Gale: Blown Away

Well, I made it through
Various tasks,
In spite of many missteps,
Only to be sidetracked by
Other people's mistakes

No happy medium
Between drowsiness
And nervous wreck,
Mind running amok

Thoughts, sensations,
Wildly plunging
Mishmash
Downpour, splash

Imperfection reigns,
Even when rains
Turn into reins
There are no gains

Falling back?
Or return to normal?
No time to examine now,
Not even tomorrow!

Meanwhile, a scramble
With a howl and a grumble
I bumble and stumble
Trying to keep up

Much of what I planned to do
Is unlikely
Rather than accomplishing a lot
I carry on just slightly 

Quickly!  Quickly!
Run!  Run!
I really have to hurry now
To get anything done

Fuzzy: Not Sure

More imperfection today?
Oh yes, it never stops
And with it a rabbit hops,
Another leap of insight:

If all is imperfect
Then, so is practice
And so is any insight gained
Or any enjoyment obtained

How can one make a mistake
When all is mistaken?
I laughed and observed (imperfectly)
How flawed the laughter;

How imperfect is the sound
How impure the contact with the ear
How defiled the sensation arising therefrom
How deficient the sense organ

And then a non-sensation
Within the world of sensation,
Or is it apart from it?
And is that too imperfect?

Is that merely another dhamma:
Just a filthy conditioned phenomenon
In a stagnant murky pool
In a snake infested swamp?

Of that I am uncertain
But regardless of the cause,
Notwithstanding its nature,
It is a pleasant feature

It is so quiet there,
So free of any disturbance,
So still, so calm
But so indeterminate
I'm not sure what it is

Eyewitness: Life of the Party

What to do,
When cheering
People up
Is your business

And you’re feeling
Incredibly glum?
Buck up,
Old chum!

There’s nothing else
That can be done
But pull oneself up
From the latest slump,

To rise up
With a roar,
Dance back and forth
Across the floor,

Thumb your nose
At your troubles,
Blow away your woes
Just like bubbles,

Let them rise
Into the sky
And burst by and by,
Leaving no trace as they fly,

Take no notice
Of the gloom,
Jump up and down
Until noon

And soon
You’ll forget
About all your upset
And boogie once more.

Extroverted: Succinctly

What a mess!
Why all this work?
Where does it lead?
Nowhere, as far as I can see;

So much frustration and effort
For nothing,
Just to make
A handful of dollars,

Would it not
Be better
To work for nothing
For myself?

And yet,
Would it be
Any less frustrating
Or any more profitable?

Alas, I fear not,
Going out on one’s own
Is such a risk
And requires many resources,

No one is independent
Of circumstances
And they need to be just right
In order to succeed;

And where will this end?
When will this project cease?
With my end, I suppose
Whatever that is. . .

Put succinctly: Everything and everyone
Is bound
By circumstances
And yet,
Everything and everyone is free.

Extremity: Looking On

Probing the edge
Of what I can do,
Listening to the news
And wondering who’s who,

How do we tell,
What are the right causes
And which players
Are speaking the truth?

From so far away
It’s difficult to see,
What is really happening
So remotely,

Looking on from here
It’s so easy to do so
So passively,
Tapping into the audio-visual stream,

Wondering where we are really going
As opposed to the official version,
Wars and conflicts and politics,
It’s enough to make one sick!

And yet, it’s peaceful here
At least for now
And in this locality
But for how long will this be the reality?

Does this make for
A complacent mentality
Leading to
Even more fatalities?

What can we
Really prevent?
Or can we only look backwards
After the events?

Extrapolate: Preparation

Here we are
In April again,
Round and round
And back again,

Nothing much
Is happening here,
Same old chores,
Same old fare,

Preparing for work
And performing
Same old
Necessary duties

But all things considered,
Grateful even
For the monotony,
As have seen much worse;

Pain management strategies
Continuing to work,
Nevertheless, from the effort
I can never shirk,

As what's around the corner
Remains unknown,
Must remain vigilant
For whatever may go down,

Wondering how much longer
I will be around
And what will remain
When I am gone,

Will the old world
Still be here,
Or will it finally
Disappear?

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?”

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?

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.

*Experience: Dispassion

Working with dispassion,
Standing back
And letting go of passion,
Steady and strong,

Reflecting on
What it means,
What consequences or results
Will arise from this approach,

Uncertainty and doubt
About what
It’s all
About;

Noticing a certain hardness,
A kind of coldness even,
Not quite indifference,
Nay, in fact, there’s compassion in it!

Nevertheless, a lack of involvement
In what’s going on is perceptible,
Not minding what’s what,
Simply noting with equanimity

But ‘what?’ I then ask,
‘Is the value of this?
Who does it serve?
What does this accomplish?’
Not sure about that yet.




*And now, I’m off on another meditation course.

I hope to be back in March.

Thanks for reading!

Lee

Expedition: Traversing the Rutted Road

Now, if only
I could ascertain
What I need to do
To arouse and maintain
Stillness and stability,

What would happen then?
What would be the next step?
Or would there be one?
Would that just be the end?

Or would there be
Some other end
That would arise eventually,
Upon the attainment of such-and-such?

Sometimes, I think
I would really rather
Stay home
And write poetry

But if I did that
Would I truly do that?
Or is it this situation
This unhappy circumstance

Itself a product of
Other conditions,
That keeps the fingers
Rolling over the keys?

It’s a recurring theme,
I know,
One which
Will one day be replaced,

But by what, I wonder,
What conditions would erupt next,
If I ever had the opportunity
To follow this or that dream?

Expedite: Reaching

If only I could gain mastery
Over the periodically arising
Stillness and steadiness
That now only comes and goes,

What would that be like?
How could it be done
If it could be done?
Could it ever be done?

Sometimes,
I think that maybe
It’s impossible
To do that;

And sometimes
When I think that,
I feel sad
But at other times relief follows,

There is a relaxation
That comes
From giving up
That feels like a sort of realization,

Indeed, I’ve heard it said
That this is what
Realization
Is really about,

That having failed
To achieve his goal,
In spite of his Herculean efforts,
The Buddha-to-be gave up

And that
Through this action
Came to realize
What he then needed to do.

Expected: Searching For an Exit

Is it time to quit?
To move on or just leave;
Fifteen minutes to go,
Until the end of my shift;

I promised myself
I’d stay on another year,
At least until April,
Before deciding whether to exit,

To depart from these premises
And never look back,
‘Is that going to happen?’
I keep asking.

And then, where to?
Just early retirement, perhaps?
And writing every day?
But more substantially?

Could I do this financially?
Is it sustainable?
These questions have been repeated
So often over these past three years;

The economy is not so good
And there are few other jobs out there
And so, it’s not the best of times
To be thinking of packing up,

Unless I’m planning on
A permanent leave;
But some days I’m so fed up,
I think no one knows how much!

I‘d like to check out
Of this cheap hotel now,
While there’s still
Some sanity left to me.
But, . . . there’s always this, ‘but.’

Expectations: Looking Forward to What?

Looking for new opportunities
But not sure where to go,
Veering away from the fanciful
Toward the practical;

And yet, never ceasing to dream,
Resting in the stream,
Like a fish waiting for prey
To snap up as they float by,

Vigilant and eager
For some clue
About what direction
I should take,

Not wanting to grab on
To any old way,
Enjoying freedom from involvement
Too much to get engaged;

Nevertheless, on the look out
For the next project,
Perhaps out of habit,
Not used to such a prolonged slow-down,

I notice how I rush,
Even though I don’t need to,
Accustomed to busyness,
Not used to sitting so much,

Wanting to get going,
One minute
And appreciating the scenery
The next,

Not knowing what’s next,
Dithering and wobbling
All over
And back again.

Exorbitance: Overabundant Energy

I’m on
A marathon run,
Up to
My next meditation course,

Not sure
What I’m doing,
Or why
Or what it’s for,

I feel so rushed
But for what reason?
What’s the hurry?
Or is it just for fun?

It’s so invigorating!
To be in pursuit
Of a goal
And well on my way,

It’s one of life’s pleasures
To be up against a deadline
And yet,
There’s a stress in there too.

Is there a balance,
An in between?
Or is it best
To simply adjust,

To embrace the race,
While it lasts
And rest
When the opportunity arises,

There are, of course
Different opinions
On which way is preferred;
I won’t take sides, however
But only explore each way instead.

Exhortation: Grandma’s Suggestion

Things have gotten slow,
Humdrum
And ho hum,
Not much happening,

Life seems repetitive,
Although,
It’s not necessarily
Unpleasant;

As my Maternal Grandmother once said,
On one of those occasions
When I complained
Of being bored:

“One day,
You’ll be
Grateful
For boredom.”

Back then,
When she made this observation,
I was unconvinced
And mystified,

But now I think
I understand her position
That there comes a time
When this feels right,

Once one has tried
It all
Or at least
As much as one can do for now

And is feeling exhausted,
Has run out of fresh ideas
Or even those that arise
Seem impossible to pursue,
Then boredom will do.

Exhausting: Venting Worry and Letting it Go

What’s next
For the coming year?
Do I ask,
What is this fear?

What’s coming
That so worries me?
Is it here already,
Is that where I want to be?

Thinking of the future
But what’s in it?
Lost my anchor so long ago
Or did I ever really have it?

Paying attention
To what I’m doing,
I take another sip
Of freshly brewed coffee, savouring it.

It’s so seldom
That I have such a treat,
Perhaps I should
Just focus on that instead,

Let the future
Take care of itself,
As it always has,
And I’ll just coast,

No hurry now,
I’ve got
No better place
To go;

The mind settled
And so,
I forget about tomorrow
And concentrate on now.

Exhausted: Doubting

Taking a break
And thinking it would be great
To be able to quit dreaming
And get to it,

Picking a goal
And following it,
Something worthwhile
And challenging,

Cleaning up
And clearing out,
To make way
For a new direction

But every time I start,
Something else gets in the way,
An unexpected project
Or obstacle,

One after the other
They demand my attention
And then comes
A temporary lull;

But then, what do I do?
I wait and wait,
To see whether or not
Something else will come up.

And then, by the time
I get going again,
Some other glitch arises.
It’s so discouraging at times,

That just when I get
One foot to go in front of the other,
Something trips me up.
It’s so frustrating
That sometimes I just give up!

Exertion: Sideways Motion

Coming into conflict
With competing aspirations:
One to rest,
The other to practice mindfulness;

Wanting to enjoy
What I have,
Rather than striving
To develop my skillfulness;

On the one hand,
Needing solid goals,
On the other,
Tiring of the effort.

Is there a balance,
An in between compromise?
Or do I flip back and forth
And, is so, will I ever land?

Is there no solid ground,
No common ground either?
Can these two
Work together somehow?

Is there a way to
Resolve this contradiction?
Or only an endless play
To and fro to the horizon;

Will I ever know?
Or is there simply no end
To this side to side motion,
No finish to these conditions;

Where else can I look?
Or is this merely a waste of time,
A vibration within a vibration,
A pattern within a pattern.

Exactly: Reflecting on Experience

Dismal weather
But undeterred
I go about
My chores,

Grateful
That everything works,
At least
For today,

Bluish moods come and go,
Thinking of death
And reflecting upon
The nature of things,

Seeing the inconstancy
Of experience
And how it all goes
In the end

But does it really?
Is there no return?
Does eternity exist?
Is immortality a possibility?

Or would I want that?
In this civilization of ours,
The way it is,
Maybe not,

The news reports of the past few days
And predictions of the future
Have not inspired confidence,
In the potential benefits of such an outcome;

I trust I need not enumerate
All that goes on
And which makes me wonder:
Does nature perhaps even smile
At the prospect of our departure?