Author Archives: Genju

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borrowed truths

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I am caught in a web of intrigue.

spiderThere are the stories I tell myself about me.  There are stories I tell myself about others.   There are stories I tell myself about me reflected in others and they in me.  These stories sometimes are woven intricately, threads so tightly intertwined as to be inseparable.  Sometimes the threads are loose and tenuously linked, snagging on some external point or edge that unravels it all.

All stories are a refuge from the truth of who I am.

Thich Nhat Hanh writes beautifully about the joy we feel when we watch a friend emerge from “the chaos caused by the annihilation of his last refuge.” (from Fragrant Palm Leaves: Journals 1962-1966 by Thich Nhat Hanh). This is to be my work: to burn down the huts of my delusions, the books of my illusions.

I knew early that finding truth is not the same as finding happiness.
You aspire to see the truth,but once you have seen it, you cannot avoid suffering.
Otherwise you have seen nothing at all.  You are still hostage to arbitrary conventions set up by others.

It should come as no surprise that I live my life based on the measure of others.  I don’t mean the negotiated truths we all use to create relationship.  Nor the conventions that ease the flow of a day.  I mean the objects that signify what should ring the bells of praise and blame.

Truth cannot be borrowed.  It can only be experienced directly.
The fruit of exploration, the suffering, and the direct encounter between one’s own spirit and reality –
the reality of the present moment and the reality of ten thousand lifetimes.
For each person, it is different.  And it is different today than it was yesterday.

Thank you for practising,

Genju

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sight & sound

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Basho is best known for the frog pond haiku.

Old pond —
a frog jumps in,
the sound of water
(transl. by Stephen Addiss)

Sometimes that last line is not so obvious; it may just state: Plop!

Over the centuries, there have been a number of variations from the seriously imitative to the respectfully extended to the sweetly sublime.  I particularly like Stephen’s quirky eco-zen contribution:

Old pond paved over
into a parking lot —
one frog still singing

Whatever the version, this haiku tantalizes me.  I know there’s likely nothing to “get” yet I try anytime I’m around ponds, frogs, or combination of both to be one with the sound of that Plop!  Of course, it’s never happened – well, I think it did once… but then I talked about it and … no Plop!… just poof!  It ends up being one of those damnable koans or verse #1 of the Tao Te Ching.  The frog’s plop that can be spoken is not a Plop!

In the years of sitting with frogs, like frogs, for frogs, I realize I have a number of photographs of my slippery friends (who are actually toads).  Nevertheless, like Issa and his frog, we may have come to terms with how to deal with Basho (from The Essential Haiku: Versions of Basho, Buson & Issa, edited by Robert Hass).


frogpond

A huge frog and I,
staring at each other,
neither of us moves.

Issa

Thank you for practising,

Genju