Emergence: Not Even Now

Not trying to be,
Not trying not to be,
Neither suppression
Nor encouragement
Of sensations, feelings or thoughts;

Neither letting go
Nor holding on;
In the present moment effortlessly
And yet not stopping effort;

Disregarding all admonitions
To attempt mindfulness
But not denying it
Nor putting it down;

Returning to neutral
After many days of exertion,
Long hours of experimentation,
Which brought no cessation,

Not content with ease
Or lack thereof,
Seeking that which is intangible,
Which cannot be found by looking,

Forgetting all directions and advice
For where to look and how,
What to do
And how to do it;

Leaving words out of it,
Letting concepts go their own way;
Not even reading
In between the lines,

Just going about my business
In the usual way,
Following the regular path
Without regularity.

Embrace: Loving Kindness

There’s anger still
That seems to block pain,
Which poses less of a problem
At this point in time,

Emotions flow freely,
Unimpeded and easily,
Watched over and held
With compassionate attitude;

Doesn’t feel so bad,
To be so mad
When an understanding gaze
Overseas this rage,

Turning ever so gently
Towards the typhoon,
Letting it slip through the fingers
Like overflow released from a dam.

Then very slowly
The tide subsides,
Transforming gradually
Into peace and quiet;

The waters lap gently
Against the shore,
And the sun goes down,
Cooling the hot water.

Ease and tranquility
Replace aversive agitation,
Then the stars appear
And the mind is in the clear.

Looking up at the night sky
And melting into the scene;
Released from the tirade gone by,
Equanimity draws nigh.

Embedding: Re-enforcing the Roots

Well, that was useful,
To let go of the past,
To temporarily forget
For as long as this lasts;

These regular eruptions
Are such diverting interruptions,
Then I bring the attention back
And await the next attack.

Mara strikes fast
And out pours another blast,
From the volcano within
Upwells a ferocious din.

But eventually I return
And Mara’s invitations do spurn,
Then peaceful and free,
Sidestep another spree.

Even when I do stumble
And take a tumble,
Eventually I pop right up
And continue on to further work,

Rekindling the spirit
And refreshing the mind
With whatever skillful means
My heart can find.

With compassionate eyes
I turn towards the trouble,
Pouring water on the lava,
To soothe the hot river;

Then more gently it flows
Cools down and less glows,
Gradually hardening into strength
And returning harmlessly to earth.

Embarkation: Renewal

It’s a story of gathering frustration,
Year after stormy aching year
But who would want to hear?
No, and I won’t keep on telling it;

I’ll toss the old tale out
And get back to work,
The real labour
Of pulling pieces back together

Or, perhaps alternatively
Build an entirely new structure,
As happens anyway
In every moment,

Although it’s difficult to discern,
As repetition predominates;
These recurring themes,
Which fume and steam.

Turning it around
Is most likely sound;
I do it again and again,
Each time I pick up the pen.

No longer wishing to dally
With past folly,
Nor to linger over
Yesterday’s topple overs;

Looking ahead
Or even right here instead,
Discarding the duds
And recollecting the proud ofs.

Already I feel better
And embrace the welcome change of inner weather,
Rather than creating more rain
Than has already rumbled down the pane.

Emancipation: Penetrating Vision

Nothing to lose
Except delusions,
Better to clearly see
Even that which is unpleasant.

Otherwise, how else
Can one make wise decisions?
Without an unobscured view,
How can one determine what to do?

But such clarity
Is quite difficult to obtain
And even harder to retain,
It being so fleeting;

Yet even the clouds
Scuttling across the sky
Are part of it
And held by it;

And so,
Even by looking at these,
One can see something
Of what is,

Although they clog the vision
Of the blue beyond,
They are inseparable from it,
As they drift by.

And soon these fluffy blinds
Sail through
And once again
There’s only sky.

And after sunset, a starry night
Brings much delight
But if one forgets,
Even this can be blinding.

Emancipated: A Tea Break

Another rich cup of tea,
A welcome pause
In a busy day
And a pleasure to enjoy;

Astonishing, astounding
And quite delicious,
Sitting here like this
In complete freedom;

Soaking up the view
Of clouds and blue,
Green leaves stirring
And high rises gleaming;

Absorbing the aroma
And multi-layered taste
Of the hot dark liquid
In the sea green mug;

Drenched in peace
On a short surcease,
With no concern
About any other outcome;

All worries drop away
And there’s only
This activity,
Just this.

And then, the last swallow;
I wash the container
And begin to consider
What tasks come next;

Still somewhat sleepy and lethargic
From the humid weather,
Yet relaxed and at ease,
Refreshed by the brief hiatus.

Emanations: Don't Hold That Thought

I thought I had an idea
But then I lost it again,
How quickly the head-noise flickers,
So fast I can’t catch it,

But what’s this need for speed?
So what if I miss it?
Is it that important?
Or can I drop it and move on?

Still there’s so much here,
An infinity, it would appear,
Too much to corral
Or hold here and now;

I watch it come and go
And as I wonder
How it came to be
It’s already flown,

Like clouds blown
Across the endless sky,
Here for a short while
And gone in a moment,

Where do they go?
And from whence to do they arise?
I haven’t a clue
And at last just enjoy the show.

I’ll never get it written down
And so, finally let it go,
These boisterous notions
That flow past and disappear,

Until I barely recall
They were here,
I wave goodbye,
Get up from my seat and hang out
Another load of laundry to dry.

Elusive: Where’s the fire?

Alas it seems
That once again
I’ve run out of steam
And am going down the stream;

Not sure where
The flow goes or why;
Perhaps it’s the heat
Or the lack of sleep;

Whatever the cause,
Here it is
And even the tea
Brings on no revive;

And yet, I’m alive
But with nothing
To which to look forward
Except a rest;

Still, perhaps ho hum is best,
A welcome break between tests,
As it’s one or the other
That’s always in store.

Where does the in between go?
It must be around here somewhere,
Maybe one day I’ll find it
But then what will I find?

Having gotten oh so behind,
Nevertheless need time to unwind,
Take a little breather,
Prior to working harder;

Then off I go,
On another expedition,
To bring home the produce
Or produce.

Elliptical: Go Figure

Quite a week,
Never seen such heat!
And then the A/C went down
And there was grumbling all around;

Then when twas fixed again
Relief set in,
A temporary lull
Until the next complaint occurred;

But I’ll not delve into that
As tis just the usual scat,
Merely phenomena to observe
Before returning to the breath.

Finally an insight emerged
That lack of meaning
Does not precipitate a specific reaction,
Although accompanied by many moods,

These may be pleasant or unpleasant
But they are completely irrelevant
To the presence of a sense of pointlessness
But are purely practical instead.

If prospects appear to be well
Then in joy I dwell
But if I think I’m seeing oncoming bumps,
Then down I go into the dumps,

Upon how I think things are going
My spirits soar or plunge,
Not based on sense of purpose at all
Is my emotive rise or fall;

So much for Viktor Frankl
Who argued meaning is crucial
For happiness to be possible,
This may have mattered to him
But apparently not to this being.

Elements: Flipsides

Despair on one side
Bliss on the other,
The flipside flipped
And so here I am again,

And what a wild trip!
What a fractured fracture,
Molecules flying
Every which way

And their substrate
Fragmenting too,
Always coming back together
And going back out there again,

Like the animation of the defragmenting disk:
Pieces flying all over the screen
And re-forming neatly
Just as if the breaks had never been;

And so
There are no breaks,
Not even in the breaks,
Nor when hitting the brakes!

“Whoa!”
Said the passenger,
“Put on the brakes!
Pray do!”

“Whoops!”
Replied the driver
“There are no brakes
On this crazy cart.”

Am I just going downhill?
Or is that an illusion?
Does any of this really make sense?
Or is that only mind at work?

Elementary: Play On

I could do this forever
And never stop finding
And losing
What I seek,

As maybe it’s only
The undiscoverable seeker
For which I search
And pine;

It can’t be mine
But I still I keep trying
To get at it,
No matter what.

Is this a habit?
Or something else,
Of which,
I know naught?

I only know
That I don’t know,
Or perhaps
I don’t even know that!

And what is this ‘knowing’ business anyway?
I ask the same old questions,
Re-tracing
That ancient well-worn track,

Upon which I see
The footprints
Of all the natural philosophers
That have ever been or will be,

Oh my!
What a thicket of thinking
I have stumbled into again,
Sometimes it’s such fun
And at other times, so frustrating.

Elemental: The Unending Play

And all of this
Finally brings me back
To the ordinary,
The mundane of

What’s on for today?
And so, full circle
Is where it leads,
From A to A,

From a fish in the pond,
To a land dwelling creature,
To a fish in the much larger sea
Of the milky way and beyond;

Peculiar discovery:
To return to where we began,
Over and over again,
Only to find we are un-find-able

And that this “un-find-able,”
And indefinable
Is un-find-able too!
Whew!

And so,
I hang my laundry
On my sun-drenched balcony
And make some tea

Then onwards to my exercise work-out
And looking out
And seeing what I see,
Is this what it is to be free?

To dance among the clouds
While simultaneously
Sewing patches on my clothes;
To dream big dreams
And cook supper, . . . or is it something other?

Elegantly: Insoluble

What if
The “what is this?”
Is part of
The “this?”

And so
Is the above
And so are,
“And so are,”—these words too!

What fun!
What fun!
What a ride!
What a ride!

“Life is but a ride,”
Is but a ride too!
And so on
And so forth;

“And so on
“And so forth,”
Are but arisings
Of the arisings, . . .

And this poem
Is but a poem
But only
If you think it is!

And, “if you think it is”
Is/are but arisings
Of the arisings
Of . . . what?

Of . . . “what!”
Which is?
“Which is!”
And so on
And so forth, and on and on . . . to the horizon.

Elegant: In Remembrance of the Cheese Hunt

When I walked over
To shop at the usual place,
I discovered they’d run out
Of the extra old white cheddar
That I’d hoped to replace;

And so, after speedily
Unloading my cart once home,
I sallied forth
To search for some;

This harrowing quest
In the oppressive heat
Took me far and wide
Through three stores and the spaces in between;

And, when at last
I’d captured my quarry,
I headed home,
Satisfied and unhurried;

But what impressed me
Most of all
Was the extent
Of my recall;

As at bedtime
When I searched my mind,
I found detailed memories
Of all that had transpired;

My mindfulness
Had never left me
And yet no effort
Had I made,

What a surprise,
To find, when not seeking,
Nor even thinking
Of such an enterprise.

Elated: Migraine Talks?

Strange experiences,
Unusual occurrences,
Imaginary dialogues
With physical phenomena:

Awoke with a migraine,
‘Hello,’ I thought at it
And an impression of astonishment
Broke out from that direction,

As if to say,
“What a surprise!
As more usually you admonish,
Complaining intensely,

But today instead,
You say, ‘hello?’
How peculiar
This.”

And so, I considered
Whether it could be
That such phenomena
Could manifest its own personality

Or even
A kind of
Temporary existence,
A transitory self-consciousness;

And also,
Some form of memory,
A recall
Of past incarnations maybe?

But how could that be?
Or could it be
Purely a fantasy,
A fantastical phantasmagoria?
Either way, the discomfort dissolved.

Elapsed: Befuddled

What to write?
Not the foggiest idea,
The well runs dry
With the summer heat;

Many notions
Drift about,
Bumping each other
As they flit;

Jostling and jumping,
Thumping and harrumphing,
Burbling and bleating,
No single thought completing;

Compassion and malice,
Soft and callous,
Murmuring and trumpeting,
Crashing and floating;

Images of action,
Languor and sloth,
Good intentions
That dissolve into inventions;

Imagination roils
And anger boils,
Confusion arises
And relief ensues.

What to do
When there are so many options
And yet so much fatigue,
Seeking a reprieve.

Finally fastening on my working clothes
And preparing to go out;
Released from wondering
What it’s all about.

Elaboration: Answers and Questions

To see
The sunrise in the sunset,
The high noon in the midnight,
The joy within the despair,
The quiet within the noise

This is the goal,
The task,
The delight,
The happiness;

It is the only endeavour
I think worthwhile
And to be able to
Do this all the while,

No matter where,
No matter when,
To see here in there
And there in there;

When I have learned
This lesson,
Maybe, . . .
This will be freedom?

But still,
I can make neither head
Nor tail of things.
And why?

Perhaps because
There is no head
Nor any tail
To make anything of

But only anything itself
To regard,
Including
That which regards.

Egress: Letting Go of Steam

Rage, rage, rage!
And, what to do?
I let it burn through,
Until the insight came,

This rage isn’t mine,
It’s the rage of the world,
The unending storm
In which we all have a share

And, all at once,
I let go
And watched it simmer,
Observed it seethe and quiver,

Then it writhed and hissed,
Flared and thundered,
Roared and flashed,
Pummeled and rasped;

But patiently
I let it rush past,
Sitting silently and still
Until this fury had had its fill;

Muscle spasms in the chest
Followed this great tempest,
Perhaps knotted up in sympathy
From this cataclysm at sea,

As if some monster of the deep,
Up from the bottom did creep
Caught me unawares
And wrapped around my boat

But twas sturdy enough
To stay afloat until the confused beast
Let go and left in haste,
Perhaps seeking some other prey
More digestible than my craft.

Effusive: After-path

After yesterday’s blast
I asked, when out walking afterwards,
‘Where does infinity go
When I get so caught up?’

And the answer was,
‘It’s still here;’
As I looked at the green grass
And felt the warm night breeze,

The bright night lighting
Making it look more like dusk.
Directing my gaze
Like a periscope does,

Scanning everything,
Peering deeply into
Each leaf
And every tree trunk,

Seeking infinity,
Which has to be
Around here somewhere,
Right where I left it,

Even in the seeking,
There it is,
Even when seemingly invisible,
There it is.

And so, going back inside,
Returning to my desk,
Became one with the experience
Of feeling driven to run away

And suddenly, spontaneously
A transformation of this energy
Into sitting up so strongly
And so straight,
Filled with such strength!

Effusion: Spontaneous Speculation

Sometimes I think
I ought to just write
But I wonder
What would that be like?

How would I manage
Without
The normal stimulation
Of conversation and hustle?

Is there a way out?
The question keeps arising
But then I think,
‘How impossible, how improbable!’

And then
I resume my usual routine,
Although I’m halfway
To Mars, it seems.

When will I be free
To pursue
What I feel
Driven to do?

But only driven temporarily
And then
There’s so much
Else to do,

It overcomes me
On these occasions,
When I’m stuck
In this situation;

But mayhaps
It’s getting stronger,
Can I hold on
A little longer,
Or do I have to go now?

Educational: And So On

Vast expanse
Opens out
Before me,
In the every day,

I see
Sunshine
In the rain
And rain in the sunshine,

Silver linings
In the clouds
And clouds
In the silver linings,

The clouds
Inhabiting the sky
And the sky
In the clouds,

And from this
Simple view
I see the view itself
Contains everything too!

And these words also
Contain everything
And are contained
By everything;

None of this
Is new, I know
All of it is trite
And also profound,

I feel like
Such a clown
For overstating the obvious
And so unprofoundly too!
Oh well, so what else is new?

Education: Letting Go

So much more
Letting go to do,
As cleaning out my closets
Was today’s self-appointed chore,

The weather being
So sticky and icky
That it irritates
All my ailments,

Prompting me
To take refuge indoors,
As I have no car or access to,
To shield me from the ill tempered elements.

And so,
I face the difficulty
Of sorting through,
When in no mood or shape to do so.

But, after all,
One must do something eventually,
Or so I feel
And there is so much of it around here!

And so,
The endeavour began
With tee shirts,
Stained and/or holed or too small,

Which ones
Are to be discarded or donated?
Which to be bleached
And which, if any, should be repaired?

Regardless of the sentimental value
Or even if I just really like them,
Nevertheless, out, out, they must go!
Reluctantly but determinedly
I soldier on, through this fearsome process.

Editing: Impermanence

Not sure
What transpired yesterday
But twas short-lived
As all dissolved today.

What spark of enthusiasm
Prompted that happy turn
I could not say
And know not if or when it will recur.

Impermanence,
I guess so!
Or something else
To let go of,

Or even another landmark
Passed by the mysterious ship
Whose name I do not know
But whose company I keep.

And now another change,
As making oatmeal with raisons
It suddenly occurs to me
To add a tablespoon of almonds;

And so, we see
That new turns happen
All the time
But some only noted more than others;

The wrinkles around the eyes
Grow deeper as well
But are barely noted
Until they enlarge sufficiently;

And even then, only by comparison to
Such memories as
The reflection of a smooth-faced fawn,
Which gazed out from a mirror bright,
Mounted upon a hallway closet door so long ago.

Edit: Turn Over

Today feels like
A new start,
As if it’s time
To get ready for something new;

And in order
To do that,
I’ve begun to
Review my plans.

Time to seek
Useful information
About what I need
To go forward from here,

And so, began to consult
My collection of books
And look for
Ways to stimulate the old brain box;

Adventures in brain games
And mathematical self-help tricks,
Along with meditation manuals
And how to handle difficult people;

All of these,
And lest I forget,
Pain management
And mindfulness.

Spring cleaning
Was nothing compared to this!
Only fixing plumbing
And cleaning up messes.

Is this the way to happiness?
I don’t know,
Will have to try
And see what pops up next.

Edify: Prescription

Light reflecting
Off the clipboard,
I notice most
When restless or bored;

It surely is
A mighty bright glare,
Catches the eye
Even from a height,

Mind in flight,
Trying to evade
The tedium
Of uninspiring work;

Or is it that?
Or just the mind?
What is mind anyway?
And what’s it go to do?

So many questions
And so few answers;
Oh well, back to mindfulness,
Ouch! Pain in the hands,

Which started up
Quite suddenly,
Pulling the mind
To see what ails;

Turns out
There’s a pain
From shoulder
To finger tips;

Banishing all boredom,
I investigate this,
Slowly wiggling fingers
And shaking arms
In search of relief from the alarm.

Edification: Tea Tale

There are
So many
Different kinds
Of tea

It’s difficult
To decide
Which one
To brew;

Each one
Seems equally precious
And so delicious,
Makes me feel ambitious

But can’t drink too much
For various health reasons,
Too much zest
Is not always best,

Yet sitting in stillness
With a cup of it
Can be a meditation
In itself;

Watching the steam
Arising from
The hot black
And savouring the aroma;

Pouring in the milk
And seeing it swirl
As the spoon I twirl
And stir;

These actions alone
Bring the present home
To this brief awareness
That comes and goes.

Edibles: Restocking

What’s on?
More grocery shopping,
Although my fatigue
Threatened to derail this expedition,

Still mindful reflection
Brought new joy and satisfaction
And I managed
To perfection;

Even though
I probably
Bought a little
Too much,

My sturdy buggy
Held up
Under the heavy weight
And felt remarkably light.

The hot sun
Slowed us not,
As we zoomed down the street,
My buggy and I;

Intrepid road warriors
Need not apply
But I thought it was fun,
Especially the part about getting home;

These mundane moments
Are really the best,
Their wholesome flavour
Not to be missed,

Forgotten so easily
But treasured while they last,
Dissolving slowly
Into the past.

Edge: Delimiting

Upon reflection on
Yesterday’s foolishness,
At last I remembered
What I said on July 1st,

Recognizing the futility
Of this endless thirst
For meaning,
As if that matters;

Insight bursts forth
And I laugh
At my pettiness,
My thickheaded silliness,

Born of habit, perhaps
But regardless
A practice to be abandoned!
If true happiness is my aim;

Letting go of all
That is inane
That drives me insane
If allowed to persist,

How to break out of this?
It’s the only worthy goal
If there is such a thing
In the light of my reflecting;

The white light of reason
And well-directed good sense,
Of wisdom that cuts through
My own nonsense;

No time can be wasted,
This I must get straight!
No matter what my duties,
All my time is free.

Eddy: Con-current

Boredom revisited,
Can hardly wait
To get away
From this situation;

Voice grating on my ear,
Speaking useless nonsense,
Mindless too
I fear.

Overcome by nausea,
Arising in response
To this pointless din,
This tiresome tedious drone.

What is it?
That so annoys?
I can never determine
But only endure.

How repetitive,
Why do I bother
Getting bothered?
Why don’t I stop?

And then it’s over
And relief arrives,
Temporary or not
I’m well pleased just the same.

Breathing returns to normal
And the stomach settles
But the puzzlement continues,
Even as I write.

Yet drinking in
The welcome respite
From this ridiculousness,
Until the next occurrence
Replaces it.

Ecstatic: What’s Now

Well, here I am again, and I am certainly having a weird time, from worsening arthritis and back pain to sublime and/or serene reflections on the nature of things; and still moving along as best I can.

In fact, it’s just another day of far too much to do around here, to such an extent that I felt too overwhelmed to do anything; and so lay down on the bed to consider my situation. But then, I began to reflect, as follows:

If none of this is permanent, not even the universe, then it seems to me that it doesn’t matter. If, on the other hand, it’s all permanent and it is something “I” passes through, over and over again, then it doesn’t matter. If both, or neither or none of the above, or I simply don’t know, then I don’t think it matters either.

So then, what is this “overwhelmed” about?

It feels like a fear of loss of power or control.

But if there is no power, apart from everything (emptiness), there can be no loss anyway, as individually, “I” never had any; and if I have none, I have nothing to lose. If both are true, or neither or none, or I don’t know, then I don’t see a problem either.

And so, I got up off the bed and began doing things quite spontaneously: folding laundry, cleaning out the closet, paying bills, returning phone calls, sorting things through and discarding old papers, making tea and supper and writing this down.

From this I draw no conclusions whatsoever, however. All I know is that a lot of work got done. I have no idea how that happened or what relationship, if any, it has to the thinking that preceded it.

Change is happening all the time, and yet I don’t know of it. From one day to the next, I just do what’s necessary, or so it appears. Whether “I” goes by, or “it” goes by, or they just pass each other, or there’s no movement at all, I don’t know. There are so many of these, “I don’t know” s, right now, but was anything ever certain? I don’t think so, although I may have thought so and may think so again. What then? Wash the dishes, put them away, and wipe off the countertop, before getting ready to go to work.

Eclipse: Over the Top

It is our contention that
Reality is as mindless
As a headless chicken.
In fact, it is a headless chicken!

Any order is apparent only.
It must be irrational.
And so, we must be irrational too
Because we arise from the irrational.

There’s no exploitation
Of reason, however,
Because there’s nobody here
To exploit it.

Okay, so then, what is suffering?
Perhaps it is just
Getting stuck on a feeling
That something isn’t quite right.

But feelings are subjective and particular
And that’s the point.
They are neither true nor false
But just feelings.

In a sense
They are merely
Reality expressing itself
In a certain way.

There is reality
And then
There is how
You feel about it.

But I think
I’d better leave
All this to philosophers
And instead,
Simply have a cup of tea!