Devotional: Uninhibited Awareness

The frigid weather returns;
So much fuel has to be burned
To keep everybody warm
In the face of the oncoming storm,

Meanwhile, the heart remains steady,
Hospitable to all that’s on,
Receptive to the changeable climate within,
Offering comfort to the churning inner winds;

Mindfulness is the ally in this,
For then not even the slightest flutter is missed
And attention can be directed
Towards whatever’s amiss

And from inside the awareness,
From this vibrant process,
So often now there’s such bliss,
Such joy, such delight,

Happiness gushes forth and energy abounds,
The joy in this consciousness
Fills the inner screen
And leads to such peace;

Not sure how this happened
But the ease keeps increasing,
Especially each time I apply
The metta phrases

But often even when
Merely coming from
The awareness direction,
And enhanced by not clinging;

Letting go of form,
Of feeling, of perception,
Of thought and consciousness
Brings about a lightness
That is wondrous to behold!

Devotion: Staying on Course

Now taking time for silent sitting,
Drinking in the quiet, settling,
Bathed in ease,
Fully alert and at peace,

Gradually opening attention to all that’s present:
Heat and tingling in the body,
Vibrations in the ears,
Previously unnoticed background sounds,

Traffic roars far below,
Doors open and close,
Footsteps patter on tiles,
Ventilation system hums;

Then metta phrases flit through mind,
Gently massaging the inner clime,
Slowly compassion grows,
Sheltered as in a greenhouse it glows,

These tiny seeds planted each day
Sprout the next,
Bursting upward through the soil,
Filling open space with vibrant colour;

Results already visible from
The regular application of this effort
That first began with metta towards myself
And spontaneously enveloped all beings;

Like a plant growing towards the light
Mind recognizes what’s good for it:
When it discovers something beneficial,
It reaches keenly in that direction

And upon careful inspection and experimentation,
Finds its way into a haven,
A place from which it can turn outward
And calmly face the world’s raving.

Devote: Practicing Patience

As things are going
Ever so well,
I will cultivate the patience
To endure any unexpected downfall,

This will perfect my effort,
Keeping me on track,
Should stormy seas
Or great misfortune attack;

I strive to unpack
All the virtues needed to succeed,
In uprooting the poisons
Of hatred, ignorance and greed,

And armed with patience
I will persist
In the face of difficulties
That challenge my resolve;

So that, when there are problems to solve,
I will not balk or shrink
From wading in
Or hesitate when confronting them,

Slow progress will not deter
My continuing efforts to do better
And I will be prepared to wait
For fierce headwinds to abate;

Gradual headway is not too late
But only preparation for passing through the next gate,
Towards a fuller and happier state
That will at last emerge on the appropriate date,

And then all will be well
For another interval,
Until the next obstacle appears
Before more clear seeing eyes.

Development: Regulating Effort

Traces of irritability
Have begun to arise,
Signaling the need
To reappraise;

Decision made
To slow the pace,
Inserting metta
And yoga stretching into its place,

Pausing regularly
To reconnect with body and mind
Rejuvenates both, helps unwind
And prevents my work from becoming a grind;

Making even effort into a habit
Ensures a stable energy supply,
Which enables me to apply
A steady hand upon which I can rely;

Then my tasks go smoothly
And I do not tire,
As my vigour does not expire
But continues to rise even higher,

And in my metta wishes
I include the following:
That I may direct this fuel
In the wisest way,

The consequences of which will be
Even more zest with which I may
Accomplish ever more and stay
On track with what I need to do;

And now, as I prepare to resume my tasks,
I wish everyone the same good fortune,
To have enough strength and discretion
To make consistent their efforts
And aim them in a wise direction.

Determined: Returning to Effort

Snags may come and go
But the river still flows,
Regardless of the trees that fall
And clutter up the stream,

Fishes shelter from the hot sun
Beneath the boughs
Or conceal themselves from predators
While the leafy green persists,

Until death and decay take them both,
Which is after all the direction we all take
No matter what we do,
So we might as well relax into the water,

Floating along as far as we can
Through the sparkling turbulence,
Down the waterfalls
And over the smooth stretches,

Cruising into the estuaries,
Beyond which the sea beckons,
Gliding over the waves
Or slipping below them to the sandy bottom,

Resting there for how long?
Or maybe simply dissolving
For who knows what duration?
Or how often;

Is there another shore
Upon which we climb?
Or is it really the end
Of our journey to which we are going?

Finally, I abandon these fruitless musings
And return to the glow of metta fires,
Embracing the happiness to which my heart aspires,
Leaving behind all doubts and desires.

Detective: Looking For Wisdom

No breaks from busyness
But energy abounds,
Joyful activity replaces
Glum speculation’s confounds,

Working quietly
Uncluttered by unnecessary noise,
Holding a straight course
With surprising poise;

Is this a new voyage?
Or only an interlude?
Past experience suggests the latter,
Delusion the former,

But, although I see,
I’m still bamboozled so easily!
Into thinking and believing these thoughts
That at last I’m home free,

I know that trouble must be lurking
And keep reminding myself to avoid shirking,
Lest I be caught
By some unexpected glitch

But if when finally there’s a hitch
I fear I’ll fall into a pit,
And if I have to take another hit
I doubt I’ll enjoy that one bit!

How does one overcome this kind of blindness?
What is this secret that I’m missing?
Or could it only be a myth?
That we can bypass this pothole?

How to evade this chasm?
If only it was an actual road,
One could go around safely,
Could it yet he so simple?

Detection: Sides of a Coin

Racing the clock
But with considerable ease,
Mind and body fully engaged,
Yet holding steady at a regular pace,

Pausing only to meditate,
Absorbed in stillness,
Watching body and mind
Busily buzzing,

Aches, pains and tingling fizz,
Sounds and scents permeate and pass,
Colours and shapes form and dissolve in the sensory gloom,
Thoughts and emotions blossom and bloom;

Completely feeling experience,
Then turning towards awareness
And comparing its strength,
Seeing events in relation to consciousness,

And now from awareness
Extending acceptance
To whatever’s transpiring,
Wherever it occurs,

Connecting to the eternal stream
From which loving-kindness flows,
Gently touching every corner of being,
Until shining light explodes inside the mind’s eye,

Finally preparing to resume,
Making room for acceptance
In the rapid zoom
Of daily life;

Confidently striving on,
Enfolded in a field of calm,
Gracefully striding along,
Re-embracing the bustle.

Detained: Mindfully Catching Up

I’m way behind
But I’ll catch up,
Meanwhile, have to keep going
As long as my work,

The pace is rapid
And my energy is high,
I’ve achieved a rhythm
That keeps me flying,

Don’t know when
I will be arriving,
As the tasks keep up-piling
But the job is un-tiring,

I seem to accumulate more fuel
The faster I go,
My spirits are soaring
And nothing is boring,

The attention is infused with joy
And delight upwelling,
To be so smoothing running
Is such a truly rare thing,

How far will I go?
I wonder,
I don’t hear any thunder
But there must be rain some time,

Looking over my shoulder,
I see no dark clouds loom
But experience says,
This upbeat mood is doomed,

So, I’m on the alert
For whatever’s coming,
No time for napping
Or letting up on my mindfulness practicing.

Detailed: Exploration

Frenzied activity
And plenty of reactivity
But also serenity
And response-ability;

It’s not difficult to see
And easy to get lost,
Involvement and non-attachment
Are never far apart,

As one dissolves into the other
Or they co-exist,
One in the foreground,
The other in the background;

What’s happening
Appears to arise from nothing,
With no past/present/future,
Only stories or speculations,

Fully recognized
As being just that,
As far as I can determine,
As how could otherwise be proven or disproven?

Melting into action
And reconstituting,
Weaving in and out
The thread of awareness,

Exploring the moment
And forgetting it again,
Losing it and getting it back
In a never ending dance;

So much going on,
And everything happening,
Feeling it, noticing it,
Observing from awareness.

Destination: Nothing is Wrong

Sleeping badly again,
Moods lurching and agitation driving,
Stirring up the dirt road along which I travel,
Sending the gravel flying,

The snow is pelting down,
The thermometer is dropping
Into the danger zone
And I’m working again tonight,

But nothing is wrong,
Everything feels just right,
Is it just because
Everything is really going my way?

Have I finally hit
A paved highway?
Or could I just be
In the wrong lane?

Either way, all day today
The feeling that all is well
Regardless of what’s happening, recurred,
Even though the usual troubles continued

And although it doesn’t feel like it,
Maybe it’s merely conditions
That I cannot yet see
Or do not fathom,

But whatever I think is going on,
There is a background here
That accepts the foreground
No matter what’s in it,

It’s like my whatever’s-on-sale stew,
Which always seems to suit me fine,
Although it isn’t mine
But like everything else,
Only reality expressing itself.

Designedly: Getting Involved

Crazy day at the supermarket,
Everyone seemed to be there,
Jostling and long line ups the rule,
Bustling, rustling and hustling,

Accident prone too,
As my oatmeal sack went bust
And another customer’s
Plastic bag burst;

Oatmeal flakes leaked out
And slipped through my fingers
And I had to exchange it
Before proceeding further,

Tin cans spilled out
All over the floor
But soon were picked up
And repacked once more,

Running the shopping cart gauntlet
On the way out the door,
Bundled up and trudging home
Through the cold damp air

But what a relief
To get out of there,
Get home
And stow it all away

And so another mundane activity complete,
On a typical day,
The universe at play,
The world in brief;

And at last I settled in
For a tea and a break
From the hectic pace
In preparation for the next race.

Designation: Bags of Salt

I didn’t know that I knew “this,”
But even that which I now know I knew
Is unknown, meaning, I don’t know that either!
And how could this possibly be taught?

I always knew “this,” but what is this, “this”
That I’ve always known? —I have no idea!
The “this,” that I know that I don’t know,
How could this be learned?

Luckily for me, I’m not a Dharma teacher!
But every now and then
There is this powerful desire
To try to help,

But I think this desire,
This most dangerous longing
To help
Just gets in the way,

I think maybe we help
In ways we don’t know,
Without knowing it
And that perhaps this is the best helping of all;

Our desire to know we’re helping,
Maybe is just ego—whatever that is!
So maybe metta just fulfills this desire
And gets it out of the way,

So that we can just get on with doing
Whatever it is we are really doing,
Whatever role we truly play in “this,”
Whatever “this” is,

And, in fact, my teacher has likely helped best
In the ways she doesn’t even know,
Which if I tried to explain
She probably would not understand,
Because it’s got nothing to do with her.

Descriptive: Stirring Things Up

Entering into a marathon of work,
That should occupy the mind,
As have to keep pace
For quite a long time,

Few opportunities for pondering,
Or capricious mind wandering
Or for getting stuck on
The inner world’s ramblings,

Have to stay concentrated
On what needs to be done,
On the job and at home
Regardless of the mood,

Keeping attention on the tasks
With few moments to rest
But how to stay relaxed
Within the busyness, that’s the challenge!

Seeking the balance
Between too tight and too loose,
Too dispersed and too focused
Takes effort to notice

But still I get caught
On surging negative thoughts,
‘What’s this about?’
No, no, not that question

But instead, ‘what’s the skillful response?’
Amidst cooking oatmeal
Immediately, the answer flashed,
‘Just make oatmeal;’

Stirring the oatmeal,
I am stirred
And I stir everything,
Watching everything stirring,
‘I’ dissolves into the pot.

Derangement: Agitated Mindfulness

The aftermath spins,
Breathing in
Breathing out
Noticing what’s happening,

Practicing with metta,
Stretching and exercising,
Trying to keep the mind
Away from the frying pan,

Woke up too early
In a sweat,
Couldn’t get back to sleep
And tossed and turned instead;

Sleepily got up
And stumbled to the kitchen,
Prepared the coffee
And popped a patty in the toaster oven,

Pacing up and down,
Bemusement abounds,
Still not sure what to do,
Contemplating the rumination stew,

Eating very slowly,
Almost forgetting the second course,
Waiting for the oatmeal
And considering the best course;

All to quickly
The day wore on
And so little got done
As the mind churned on;

Very repetitive
These distracting thoughts
But I can’t get ahead of them
Nor let these notions drop.

Deputation: Taking Charge

Disappointment coloured,
Sadness upwelled,
Fatigue followed discouragement
Then entered forgetfulness

And this paralysis
Irritated the joints
And stiffened the muscles
Causing pain and discomfort;

The remedy was
To arouse energy
By mental and physical effort,
Thereby pushing through this blindness,

Blinking in the sunlight flooding in,
Rejoicing in the glow,
Surrounded by flow,
Embraced by comfort,

But drowsiness set in again,
Time to really get going,
Brew my tea up
And fill my teacup,

Put supper on the stove,
Chopping the vegetables vigorously
And enthusiastically grating the cheese,
Add the spices and serve with ease,

‘Now I’m getting somewhere,’
I thought, even though
I inhabited the same predicament
But I’d forgotten all about that,

For a while I found peace
Amidst the mundane bustle
And the feast of macaroni and cheese,
Settling down for now at least.

Depth: Exploring the Heart

Still hurting from yesterday
But what more is there to say?
Heart broken
But still open;

The open heart’s elasticity
Enables it to hold everything we feel,
Its resilience stimulates all wounds to heal
And lets every arrow pass through unimpeded

But still a delicate touch is needed
To dislodge those projectiles that get stuck
Or expel them as needed,
Clearing the way for whatever’s next.

In the meantime, there is much waiting,
A lot of patience
And a great deal of training,
As the process continues unabated;

Continuously the river flows
Around the rocks and down the waterfalls,
Turbulently in places
And where more smoothly it slows;

Oh, such a long way to go
And yet I’m always there,
If only I could see what should be clear
But by the hindrances is obscured.

Then again, looking through them I can see
They are transparent and temporary,
Soon the sun will rise
And penetrate the darkness and disperse the mist

Revealing the glittering waters
And the purity of the stream,
Which reflects the sunbeams’ gleams,
Brightens the heart and cools the steam.

Deployment: Mustering the Troops

After a rather unsuccessful
Grocery shopping expedition
During which no affordable
Produce could be found,

Came home to find a large envelope
Containing therein, a long letter
Bubbling over with unexpected vehemence,
Or was it righteous indignation?

Either way, tea and supper could not wait,
As to work I had to go, as all late shift people do,
And so, putting this flaming appetizer aside
Set out to generate my own heat on the stove,

Thinking, ‘if I have macaroni and cheese,
I’ll have to use up the last
Of the peppers and most of the broccoli,
Plus some cabbage rolls;

Alternatively,’ I mused,
‘I could break out the stock
And do same as above,
Or dig into my emergency vegetable soup supply;

Whatever option I go with, things are tight
And so, I have no energy for fighting,
Luxuries of this sort are for those
Who can afford such petty indulgences.

This latest invective will only drive me away
But nothing is wrong, oh no!
This is merely reality’s handshake,
Proffered over vigorously,

“When a Mother tiger gets upset
She eats her young,” or so I’ve heard
And my simple reply to this observation is,
“How very human of her!”

Depleted: Running Low on Supplies

To grocery shop or not,
What a dilemma;
There’s a storm front coming
And little produce in the fridge,

But it’s Friday afternoon
And I’m short on time,
Besides, how many others
May get the same idea?

And seeing as I’m running late
Due to fatigue and poor sleep,
There’s the question of place,
As in, will nearby stores be affordable?

I could just take a chance and see,
But how will I feel?
With this ridiculous chronic condition
I never know, and I’m working tonight.

Plus, I have to get some cash,
Oh, I fear twill be such a mad dash
And don’t know what I’ll find,
Will it only make me more behind?

It’s so frustrating
How often this happens,
Dithering and fiddling
I squander even more valuable time,

‘Take a breath!’ I think,
But tension always seems to arise
When the larder gets low,
Not sure why, some ancient instinct perhaps?

Either way, I get caught
And can’t seem to process it;
There’s no relaxing
When this craving comes calling.

Denting: What Helps

Awakened amidst negative thoughts emerging,
Surging aversion, doubts and gloomy mourning
Over mixed results and bad effects
Hijacked the attention,

But then from somewhere inside,
A voice inquired,
‘What can I do to help?’
And the response was metta,

The familiar phrases
Flooding upward gently,
Floating repeatedly
Through the agitated mind;

The comforting words
Flowed freely,
In accordance with
What was most needed,

And soon sparkling energy
Replaced lethargy,
Positive sentiments
Overcame negativity.

This mind operates best
When not oppressed
By unhelpful ruminations
On unpredictable frustrations,

Instead of obsessing
On what I think is wrong,
Which stresses the mind
And generates discouragement,

Evoking positive thoughts and feelings,
As a mind conditioned by these
Functions smoothly and with ease,
Arousing a sense of purpose and confidence
And sharpening the wits.

Density: Probing the Mundane

All things eternal seem close tonight,
As soon as I sat I felt
The opening inner eye,
The channel locking in,

Reality vibrating,
Material and immaterial
Flicking in and out of existence,
Feeling the connection,

And yet,
Viewing this blank page
Inspired me not one bit!
How can that be?

I’m no nearer to integrating
Infinity and the mundane,
That’s always the same,
The repeating aggravation,

So, back to paper sorting,
Reading selections from
The endless stream of mail
And throwing out again;

Used to be I’d watch TV
Or listen to something
While I was doing this
But I did it a cappella,

It seemed appropriate
To be fully aware
And caused no difficulty, except
Reminding me how I miss TV,

Time was, you just plugged it in
But now, complex and expensive,
At least around here,
And so, I keep trying to plug in
To infinity instead!

Denote: Arising

More running around,
More returning purchases;
The post-Yule hangover continues
But there’s so much energy in it!

Then, amidst the hullabaloo,
I pause to metta
And breathe and know
All that I’m doing,

The body’s aches
And inner processes,
The rushing mind
Teeming with thoughts,

But, oh what a relief
To just sit for a while
And let the river
Flow around and through,

The lunging stream
Grows quiet briefly
Before the momentum
Of busyness catches up

And the mind sizzles
And crackles, sparks flying,
Flames arising
And floating upon the watery surface;

I have barely sat ten minutes
When I feel the urge
To fly up from the chair
And do some more!

It feels so wonderful,
After so many days of idleness
Due to recurrent and chronic illness
To finally accomplish something useful,
That I don’t regret one single minute!

Demonstrative: Fizzing

Wow! What a blizzard of a day,
Whiz bang! Running around
Barely time to catch breaths,
Let alone count them!

Don’t know what
It will amount to
In the long term,
Still plenty to learn,

What else can I say?
Just when I thought
I had time to rest
More work came to call,

And I was happy to have it
But now I’m still at it,
Adding to my load
As I jog down the road,

Towards what? I wonder.
This next day I’ll be tested
Will be just as busy
And no further ahead,

My inbox is always full,
My calendar is never empty,
The time may pass slowly
Or quickly, but on it goes;

There’s so much going on
Besides these words, I know,
And I'm so tired and keyed up
From this endless go;

It’s difficult to stop
When the energy’s so hot
And with Fibromyalgia I never know
When I’ll be sidelined or for how long,
So I feel that I have to keep going.

Demonstration: Mind Wander

Spider crawls unsteadily,
Slipping and sliding across the wall,
Front legs extended like climbing poles,
Tentatively probing each step,
Falling but getting caught by its silken safety line,

And as I watch the tiny arachnid’s struggle,
I can’t think what’s its aim
And pause to ponder, ‘what keeps it going
In the absence of fame or blame?’

Presently, the spider disappears
Inside the crack between door frame and wall,
Perhaps to sleep ‘til spring comes to call;
But, I press on, resuming my work,

Striving late into the night
Before I take a break,
As many concerns keep me awake,
A myriad of decisions await,

But certainly nothing as serious
As the spider’s choices
About safe spaces to rest
Or suspend and set its insect net;

And so, breathing in a fresh breath
And exhaling deeply,
I don’t feel sleepy
But full of energy,

The agitation seethes,
Accompanied by muscle tension;
I try to release,
Tell the body to relax,

Let go into tingling, burning and churning,
Experiencing completely the restless sea,
Then take a deep breath
And return to my tasks.

Demarcate: Unsatisfactoryness

I woke up this morning, put my breakfast on to bake in the toaster oven, and then thought about what to do while I was waiting. I found that I just wanted to sit and enjoy sitting. When I sat and there was a feeling of energy, of slight agitation and relief. Then I concluded that part of the pleasure of sitting was the relief of being at rest after having been so active and now being able to sit down. But in no time my thoughts got going and then turned towards writing this down.

When I consider many of the things I was taught that I took to be the way things are, I see flaws in every one. So, for example, when I took shop in high school, I was told: “the function dictates the form.” In other words, when you design a product, you should first consider the function to which it is to be put, and based on that decide the form it should take. Nowadays, however, it seems to me that a lot of products are sold based on glitzy, shining, colourful design and packaging, aggressive pricing and various marketing techniques, from the in-your-face to the more subtle. But, even if one tries to follow the function first, it depends on who’s designing it and who’s using it, and so often we see products designed by engineers in accordance with what they find functional vs. what the average non-technical person finds easy to use and helpful.

Where I’m going with this is that in every bit of conventional wisdom that I come across, or even the non-conventional variety, I find unsatisfactoryness is sure to follow, as I always discover a glitch. And, of course, I believe that was one of the Buddha’s points. So, here I’ve been thinking there was something wrong all the time, only to encounter a view that says that my discovery is unoriginal business as usual. I’ve gotten hung up on this little bit of unsatisfactoryness so often and suffered from it so much, and I just can’t seem to stop doing it. Finding out what’s “wrong,” about any given hypothesis or theory has become a habit, but as for where to go from there, I still haven’t quite got that part.

Perhaps that’s where the compassion comes in, that we are all in the same boat, even though a lot of us don’t know it. But from here, I can see how not clinging can reduce the suffering. If we hold to ideas we find a lot of suffering. If we hold on to stuff, whether it be hardware or software, so-called durable and non-durable goods, we suffer. If we don’t, we don’t. If we hold onto our suffering we suffer from that too. And given our propensity for both, there’s plenty of room for compassion in this equation!

Demanding: Material Fatigue

Post-holiday de-shopping,
Having been through
The bargain sale wars,
As return deadlines loom
The decision pressure mounts,

What works?
And what to keep?
Connecting up the electronics,
And seeing
The results;

How to bring practice
To this?
Definitely an occasion
To reflect upon
Impermanence, unsatisfactoryness and not-self,

As none of these contraptions
Will last,
Some will not meet
The inflated expectations,
And in the end, none are me or mine;

Or so I said to myself,
When feeling frustrated
With all the hassles
Of grappling with the
New technologies;

Besides, it’s just
Another set of skills to master
And a good work out
For the brain,
Which has been somewhat underused lately.

Anyhow, I think now
A rest is in order
From this constant patter,
Before resuming consideration of the matter.

Delving: Effort

Facing the inner firestorm
Has brought about
A most interesting result:
A new determination,
A goal directed effort,

Which, although
It waxes and wanes,
As all new skills do
Before they’re well established,

Consists of
A persistence, an insistence
Upon happiness,
Regardless of the outer conditions,

A striving towards
Joy and delight,
Contentment and peacefulness
In relation to all that is,

The great struggle
With the inner tempest,
Makes the outer world
Seem so much smaller,
And ultimately
Too weak to intrude
Upon the inner quietude;

Perhaps I begin to see
What may be gained
By exerting effort
In this direction,
The vital connection
Between the inner
And outer domains,
How they can intersect and interact
In such a useful way,
With the right amount and quality of effort.

Delusion: Bountiful Breakfast

For the past week
I’ve been eating eggs
Almost every day,
Because the expiry date
Was looming;

Then, I was always craving
Something else,
As if my mind resented
The imposition
Of this perfectly reasonable repast;

Now the eggs are gone,
And I’m back to eating
Jamaican patties,
And I’ve started
Craving eggs!

How ridiculous it is
To be always craving
Something I don’t have,
And begrudging
What’s right in front of me!

But for now it seems
All I can do
Is observe this foolishness
And eat my breakfast
With all the gratitude I can muster,

That I woke up to
A freezer that worked
And a toaster oven that worked
And therefore am privileged to enjoy
What I have,

For as long as
I have it!
Lest I should later regret
Such unwise thoughts.

Deluge: Inwardly Disposed

There’s no scarcity
Of feelings surging upwards,
But all this venting is too tedious,
So unskillful and so rough
That I’ve had enough;

Hence, I turn inward,
Driven by curiosity,
Examining the internal world
And finding a devourer with such ferocity,
A wanting mind spinning with great velocity,

Fizzing energy;
Relaxing into chaos,
Letting it gush,
And watching it froth,
Like a foaming bubble bath,

Rich and warm
Like a heating pad,
Complicated and deep,
Like a volcano vent
On an underwater peak;

Steaming through the water,
The feisty effervescence
Dances and fumes,
Forming mighty viscous plumes
That are quickly washed away;

Stormy craving is slowly replaced
With a more tranquil pace,
A quieter flow with barely a ripple,
At last settling down
And resolving to a trickle;

From this I observe
What change can emerge
Without any effort at all,
By simply sitting through the surge.

Delivery: Exploring the Way

The meditation started out with hatred. First I tried noticing the experience and my awareness of the experience, and seeing if I could, from the point of view of this awareness, extend acceptance to the experience. I found that I could and that compassion also arose in relation to the experience. But the hatred persisted and so I explored it further. But then, as I got tired of that I suppose, sloth and torpor arose. At first I looked at that as well, but the hatred continued unabated and as I knew that soon I had to go to work, I thought, ‘this hatred and lassitude really is rather unskillful, is there something else I can do here?’ As I was mulling over the usual options, none of which had ever worked very well, another idea popped up, ‘what about right effort?’

I decided that in this case ‘right effort’ consisted of abandoning an unwholesome state and generating a wholesome state. Unfortunately, my past experience has been that neither metta nor focusing on breathing are very helpful when working with such strong negative emotions or states. But for some reason it occurred to me to close my eyes and direct my attention towards the flutter in the darkness of tiny sparks of light, vague images, colours and random shapes and patterns as they appeared and disappeared. I became quite concentrated on this experience, and soon the aversion dissolved and was replaced by peace and calm. Hence I was able to use concentration on ‘seeing’ to abandon the unwholesome state and generate a more wholesome state, and from there was able to prepare to get on with my day.

Afterwards I speculated on how experience can be what it is, how we can know given everything is changing, and then hit upon the idea that of course we can because we are changing with it too. Just as when you are on a train going somewhere, you forget that you are moving with the train. And so the room seems still because I am moving with it, but from the sun’s point of view the room and I are both moving very fast indeed. As Einstein would observe, this is relativity, and how everything works, such that speaking of constants makes no sense except as a technique or method, one which the ancients mastered long ago, and which scientists only rediscovered and used to their advantage. The Buddha never won a Nobel Prize, perhaps only because his era pre-dated this latest brand of egotism.

Delineation: Caught On Craving

Firmly anchored in chaos,
Dancing and playing,
Boundaries dissolving,
A flurry of decaying,

Expanding and contracting
To the celestial music,
Absorbed in the blackness
Entranced by the contrast,

Reaching outward
With the senses
Scanning the dimensions
Channel surfing the astral extensions

Coming into the breathing,
Going back out
To the universe receding
And taking another reading,

Engaged in the full scope
Of the visual field,
Immersed and engrossed
In the plethora of sensations,

Mind impressions
Of the inner eye
Alternate with the constructions
Of the sensory apparatus.

What mystery is this?
How can I cope?
Where does it all come from?
And where does it go?

I’m suddenly caught
On a craving to know,
Fully stirred up by longing,
At last, too distracted
To just be with.

Delineate: Uneven Terrain

Another day, another year,
Looking for something simple
But nothing is clear,
As mud coats the here,

A sense of foreboding
About what’s to come,
Stirs up the waters
And obscures the sun;

Yet there is progress,
As mindfulness is growing,
Infiltrating concentration
With piercing awareness,

Making it easier
To differentiate from and respond
To what's happening within
The wildly agitated pond;

And so, amidst
The churning choppy fluid,
Some sunlight gets in
Even when I cannot see it,

Sometimes all I can do
Is plunge into it,
Blindly floundering,
Arms and legs flailing,

Blundering and shouting,
With no certain direction,
Gathering steam and venting it
Into the murky liquid,

Losing my way one day
And finding it on another,
Skimming merrily along,
Equally in the dark,
Yet constantly pursuing the original spark.