone of voice etc. I have always been a proponent of suppression. This does not win approval. It is self damaging, I am told. It can be, but I still firmly believe that relentlessly crushing 'bad' thought can eventually change it.
Is subconscious thought in words? I think it must be, or the wonderful phenomenon of having the answer to a problem spring fully formed into one's head would not occur.

Life is too short. We should not allow ourselves to be led around by the nose by a bad thought.

A Buddhist's Diary March 18th 2009

I started this diary as a way of attempting to explain my way of being Buddhist. Since I have no readers that I know of, I continue out of pure cussedness which I don't think is an admirable quality. But that won't stop me!

The problem is that there are two sentient beings in the back of my car waiting to go to the bark park this morning. I meant to get to the WiFi coffee shop at 6 but it was 7 when I got here. My greatest fear is that the sentient beings will start chewing on the upholstery if I stay here too long..........

A Buddhist's Diary March 17th 2009

I wrote about the Eightfold Path earlier. The path purports to show the way to leave suffering. Unfortunately the word 'right' is the prefix to all eight ways. 'Right' is a word that can mean very different things to different minds. What is 'right' speech? For some it could be speech that glorifies a certain toothpaste. I think the thing to do is to apply the precepts 'do good, do no harm, do good for others' to the ways of the path. Even here though, 'good' can be interpreted very differently in various situations.
There was an English philosopher who said that 'do as you would be done by' is also not an acceptable way of living because it carries the implication that we can assume that others want the same thing for themselves as we do. Mostly this may be true, but not always. This philosopher said that it is better to 'do as the other would be done by'. How can we be so arrogant as to think that we can know this? By believing what the other claims to be his wish?

My feeling about this is that one should avoid physical hurt to others (and one's self), and to make a strong effort to do no mental hurt. (Right speech again!). Compassionate quietness looks like the way to go, but damn that quietness is hard to do!

A Buddhist's Diary March 16th 2009

The long forgotten have left enough of themselves here to pique my curiosity. What stories we'll never know!

I was typing away on this blog just now when my text suddenly changed to numerical gibberish. I thought perhaps the computer had decided to prove the Unprovable Hypothesis all by itself. I panicked. Life without computer! Life without throwing my banalities out into cyberdarkness! Three hundred miles to the nearest MacMan!

Then I realized that I must somehow have hit the num lock key at the top of the keyboard. This computer is an antique, but in all the years I have owned it I have never investigated the top row of keys, except the 'eject'.

I used to live near Portland Oregon. I lived there thirty-three years, but I didn't know the city. I knew my way to work and family homes and the Clackamas Town Center except when they messed around with the freeway accesses. I had my own safe little burrows around the metro area. Same with the computer. "I'm too busy to explore," I say. Well I was pretty busy in my Portland days, but not now! I hearby commit myself to an open-eyed exploration of all the functions on this machine.

A Buddhist's Diary March 15th 2009

These are carp. I am told that they are inedible. But I have eaten carp, and found them perfectly good. Not from the Rio Grande, true. My first husband used to catch carp and store them live in a spring pond then load them in a live box and drive them to New York City to the Kosher fish market. They were bound for jars of gefilte fish or so we were told.

When carp are red they are called koi and are found in the lobbies of expensive hotels, where people throw pennies at them.

Sometimes it is difficult to tell custom, culture and fashion from the simplest way of viewing things.
One of the joys of the American method of education is the way that students question. Japanese and Singaporan and Korean teachers would be stunned to have a student be skeptical of facts handed down from above. I know this is changing.

When I first came to sit, I was surprised to hear the Roche say that one should evaluate and judge all that is taught of Buddhism, and accept only what makes sense to oneself. This is called cafeteria religion, and is much decried. There are at least two ways to look at cafeteria religion. One can say that it is self-serving and lazy, that people snap up the cute bits of Hindu, Buddhist etc beliefs, treating them like pretty trinkets, without the least understanding of the belief. "Oh we're having a Puja tonight at Mary Lou's house. You want to come?"

The other way of seeing it is to say that with much study and thought a way of living can be custom designed, no matter how horrible it may sound. I am not American, but I call myself an American Buddhist because yes, I reserve the right to accept or reject aspects of Buddhist teaching. Getting to the core of most beliefs and philosophies one finds great similarity. But no. I do not believe in carnal reincarnation. Sorry.

A Buddhist's Diary March 14th 2009

This is a cattle guard.

It is put there to prevent cattle
from getting out by road.
Many people consider cattle guards
as useful receptacles for
discarded beer cans,
or even the more virtuous water bottles.

Dogs have to learn
how to deal with cattle guards.
At first they are very suspicious,
but then they realize

that they simply have to adjust

their vision and co-ordination,
and lo and behold,
they are flying over them with aplomb.

We humans,

with our analytic minds,

see what we have to do,

but we always treat cattle guards with caution.

Step carefully.
This empty place would not be ideal for a broken ankle.

That's it. I'm not going to go on about life's pitfalls. Go figure.

A Buddhist's Diary March 13th 2009

Dove and Dagger.

This is embedded in a cottonwood tree
outside a mission chapel
in the desert just outside the reservation.

I don't think it's a dagger.
It is so rusted one can't tell,
but it might have been a screw-driver,
put there to hold the dove in place.

I prefer to think it's a dagger.
Threat of violence holding the dove of peace in place.
It's what we do, right?
Alternative?

Implacable, stubborn peacefulness.
But that is so hard!

Who wants to garrote AIG execs with piano wire?

A Buddhist's Diary March 12th 2009

I did spell Dhammapada wrong. This seems to be the generally accepted sequence of letters. It means 'path to virtue' in Pali. It is attributed to the Buddha. Who knows? In any event, I am quite sure that it transmits what the Buddha intended.

I really like the opening sentence which says that we are all that we have thought. Pretty much what I saw on the billboard in Las Vegas.

Thought control! Doesn't that fly in the face of imagination and creativity?

I value my random, flying thoughts. Last night I was watching an owl sitting in a pecan tree that is still bare of leaves. I was attempting a conversation, but the owl's thoughts apparently were elsewhere. Her little hoots drew in an elegant male who swept in with great panache on beautiful silent wings, the owls copulated briefly and the male was gone as quickly as he arrived. The female looked like a bundle of disordered feathers. As soon as she got herself together she too was gone in search of her lover. Much food for thought there, and lovely images to remember. To me there is nothing wrong with my delight in what I observe. Surely it hurts no-one?

Speech and action from an evil thought is the problem. Not allowing the evil thought is the key. Ask Jimmy Carter.

A Buddhist's Diary March 11th 2009

I've missed a few days. Never mind. I took this photo at a very elegant and 'modern' style museum in Brazil I think. There was a bit of a problem. It was very hard to find the entrance and the exit. A little like my search for information about Buddhism. No easy access. I DO like things to be easily accessible. Sometimes subterfuge is intentional. I suppose we all use a little secrecy about our thoughts and ourselves as a means of protection. Against what? We create unnecessary convolutions that waste time and detract from clarity. There's nothing out there.

A Buddhist's Diary March 11th 2009

When I first became interested in Buddhism I searched on the web to find out what I could. It was a miserable experience. Perhaps it is easier now, but I had no idea what flavor of Buddhism I was looking for. I knew I wanted simplicity, but there did not seem to be a category for simple Buddhism. The Zen place was here in the phone book. I found it and accepted it, and the people accepted me.

The first book that was recommended to me was 'Concise History of Buddhism.' It is short and dense and provides a history of Buddhism and its spread to and away from areas of the world.
But I do not like the use of the Pali and Sanscrit words for important items like schools, sutras etc, because at least for me, they are difficult to remember. I've mentioned a few in this diary.

The book that I enjoy the most is very small and packable. It is a translation of what are supposedly the Buddha's own words. It was first published in 1900 and is now available through Dover Books and is exceedingly reasonable. The translator was Max Muller (I think), and of course I have some issues. Did Buddha talk about 'fools' so much? He seems to have had no patience with fools. Jesus thought fools were all right I think. I know I'm a fool, and also a woman. Would the Buddha have looked at me without seeing a sentient being as men of some cultures do? It doesn't matter. The book is a translation of the Dharmaputta. I think I spelled it wrong.

A Buddhist's Diary March 10th 2009

Some images invite a Zen painting. This is my Catahoula. I could use both sweeps and stipples to catch her beingness.

Lately I have been practicing images of Buddha.
I had a great moment when I finally achieved one that I liked. I had to stop because I know I won't catch the exact image again. Perhaps I will. I just need the courage to try. When my euphoria subsided I realized that my view of Buddha might not be pleasing to many people.

I will post it. OK I know it won't be seen.

A Buddhist's Diary March 9th 2009

Another enigmatic teaching. You are standing at the top of a very high pole (how did you get there? I've no idea). What do you do? The answer is: 'Take the next step.' Of course, but where? If the pole was round, I'd slide down it. If it was square and splintery and 16 inches on each edge, I would scream for help. I would probably fall off the pole before I would step off.

I think the message is that it doesn't really matter what the next step is, and that the next step will happen anyway.

A Buddhist's Diary March 8th 2009

Lately I have strayed from the simplicity rule for Zen painting. I have fallen in love with using a dry brush, squishing it into a star shape and then making lovely hairy blotches all over everything.

My black dog and her shadow cannot really be portrayed without Fill. An outline would not say 'Black Dog'.

Back to the coloring book!

Eating Jesus

I saw a sign outside a church today. It said 'Feasting on Jesus! That's life!'
My literal turn of mind put an image in my head. Need I say more?

Yes I know that partaking of The Flesh has absolutely nothing to do with barbecue. All religions shelter themselves behind arcane imagery.
I wish they wouldn't. One of my daughters, at the age of eight, went into a world of nightmare after studying Revelations in the Bible. A kind and decent man who became my husband and ex-husband, explained to her that it was necessary to communicate in riddles at that time, because of persecution. Big sigh of relief from her.

True or not who cares?

A Buddhist's Diary, March 2nd 2009

It isn't March 2nd. It's March 6th or 7th or something. It's all relative. Ask Buddha, ask Einstein, ask yourself.

I probably won't make it through the year on this project, and it doesn't matter. But it is fun having year-long projects and actually completing them. Yes yes a form of attachment no doubt. My Zen paintings are not improving, but I enjoy doing them. If I ever do another good one I will post it.

I think my butt has grown into the chair in the Dismal Cafe with WiFi. So many petty little tasks that eat time (relatively speaking).

I wonder what Gandhi would think of the fuss over his belongings. I wonder what else he owned. A portable radio? A mattress? Aspirin? A fountain pen? A philosophy that is priceless?

A Buddhist's Diary, March 1st 2009

This is the road to Mecca. Mecca California. A working town on the shores of the Salton Sea. Mecca grows oranges and grapes and dates.
The Salton Sea is full of tilapia, a fresh water fish that has adapted itself to salt and seems to live compatibly with the agricultural chemicals that pour into this sink with no exit. Some kind of barnacle got into the Salton Sea relatively recently. Now the beaches are pink with the broken shells of these barnacles. seabirds abound. Are we misjudging the resourcefulness of nature in overcoming global changes in the environment? I guess the big question is can we eat contaminated tilapia and thrive? Some people appear to be doing that in Mecca.

A Buddhist's Diary February 28th 2009

The town of Trona, California is close to the tourist track, but not on it. It is an industrial place, processing minerals like salt. As far as I could see there is no public art in Trona except this lady in her bath-tub of rocks. Why is she there? Is she an affront to anyone? Does she signify the exploitation of woman? I don't think so. Trona is a harsh town, but for all our sakes let us smile!

A Buddhist's Diary February 27th 2009

I listened to a Tibetan rimpoche on 'New Dimensions' last night. OK I know it didn't air until March 1st but I am catching up from my month on the road and I am NEARLY THERE!
Yes. This person was as wise and clear as the Dalai Lama. I liked his comment about ritual and ceremony. He pointed out that the Buddha didn't do a hundred thousand prostrations, as some Buddha seekers are required to do. I'm sure he was much too sensible. I was required to do a thousand prostrations. I thought it a bit silly, but I did them really fast. Me, counting to myself as I flop and rise on my kitchen floor is a far cry from the splendid old Tibetans prostrating their way around the Jokang Temple in Lhasa. Their belief is their way of living, ground into their hearts and minds.

A Buddhist's Diary February 26th 2009

A group of lively and charismatic Buddhists with Naropa connections have set up in the village. I am attracted to the liveliness, while knowing that I am an introverted old prune with nothing in common with these people. If I think a little more, I can see that quietness and simplicity are at my core, and I cannot escape from this because I don't want to.

My reason for preferring simple quiet to exuberant ceremony is that it is so much easier to reach intuitive comprehension through clarity. I realize this is not true for many people, who find revelation in ceremony and ritual.
It makes no difference anyway. We are all part of whatever.