Consignment: Mindful Grocery Shopping

Grocery shopping to do
And, oh!
What a mood I was in,
Hence I needed to strategize.

The solution was simple,
To really feel this irritation,
And let it emerge,
To truly know it,

Then, well prepared,
Out the door
And down to the street
Experiencing the energy,

Directing it into my task,
But never losing track,
Noticing the effect,
Which was not too good,

For I could sense
The ravages of the stress
Building up inside,
And seething;

But gradually,
As the fresh air
Filled my lungs
And the sun shone gently down

I settled into my route,
And was able to
Act reasonably
For most of the trip,

Only slipping up
On the return journey,
When I temporarily forgot,
And then behaved quite grumpily
When I felt blocked by the folks ahead.

Consideration: Impermanence

The sun is setting,
After a long day of
Sorting through
And discarding.

Musings on the past,
Shuttled by,
As each item
Was filed or cast off,

Of those disposed
Some were given away,
Others to recycling,
And some to trash.

Still barely a dent
In the collection,
And so much reflection
Before the action.

It’s difficult to imagine
It ever all being done,
All this accumulation,
Related to the expectation

That someday these pieces
Would be needed,
And no thoughts arose
On departure or decay,

Of all that was gathered,
Now slipping through the fingers
As water drains away
When hands are washed,

Yet, in the latter case,
There is no sense of loss,
No nostalgia or regret,
No concern or worry,
About the water’s going away.

Considerable: Ill Reversal

Judging, judging, judging,
Where did that come from?
When did it begin?
Drat! I missed again!

I never seem to see
This one coming,
Until it’s too late,
And I’m ripping in every direction.

All the work I did
To bring compassion
To what’s here
Seems to be undone,

As if I tore up the bed sheets
With my teeth,
And followed by shredding
The mattress cover as well!

My jaw locks tightly,
And my expression is grim,
Because nothing is right,
Not a thing is, as I like it!

All is dark and negative,
But it takes so long
For me to notice
That this attitude has set in;

That already I’ve rended the cloth
Until only fluff remains,
And am still searching
For more material to destroy;

What a foolish way
To squander my time,
But I do it anyway,
As if stuck on destruction,
Eventually senselessly snapping at everything.

Conservation: Steady As She Goes

Unpleasant or not,
In the end
I just have to
Keep going,

On and off the cushion,
Continuation is what’s needed,
Persistence,
Getting on with things.

Feelings come and go,
But daily life goes on
With or without
Confidence or fear,

I just have to get up
To meet the day,
For as long as
There are challenges,

In other words,
For as long as life lasts,
Which is unknown
To any of us.

To take charge
Of this energy,
This is the route,
To make it;

To get on Horse
And ride,
As far as I can go,
This is the approach

I took today,
And my beautiful Horse
Carried me all the way,
Through fire and water,
Without pause or hesitation.

Consequently: Dismay Visits Doubt

Tumultuous feelings
Triggered by the tumult,
Old losses and failures;
‘Unpleasant, unpleasant, unpleasant’
Came back to mind,
But intense feelings exploded upward.

Yet, this simple word repeated
Brought about the tiny shift
In perspective needed
To sit with this extreme emotion;

To acknowledge it
Is very difficult indeed,
But to deny it
Does no better.

This reaction is very old
And very deeply felt,
Powerful and real,
But nevertheless only feeling.

Where to go from here?
That’s the question
I seem unable to answer,
And that’s why these feelings are present.

What lies ahead?
I do not know,
And obviously my predictions
Are leaning in the most ominous direction,

I’ve no confidence,
But only fear;
I don’t even care what’s here!
And so I search for reassurance
But find instead a way of letting go
By persisting in my noting,
‘unpleasant, unpleasant, unpleasant.’

Consequent: Repetitive Resound

As if on cue,
The dastardly driller
Recommenced as soon as
Calm had settled in.

Here comes the latest installment
Of this endless lament,
But I’m prepared this time,
Or so I think,

But the work is intermittent,
And so I wait some more.
How ridiculous!
To live in such uproar!

Oh well,
Back to making my own noise
I go!
On with the show!

But only until
The next break,
Whenever that ensues,
And then it may be time for a snooze;

Or, such frustration and dismay,
Could go on all day;
I must find another way,
But I haven’t found it yet.

My composure is disrupted,
Interrupted by fight-or-flight responses,
Which I cannot control,
But only observe.

It’s all nerves
And they are not steel,
But only organic material
Not concrete like the walls
That reverberate during these overhauls.

Consequence: Restlessness

Slept badly,
Perhaps in anticipation
Of the new day’s racket,
But so far, none!

Resorted to assembling tasks
Which match the potential din,
Then wound up doing paperwork
Because of the quiet.

Running out of things to do
That involve no noise,
But still holding out
For signs of construction.

This old pattern
Which repeats every time,
It’s reactive mind
Carrying on as it does.

What the pattern is
Is what it is;
So, why do I
Get bothered about it?

I guess that’s part of
The habit too,
To rant and stomp
Over these inclinations.

Now tiredness
From lack of sleep
Wants to set in,
But I cannot relax,

Will not likely unwind
For some time to come,
Unless the disruption returns,
In which case, who knows
When the next calming interlude will arise.

Consecutive: Still More

Once again awakened
By the vibrations
And reverberations of
The early morning table saw.

Options tried:
Declaring the unpleasant, ‘unpleasant,’
Loving-kindness practice,
Counting breaths and mindfulness of breathing,

Not sure what good it did
But I’m still here,
At least (or is that the bad news?),
When I’m here, that is,

Which I find difficult,
With two hours less sleep
Each and every day
This disturbance persists.

How much longer?
The man speaks
Some language
Unknown to my ears,

How appropriate
For one who keeps
Offending them
With his infernal machinery;

And so,
Onward I go
For how long
I do not know.

Is it possible
To get used to this?
Am I forging new limits here,
Or simply mapping out the borders?

Conjecture: Torrential Musings

It would seem to be
My mission for today,
To plumb the depths
Of unpleasantness;

The renovation saga continues,
As the overhaul of 1208
Enters its second noisy week,
But wait! Something else is here:

Putting a new spin
On beginners’ mind,
I think, ‘There is only
This moment, right?’

Thus, there is no continuation,
But only what’s happening now; so,
Can I let go the weight of yesterday,
And break this rumpus up into discrete bits?

What if I see each instance as,
Never before, never again?
What will that do?
Will this strategy make it easier or harder?

As I listen,
The only disruption
Is my growing irritation;
No harm done to my hearing;

So, what am I fearing?
What is making me jump,
And whinge and fret?
Could it be mind only?

And if so,
Can I stop that?
Can I merely notice and forget
Each instance as,
Never before, never again?

Congruity: Drifting

Another muggy day,
Chores to do,
Bills to pay,

No vacation
For this aspirant,
Continuous exertion
All the way;

Yet relaxing interludes
Break up the tension slightly,
Like sunlight
Through the gaps in the clouds.

Inside the clouds
It’s difficult
To remember sunlight,
But sometimes I succeed,

Then I wonder at
How that’s possible,
Even though
It’s so ordinary,

Such fascination
Over such an everyday occurrence,
I never seem to tire
Of this simple view;

I keep returning
And marveling,
Forgetting
And remembering;

All day long
I do it,
Often not knowing it,
And even when I know,
Not knowing why I do it.

Conflicting: Dissonance

The drilling began
At 10:15 am,
Growling and whining
Like an irate wild cat.

When I inquired
At my neighbour’s door,
To my surprise, he replied with,
“I have to get dressed;”

But when the door opened,
The young man who appeared,
Wore nothing but a pair
Of very brief blue briefs.

“I’ll be through
In five minutes,”
He reassured me.
Ha! I didn’t believe it!

Drilling naked?
There’s a new twist
Isn’t that kind of risky?
Or at least, that’s what I would guess.

What’s that got to do with practice?
Not much, perhaps,
At best, it only gave me
Some brief comic relief.

As predicted, the angry feline would not lie down;
So, I immersed myself in satisfaction
And from there observed my reaction,
Which was enormous tension,

And in the silences in between,
Full of chaotic energy,
Dancing and whirling
Throughout my entire being.

Confined: Sloth, Torpor and Doubt

A lazy Saturday,
At least for now,
The humid weather
Making everything sweat,

The clamminess irks,
A migraine lurks
Fuzzying the mind,
And slowing the wit;

So sitting becomes
A contest with
Sloth and torpor,
And far out fantasies;

Doubt stumbles in with,
Breathing?
What’s that?
Why bother?

The brain is too swamped,
And the body aches
From the soggy atmosphere
That engulfs everything.

What’s needed perhaps is
A good foghorn,
To steer by
In the mist;

Or shall I just
Trust my gut
And sail on
By instinct?

I feel so weighted down,
Could it be
I’ve accidentally dropped
The anchor?
Is that what’s holding me back here?

Confidence: Loving-kindness Deepens

Today I see my heart at work,
Engaging with the practice
Of loving-kindness.

Loud drilling
Rattles my fillings,
This crazy constructor
Keeps re-appearing,

But turning towards
Rage, irritation, fear and tension,
I eagerly greet each,
Open and there find a compassionate heart,

As bliss, peace and loving kindness
Surge and spill all over
All disturbances
And intermingle.

I’ve cultivated
Loving kindness
From above
For many days,

And now from below
The heart stretches upwards
As after a long sleep
To embrace its cultivated counterpart;

It’s as if the natural heart
Desires to connect the dots
Between itself and the compassion
Welling up from my steady practice.

On the embers of loving-kindness I blow,
Yet letting the more tumultuous visitors know
They too are welcome here,
All belong,
None is excluded,
None is wrong.

Confided: Craving

Full of ‘I want,
I want,’
But turned
Towards it,

First time ever
Accepted this
Insistent visitor
With equanimity,

‘Welcome friend,
It’s natural
For you
To be here;’

And then
I fed
The daemon
To satisfaction.

Resting in
The fulfillment
That followed
The tasty meal,

The calm and quiet
That made me feel
So contented
And at ease,

The gaping mouth
So effortless to sate,
Such a surprise
Given the intensity
In the shark’s eyes;
But with a little sadness too
For, oh, what perils and fires
This denizen of the deep
Has had to swim through
Over the years.

Conference: Practicing with Wise Speech

Disconnections,
Misconceptions,
Misunderstandings,
And such like snafus,

That’s today’s news,
But I refuse
To despair
Or cease to care,

I shall continue to try
And see eye to eye,
With those who confuse
Or are confused by

My particular way or style;
I’ll just wait a while,
Practice patience
Until I can do it

Without losing my balance,
My resolve will
See me through it,
Listening and clarifying,

Or simply accepting
And moving on
To the next item
In our communication,

No wasting time
Correcting what’s past,
But instead looking forward
To the next impasse;

‘That’ll be interesting,’
I’ll think, ‘Another opportunity
To fall into the sink,
But maybe this time I’ll test the waters,
Before I drink!’

Confederacy: All and One

Dreams and fantasies
All over the place,
Objects of love
Clutter this place,

Filled to capacity
With reminders
Of past joys,
Scattered about like abandoned toys.

Stacks of books
And papers boxed up,
So many memories
In every dish and cup,

Difficult to let them go
Along with the dust,
But even this body
Dissolves as it must.

All of it comes
And all of it goes,
Arises and passes,
Yet remains in its place,

Matter transforms
In an endless dance,
In which “I”
Becomes entranced,

But then recognizes its own emptiness,
What a shock, an endless surprise!
How “I” disappears/reappears/disappears, and so on,
Seen through its own eyes;

Neither peering out
Nor peering in, just seeing,
Sitting on and being everything at once
And getting dizzy from this view
Of being.

Conduit: Unpleasant Opening

Chapter two of
The renovators;
Hurricane force winds
Stir up the waters,

Back to thinking,
“Unpleasant, unpleasant,”
And so forth,
And “pleasant, pleasant” in between.

What a tempest,
How the swells rage,
Washing up a disagreeable opportunity
To see more clearly,

And already seen
Is how awareness of unpleasant
Makes pleasant more so,
And how they intermingle;

Gradually understanding grows
That both are together,
And it’s a matter of emphasis,
But hard work all the same!

The test will be
Whether acknowledging unpleasant/pleasant,
Can prevent these noisy interlopers
From toppling the mast;

Will this practice help?
Or will this gale
Overturn the boat?
The outcome is yet to be discovered,

The result to be determined,
But either way, may any merit
Accrued by this effort,
Be shared by all sentient beings:
May they too benefit from this practice!

Conduct: Metta Cultivation

After reflecting upon
Cultivating positive states,
Taking a step
By nurturing metta.

Satisfaction overflowed,
Ease unfolded,
Keeping it going
Afloat in peace,

Flowing through
Like water through
A green tea bag,
Picking up that gentle taste,

Making no haste
Slipping past
And absorbing the flavour,
A delicate savour.

Glowing with contentment,
Abiding in happiness,
Enjoyment without grasping,
Gratification without clinging;

What a welcome respite
From life’s difficult fight;
No struggle tonight,
No miserable up tight,

No reason for flight,
Nor frozen fright;
Inhaling the aroma
Of the verdant liquid,

Watching the swirling foam
And sipping in the warm fluid;
Delighting in pure moments
Of suspension of the tensions.

Conducive: Lightening the Load

A whirlwind Saturday:
Grocery shopping,
Vegetable chopping,
Reflection and meditation;

Long on reflection,
Short on meditation;
Decided to slow down
And see what that does,

Because you see,
I had actually given up,
And concluded from this result
That I’d pushed too hard;

A light touch
Certainly feels better;
It’s more respectful,
And compassionate;

I think I will continue,
Easing up on the rudder
And enjoying the view,
Instead of racing.

Where am I going anyway?
There’s no need to press,
No expectations was the place
From which I started this;

Then I got ideas,
And forgot to take it slow,
Which did not help
And may indeed have impeded.

Patience is what’s needed,
That and a willingness
To explore whatever comes forth,
But also, to know enough to stop,
When stormy seas get too rough.

Conditions: The Pleasant in the Unpleasant

I’m really stumped
For what to say;
It’s been like this
Since the commotion today;

Yet, I always manage
To come up with
Some little poem
On what’s afoot.

I was concentrated
Down to my toes
On what I was reading,
When the renovations started,

Then began my steaming,
Until I remembered
A simple practice
Recently reviewed,

Of noticing the unpleasant,
Then enjoying
The tiny quiet interludes
In between.

This plain approach effectively
Blocked the irritation,
Reduced my frustration,
Decreasing my distress.

My ease increased,
Enabling me to relax
Until the demonic din ceased
And the distracters departed.

By then there was
Such relief,
I forgot all else
And simply enjoyed the peace.

Conditioned: Ill Will

Wordless,
Speechless,
I stare
At the page,

Empty of thoughts,
Vacant of purpose
Where to from here?
Cloudy or clear?

Ill will haunts the mind
Like a stray cat
Hunting for mice on which to pounce
In an abandoned barn,

And finding none
Frets about,
Jumping at noises
And lunging at light beams.

Meanwhile, outside
The sun sets,
The glow subsides
Into darkness.

The cat resorts to
Pouncing on
The lengthening shadows
Until it tires of this futile sport.

Frustration sets in,
And the feline yowls
Then listens for
Some answering howl.

Concepts: Up and Down

Scattered showers
In the mind,
Just like the weather
No peace to find.

Looking from tranquility
Into the storm,
I see only torrents
And puddles of water.

Soon I’ll be back
Under the showers;
Then I’ll be seeing
Sunshine again.

Back and forth
From one to other,
From happiness to misery:
This is how it goes.

One day maybe I’ll stop wavering,
Possibly even today,
But until then
I’ll just have to sway:

Weaving in and out
Of the clouds,
From sky to overcast,
From darkness to light;

It gets so tedious
I’d like to stop,
But I can’t seem to
Stay up, I have to drop.

Down I go
Into the flood,
And then from there
Once again I look up.

Concentrate: Body Talk

Staying close
To the body,
Noticing
Its moods,

Seeing how
Thinking
Stirs this
Sensitive form;

But then,
Turning towards these feelings
Restores
Calm.

I set
The intention
To return
Again and again,

To follow
From thought
To body and back
When the vibrations settle.

The tension softens
And pleasant sensations
Flow from body to mind
In a gentle stream;

Bathing in the glow,
Comfortably relaxed,
How simple,
How profound:

This straightforward practice
Produces such beautiful results,
And can be done anywhere
Without any special equipment
Or ado.

Comrades: Friendly Spirits

The daemons doze,
Their little tails
Curled around
Their scaly bodies.

Meanwhile, Horse,
Bear,
And Young Woman
Stay close by my bed;

I stroke Horse’s head,
And give Bear a hug;
I know this reads like
Some kind of fairy tale!

All is calm,
And I rest carefree,
Unperturbed by anything,
Breathtakingly still:

No waves break
The pond,
Nor stir
The muck below;

I don’t know
How far
This will go,
But it is so enjoyable.

Who knew
Fantasy could be
So real,
Or so comforting?

I never would have guessed,
No, not ever predicted
That such esoteric practice
Could bring such peace.

Comprehensive: Everything and Nothing

Have I finally lost
My sanity?
I have found an intriguing practice*
That involves visualization,

Interacting with one’s daemons,
And feeding them
Until they fade
And become allies.

Mostly
I’ve been feeding shark-like creatures
Until they thin out
And transform.

My mind has conjured up a team:
A female protector,
A horse, and a bear;
What next, I’ll tell you:

One day, while I was
Ruminating on my plight
The Bear said,
‘Try seeing things my way!’

To which the Horse added
‘You tell it, Bear!’
And so I traded places
And now see how this works:

This practice is said to reveal
The inherent emptiness
Of all phenomena, and so it does!
How fascinating!
Not to mention, entertaining.
Am I faking?
You decide.


_______________

*Feeding Your Demons, by Tsultrim Allione (New York: Little Brown & Co., 2008)

Comprehensible: Plain Talk

If you can’t make
Things better,
At least don’t
Make them no worse:

It’s so obvious,
Not even Buddhist,
Just not so common sense
Because naturally it’s quite uncommon.

But by all means
Make things better
If you can,
Which may be small:

Even taking off
One’s wet socks
And putting on
A dry pair,

Or donning
Clean underwear,
Or getting up
From one’s chair;

Even making supper
Can please,
And bring ease;
It’s really a breeze;

Even a good sneeze
Into a hanky
Can bring relief and a smile
To one’s countenance.

There’s no trouble
In less suffering
No loss in less difficulty,
Even if one never awakens,
Or even gets a taste of that feast.

Compound: Double Doubt

Some days it seems
I need an elephant
To pull me out of bed;
It’s such a struggle,

I’m in such a muddle,
Wild horses
Could not do the job,
Though one Buddha might.

Alas, where do they go?
Where do they come from?
For that matter,
What mindless speculation!

Sorry but
I’m afraid
That’s all I have
At the moment;

It’s really silly
Or quite pathetic
Depending on
Where you put it.

I wouldn’t bet
On my chances today;
I’m not feeling sprightly,
In fact I’m failing mightily.

My discouragement
Towers over me;
It overpowers me,
And makes me feel weak;

I’m not at my peak today,
No way!
If this is progress
I want a refund!
How unprofound can you get?

Composure: River Rerun

I climbed back
Up the mountain
To try shooting
The rapids again;

Inflating my rubber raft
I set my rudder;
What a ride!
Turmoil inside and out,

Deeper than the river,
Wider than the sky;
What a beautiful day
To rush a cataract.

The wind blows
Through my hair,
The waves overflow
And shake the boat,

Amazing that
I’m still afloat
Or not washed away
Into the bay.

So far below
Into the waves,
I see nothing
But blue sky,

Down the chute
I go then back up
To the roof,
And what a view!

I can see the coast
Below and the ships
At sea beyond;
It’s such a thrill
But alas only temporary.

Complication: Screaming River

Downhill all the way,
Time wasted all day;
What a harrowing trip
To the mountain bottom;

Washed away
By a valley stream,
Going flowing;
What a dream,

A nightmare in fact,
An apple cider fountain
Burns my tongue
And chills my bones;

Where am I going
With this?
I wonder
I hear thunder.

Oh no!
And the rains came,
Tumbling down
The waterfall I go;

Cascading balls of fire
And whirlwinds
Buffet the shore,
And the river winds down

Until it comes to the sea;
And I’m back on
The ocean again
Lying on a bed of kelp,

Calling for help,
‘Oh, great galloping Buddha!
What have I gotten
Myself into now!’

Complex: From Temple Pillock to Fenceposts

Sometimes practice begins with
Sitting meditation,
And at other times with
Picking oneself up off the floor!

Or, at least,
So it is for me
On days like this,
When rain pounds and wind pummels.

What happens
Between one day
And the other?
Who can say?

Bad news
I suppose:
I never could
Hold my bad news;

Possibly I’d prefer Scotch neat,
But that would only
Dull the senses
And mend no fences.

My rails have come down probably,
Or I’ve fallen off them maybe;
Either way,
I’ve been hanging wire mesh all day.

There’s no way to avoid it:
I have to weld the staple gun;
It’s no fun,
And I’ve only just begun.

The sun is setting though,
Putting on a free show
For all who care to see;
And so, I temporarily set aside my tools
To take in this heartening spectacle.