Extracting: Drinking the Moment

Returning to the present:
Restlessness,
Sloth and torpor,
Concentration,

Feeling the energy,
Hearing, seeing,
Observing the happenings,
Being with the breathing,

Thoughts come and go,
Passing like clouds
Through an endless sky
And disappearing over the horizon,

Sensations of heat and cold,
Grow and change
And merge
Into one another,

Close examination of pain
Reveals vibration
And a rainbow of colours
In the mind’s eye,

Fascinated by the show,
And so,
Forgetting about
The discomfort,

Sitting, as on a throne,
At the top
Of the world,
Looking outwards,

Spaciousness,
Melting into
The clear blue
Of the afternoon sky.

Extract: Pulling Through

Up so late,
Checking in
With the news
But finally relaxed
For a very short snooze,

Before rousing myself
And getting up running,
Flying through the day
Not feeling much of anything,

Focused on doing
And getting ready for work,
Wondering how I’ll make it
Through this mountain of chores,

One piles on another
And nothing seems to go right,
Everything breaking down
And fixing it no delight,

I’m full of fight
About issues
About which I’ve been hearing
That make me feel like sparring

But strategically speaking,
I’m still thinking
Of where to go
From here,

There’s a great deal of fear
But that’s common I hear,
And nothing about which
To be surprised,

As long as
We’re alive
We must know fear,
It’s just part of the here.

Extra: Too Much

Once again
I’m so far behind,
So much is happening
There’s not time to unwind,

Up all night,
Checking in with the news
And getting a real case
Of too much news blues

Now, rushing around
Trying to do
Way too much
And not liking it much,

Such much!
And so much bewilderment
And way to many muches,
To which I cannot keep up,

But one thing that’s good
Is that I’ve forgotten about pain,
Although I’ll soon remember
And be complaining again,

Meanwhile,
Rush, rush
Rush rush,
Rush, rush,

Excuse me,
As I’ve got to run,
No time for doddling,
No time for sitting,

Have to get up
And stop diddling now,
Got to get going
And get out from under
This pile of work somehow.

Extent: Reaching for Relief

Ah, at last I saw
The source of this latest pain,
As the lightening flashed
And then came the rain!

My aches and pains
Predict the weather
And so I should have guessed
This storm was coming together,

In the meantime,
I’ve had to resort
To pills I rarely use,
A muscle relaxant is what I chose,

To relax my shoulders
And my legs
And hopefully
This will bring relief

But while I waited,
I listened to the news,
From around the world
On the BBC World Service,

It’s not exactly
Meditation, I know
But it engaged my mind
On something else,

Forgetting about
My problems and woes,
By focusing on what else
Is happening in the world

And after a while,
The medication began to work
And I could move and stretch
With much less discomfort
And then, at last, go off to bed.

Extensively: Growl!

All worn out
By a blizzard of activity
And a gale of bad tidings,
Both at home and abroad

And to top it all
Woke up too early,
With such pain in my shoulders
I could barely move

But up I got
And moved around,
Moved around,
Achy and cranky,

Stumbling to the kitchen
For a cup of coffee,
Infuriated by the news
And ready for a fight,

With a, “how dare they?”
And a flurry of curses,
For the untimely demise
Of the greedy and the miserly;

The folks in these parts
That run the government,
Who seek to short-change the public,
While adorning themselves in gold nuggets!

But, what did I expect?
I saw this coming
But sometimes I wish
I wasn’t so accurate!

Prognosticating bad news
In a way that is so exact,
So matter-of-fact,
Making Nostradamus
Seem like a mere crackpot.

Extensive: Doubt

What to say,
What to say?
I’m in such a rush today
And on the way out the door,

I have to work,
Which is something of a perk
When so many others
Have to keep looking,

I’m grateful for that
And it gets me out
From under the bed,
When I’m feeling bad or just fed up,

I’ve been listening
To the news
And looking for clues
About what’s coming up,

Not sure what’s happening,
Whether fair weather
Or foul
Is about to arise now,

Everybody’s a’jitter
Awaiting the next twitter
About what’s going on
And where we are all going;

Trying to see
Our destiny,
While carrying on
With what we need do;

Makes a big headache
Which no painkiller can reach,
Standing o’er the breach
And holding one’s breath,
Thinking, “what’s next? What’s next?”

Extend: Backing Up

Little fish, little fish
Pretending to swim
Like this,
Underneath
My paternal Grandmother’s chair,

Little fish, little fish,
Sometimes I wish
I could go back to
That imaginary aquarium,

For those were happy times:
She looking out for me
And me loving her for it.

She watching me at play
And enjoying it too,
Playing along with my games
And loving it and little me.

But ‘tis so long ago,
I barely recognize
That little one,
Where did that all go?

Is that little one still there,
Underneath that chair,
Peering out from underneath
At Grandma’s loving smile?

Is Grandma still there,
Looking down from the chair
At the little child
Looking up lovingly,

Playing eternally,
Joyfully participating
In infinity’s unfolding,
Marveling at everything,
Never minding anything?

Extemporize: Ouchie!

Pain, pain, pain
That old recurring theme again,
From a too warm spring
That nature did fling
At my aging body and mind,

Oh, achy me,
Sleeping badly,
Waking up frequently
And groaning with discomfort,

How long will this last?
Will it ever end?
Same old questions,
Feel like a slave to this afflicted carcass,

Dragging it around,
Like a ton of bricks,
Should have been a bricklayer
Then maybe I’d know how to get aligned,

But for now,
Try to put some positive spin
On this no-win,
Until I can get home, wherever that is,

Taking extra medication
Got me to sleep in,
What a relief that was,
Although only temporary,

Fatigue still dogs me,
All day long,
Exhausting effort,
To keep everything going,

Preparing green tea
With fresh ginger sliced,
Hoping the infusion
Will this discomfort reduce.

Extemporaneous: Delightful

Washing the milk pitcher
And smiling a lot,
Swirling the water
As it bubbles up,

Playing with it
And having fun,
Breezing through
This regular chore as never before,

Never before
And never again,
Making milk from the powder
And stirring it with aplomb

But then after I’d completed
Preparing my supper,
Felt too tired and hungry
To do my work out first, as I normally do

And then thinking,
How does this dovetail
With my lightened mood?
‘But, does it have to I asked?

What makes me think
It has to make sense?
What makes me think
That anything does?

Why does everything
Have to connect?
Does life have to make sense?
Does everything have to add up?

And what if it doesn’t?
Should I be upset?—Gracious, no!
For if so, that would only create more suffering.’
But after all that, I exercised anyway!
And what of the subsequent supper, eaten with hunger?—Completely delicious!

Extant: Happiness

As I began to chop
A sweet potato,
I suddenly had an experience
Most indescribable,

That I was just chopping
This sweet potato
And that nothing else
Was going on,

That there was no Buddha,
No enlightenment
And no thought of such,
Nor any knowledge of such,

Nay, there was only
Chopping a sweet potato,
Just as ordinary
As it is,

With nothing on top,
Just a la carte,
Just as it is,
As it had always been,
Before I’d ever heard of this Dharma stuff

And yet,
It was quite different,
In a way
But in no way
That I could discern

‘But whatever it was,’
I thought to myself,
As I moved on to my next task,
‘If only it could always be this way,
Whatever that way is,
That would be it, just as it is,
Absolutely completely, just as it is.’
But as soon as I saw this, I lost it again.

Exquisitely: Flip-Flop

Now and then,
I find it funny,
How I flip
Back and forth
Between in depth musings
And making tea

And that I do it
So easily,
Like day and night
It sometimes seems,

Like two different people
Sharing the same dreams
And it may be so,
One day I may find out

That there’s more than one,
A multitude of interlinked minds perhaps,
Doing everything
That needs to be done
To keep reality going,

Sometimes having fun
And at other times
As miserable as they come,
For as long at it takes,

But for now
It’s back to making tea,
Cooking supper
Exercising, showering
And doing laundry,

Until another fit
Of thinking bursts forth,
Like the birds at dawn,
Getting on,
With their mysterious tasks.

Exquisite: Hilarity

I said to myself,
Why be so rigid?
Why not say,
‘what if,’ once in a while, instead?

‘But that’s not very scholarly,’
I opined,
Which is what I thought I was
Or wanted to be.

But I’m not thinking like a scholar
At the moment,
So, let’s see where that leads,
Can I do as I please and think for myself?

But then,
Wait just a moment,
Do I think for myself?

‘NO! I think not,’
Came the startling conclusion,
Nobody does.
How funny!

And if I ask
Who the thinker is,
I find none
And at this,
I laugh even harder.

‘What a crazy world,’
Hardly an original observation
But possibly just as true
As ever;

Sometimes I think I’ll never
Get to the bottom of this,
Perhaps, because,
What if, there isn’t one?
Hilarious!

Expressly: Ignorance

What if,
Everything we think we know
Is really ignorance:
Everything we see,
Hear, taste, touch, smell,
Think, experience,
It’s all ignorance and delusion.

There are so many ignorances:
The ignorance of a young child,
That we mistakenly call innocence,
The ignorance of a teenager
That we mistakenly refer to as rebellion,

The ignorance of young adults
That we mistakenly call maturation,
The ignorance of middle age
And of old age
That we sometimes confuse with wisdom,

Even though we know that
There’s no fool like an old fool
And no fool as foolish as we ourselves.

And where’s the Buddha in this?
What did he know?
I would guess just this:
That all of us, even he
Lived in delusion,

The difference being that he knew this,
Although he was assuredly not alone
And yet, just as ignorant and deluded
As everybody else is,

And, upon seeing this,
Was moved
To compassion,
Towards all our folly.

Expressively: Miscellaneous Fragments

Felt like
Doing nothing,
Chose to look towards,
‘I don’t want to do anything,’

Saw forever in it
And then quite rapidly,
Sprang up
And began to do,

How curious!

***

What if,
It does not matter
Whether
There ever was
A Buddha or a Buddhism,
Or whether there is or is not.

What if it’s irrelevant
And that
Whatever I say,
That’s irrelevant too?

Is it all
Just words,
All delusion?

If so,
How precarious!
What a shaky ladder
Upon which to stand!

And yet, we are still standing!
How so?
I do not even know!
Do you?

Expressive: Minor Explosion

Oh my,
What a mood!
I’d like to fly
Right out of here!

But instead,
I’ve got to shop!
But irritation exploded
When I found the Farmer’s Market closed

And why?
St Patrick’s day festivities
Had taken over
The place!

‘Blast this useless festival,’
I fumed silently,
Stomping down the street
In a daze,

‘Now, I’ll have to go elsewhere
And may have to go without,
Or visit multiple stores
Or lug a very heavy load.’

But forward I pushed on
And got the job done,
Only to get home and remember,
‘Oh drat, my blog!’

And so, here I am,
Rapidly relating this stormy episode
But all went well
In the end

And no one suffered
From this temper tempest;
I rolled through the aisles amiably,
And stood in line in proper order.

Expression: Striving

Oh!
How difficult it is
To see
That even
The inability to see is, ‘it,’

That all our striving
Is ‘it,’
That even at rest
Or amidst the fray,

Working every day
Or sleeping,
Walking, running
Or creeping,

Eating, breathing,
Washing and cleaning,
Sitting
And daydreaming,

All these
And more
Are just exactly
What we’re looking for,

Making tea
And drinking it,
Struggling with pain
And relaxation,

Racing against the clock
And putting our feet up,
Running for a train
And rushing home again,

It’s all laid out in plain view
But still we strain
To make some gains,
On the road to where we’ve always been.

Express: All Right

The only thing
That prevents us
From attaining realization
Is the effort to attain it

And yet, this effort too
Is nothing other than
That which we seek
And keep seeking,

The seeking is ‘it’ as well
And so,
Is perfectly acceptable,
As are the sacrifices we make.

Such sacrifices are ‘it’ too
And completely unnecessary
But totally right,
Even though unnecessary

And those who seek
Are just as right
As those
Who don’t.

The ones seeking relief
And the ones who don’t
Living together
In the same world,

Each known only
In terms of the other,
Each interpenetrating
And inseparable,

For without
One another,
How could they
Know themselves?

Expounding: Carrying on with the Inquiry

The great challenge continues,
The quest never ending;
To get to the end
Makes no sense,
For how could that be?

What end could there be?
An end to this individual life,
Probably
But what is that?

Right now, I could not say,
Am uncertain but unconcerned,
The light of existence burns,
Inside and outside,

The fire goes out
And the ashes cool,
Until no heat’s left over,
Neither a flicker nor a sputter,

Not even a stick stirred
Through the mucky mess remaining
Reveals any sparks
Or heat retaining;

And yet, does not the potential remain,
For another flame,
To arise from the dark?
Is there a brand new blaze in waiting?

And if so, what would it be?
Could it be me?
Or something completely different?
Will I be here to see?

Or if not, who else?
And when?
Twill it be somebody close at hand
Or in a completely different land?

Expound: Unbounded

The hardest insight
To come by,
The pinnacle of all,
Or so I humbly suggest,

Is that everything
Is Nirvana
And so,
Even suffering is Nirvana,

Not suffering is Nirvana,
All the conditioned phenomena
That are classified
As being suffering,

These too are Nirvana,
The very aches and pains,
Frustrations and irritations
That we so dislike,

All of these too
Are nothing but
Nirvana itself
But it’s so difficult to fathom,

Particularly,
When one is in it,
Up to the chin
In dire circumstances,

This is the great and tricky feat,
To be overwhelmed,
All sanity overturned,
Every moment excruciatingly upended,

To yearn for relief
And yet to see even in this yearning,
The truth of release,
The ultimate understanding,
That this too is ‘it!’

Expository: Swimming

The answer,
The simple answer
To
Life, the universe and everything,

To me
It would have to be
Something that
Was not contingent upon anything,

It would need to be
Something that
Never changed,
Nor withered;

What could that be?
I don’t have to tell you
Because you already know it
And all you have to do is

Ask the question,
What is it
That is not contingent upon anything
And that remains unchanged?

You could say it’s change,
Or you could say the deathless
Or you could say reality,
It matters not what you call it,

What matters is
That you see it,
Clearly discern it
And this is the difficulty.

It’s so simple,
So obvious,
So ubiquitous,
The very water in which we swim
And that we are (whatever that is!)

Exposition: Purposeful Struggle

Storms
And reports
Of storms
But now snow accumulates
On the ground

And the aching
In my body
From this
Turbulent climate

Does not inspire
Nor enliven
The wandering,
Wondering mind

And yet,
I get on with it!
Performing
My daily tasks,

Occasionally gazing out
At the steel grey clouds
And the patches
Of sunlight in between,

The scanty rays
Light lantern-like,
Here and there
The tawny grass and rough pavement;

Then finally
Fatigue slows me,
Confusion sets in,
Not sure what’s next,

So many tasks
From which to choose
But instead I pause
To sit.

Explosion: Passionate Interest

My chest
Is aflame
With pain
And so, I think,

Existence is suffering,
Yes, it really is
And that’s no lie,
No make believe line

And yet,
The sky is still beautiful,
The white/blue puffy clouds
And the gaps in between,

Ah!
One could
Disappear
Into a sky like that!

One could
Disappear
And never
Come back!

How wondrous
Life is,
How gorgeous,
How fantastic!

Although it’s often painful,
So disappointing
And uninspiring,
It’s phenomena like these,

Along with the accompanying treasures,
That keeps us going
Even in
The teeth of atrocious inner
And/or outer weather.

Explode: Paradoxical

Sometimes I feel
That life
Is like
A broken mirror,

Best viewed
From
Nowhere
In it;

All these
Tiny fragments,
Impossible
To reconcile,

Unless
One could
Stand outside
But how could that be done?

For, what’s outside?
And
How could we
Possibly see it?

It’s unknown
While we’re in it
And we know nothing
When we’re out of it,

So what a silly aim
To try to see,
When to do such
Seems a contradiction,

And yet,
There are those
Who claim
That they can see;
Watch out!

Explication: Process

One minute
Meditations,
That’s all
I seem to be doing,

Each one
Of which,
Leads to
Another bout of reflection

And then,
I write about it,
In between
Sips of hot black tea,

Meting out words
Like lemon drops,
Popping them
Into my mouth,

Tasting the
Tangy sweetness,
Chewing
And swallowing;

And then,
Reaching
For
Another one;

And starting
All over,
Until I’ve et
The whole packet;

And then,
Reaching
For
Another package
From the cupboard.

Explicate: Exploring, “I”

From
A certain standpoint,
“I,” is nothing at all,
A ghost, a phantom

And yet,
When one
Turns towards
This, “I,”

Examining it closely,
Staring
Right into
It’s face,

At first,
There is
One-pointed-ness
But then,

Something
Very interesting transpires,
An opening outward
Towards infinity;

And so it is that
Through
A careful investigation
Of this, “I,”

One can see
Something like forever,
Or at least
From

A certain
Point
Of
View.

Explanatory: Ideas

From
A certain
Point of view,
Ideas are just ideas

But also
They are
The very stuff
Of life;

They are
Like the blooming
Of many coloured
Flowers in the desert,

Lasting for only
A very short time;
Nevertheless,
They leave their mark,

In the form of
Seeds and fruit,
Which fall to the ground
Or are gratefully consumed;

The many creatures
Of the parched sands
Relying upon them
For sustenance

And, in turn,
Offering fertilizer
To these same plants,
Which then reproduce again.

And so,
The flow of ideas is renewed,
Keeps returning, churning,
Burning, like the desert sands.

Experiments: Drifting

So many times
I get lost in speculation,
Engrossed and involved,
Bewildered and frustrated

And then finally
I grow tired of it
And the mind falls silent
For an interval

Or I forget
All about it
And move on
To some chore I need to do

But before long
I’m off again
In some delicious, delightful
Or grueling exploration,

Some flight of fancy
Or existential investigation,
A little lightheartedness
Or a load of weighty consideration,

Like a cloud
Drifting across the sky,
Reshaping itself
To fit the terrain,

Dropping rain
As it streams over mountains,
Shrinking as it passes
Across the shimmering desert,

Expanding rapidly
When it drinks in evaporating moisture,
As it’s blown over
Sparkling waters.

Experientially: In Here

The nature of
My delusion is
That
There is

Something
Out there
That’s not
In here,

This Fibromyalgia pain
And the countless woes
That go with it,
Make me want to flee!

To get out of here;
But there’s really
No place else
To go;

And how to
Get this straight
Seems to be
My endless endeavour,

How to see that
Out there
Is no different
From in here

And that indeed,
Such expressions as
“Out there” and “in here,”
Are meaningless,

Such is the nature of
The difficult task
In which
I am daily engaged.

Experiential: Neither and Both

And so,
What of suffering?
From here it seems
Unavoidable,

For without it,
There would be
Nothing at all,
And what good would that be?

Plenty of good perhaps,
If one is sick to death
Of existence
And wants to end it all together,

Which is very reasonable
Under some conditions
And perhaps the inevitable outcome
Of having lived too long and seen too much

But in the meantime,
We partake of both,
To the extent
That our conditions allow or mandate;

And it is to be remembered
That we too
Are the conditions
Under which mandate or allowance we exist,

For however long
That existence persists
And perhaps
For however long

Whatever comes after,
Persists or desists,
Whatever
The case may be.

Experiences: Pragmatics

When I concluded
That all I need do
Is attend to
What needs doing,
At first, I thought,
‘How mundane,
How simple!’

But quickly changed to
‘This is not so,’
For what it takes
To sustain this fragile existence
Is often quite challenging and interesting,
Although at times
It can also be
Unbelievably onerous and staggeringly dull!

But when I
Adopt this
Straightforward philosophy,
I feel such a sense of relief,

I can just
Get down to business,
Take a practical approach
Over which I lose no sleep,

And if I stick to it
It gives me
The kind of focus
I so often lack,

Which produces
A deep level of concentration,
As I only need
To look at what
Actually needs doing.
It makes choices so much easier,
As pragmatics are all I need to consider.

Experienced: Tempered

And so,
It seems to me
That life consists
In this:

To enjoy
Or be miserable
(As the case
May be)

Until
The end,
Whatever
That is

Or until
one
Has
To go to

Wherever
One
Has
To

Go,
To do
Or
Not to do;

And,
All the rest
Is simply
Whatever

One needs
To do
To sustain
This fragile existence.
And from this, I feel, . . . such relief!