Tag Archives: Ox-Herding

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showing up

by

that which you are

what is it
that comes
and goes,

anchoring
past and
present,

seizing
the heart
in this breath

now this

now this

now this

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We began with the recognition of our yearning for something to complete us and travelled through the twisted inner roads, learning that the journey is not about what we crave.  It is about the relationship we have with ourselves as needing, wanting, desiring creatures.  Kabir (Wanting-Creature*) is a gentle and knowing guide in these matters:

I said to the wanting-creature inside me:
what is this river you want to cross?

There are no travelers on the river-road, and no road.
Do you see anyone moving about on that bank, or
resting?

I began this blog as a way of coming to terms with several losses: friendships, communities, trust that arms which could have caught me would.  In my pain, I created a suffering-belief that if I could just get across this river, I would heal and move on.  This space became the Ox that would carry me across.  Over the months of agonizing about my writing, my brush art, my practice, it evolved into a space where I met with wise and beautiful beings who sat with me as we tried to figure out the paradox of needing to cross this river that really isn’t there.  And that became the Ox.

There is no river at all, and no boat, and no boatman.
There is no towrope either, and no one to pull it.
There is no ground, no sky, no time no bank, no ford!
And there is no body, and no mind!

The Ox is easier to tame when it is something tangible.  My body understands the hours of rigorous work required to master a physical activity.  Even my mind understands what it takes to cultivate a strong knowledge base (it understands but has yet to build one that isn’t wonky in some way or the other).  But this well of rising and falling sensations that so quickly take on shape and meaning is a battle with mists and spirits.  My commitment to writing everyday, and thinking about writing when I wasn’t, helped.  Like laying down straw on muddy paths, it eased the transition from one moment to the next.  And yet, and yet, the belief was strong that there was a home I would reach where this suffering would end.

Do you believe there is some place that will make the
soul less thirsty?
In that great absence you will find nothing.

Opening to the inspirations of other writers in this virtual universe (you all know who you are!), I found “some place” would briefly be “here” and the “great absence” could be comforting.  Never for long but long enough to face my delusions, to let go of the concept that healing happened on the other side of this non-river.

Be strong then, and enter into your own body;
there you have a solid place for your feet.

Think about it carefully!
Don’t go off somewhere else!

I have no illusions of having transcended the causes and conditions of pain.  There are no illusions of forgiveness or a transformation in my deep desire for this to be different.  I do go off “somewhere else.”  And I come back, here.  Regardless of the ephemeral nature of the Ox or the convoluted turns of the journey, I realize that I cannot be other than where I am.  And in this solid place beneath my feet, my practice is nothing more than to show up for all that I am.

Kabir says this: just throw away all thoughts of
imaginary things,
and stand firm in that which you are.

Here.  As I am.  For now…

… in what is actually the Second-to-Last frame of our Ox-Herding journey.

Thank you for travelling with me and for all your comments, laughter, and love.

Most of all,

Thank you for practicing,

Genju

*The Kabir Book: Forty Four of the Ecstatic Poems of Kabir
Translation by Robert Bly.
Beacon Press, Boston, 1993.


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first love

by

the stream of all ancestors

carrying the wisdom
of all my teachers

in empty hands,
shaped, hollowed out,

by the stream of
all ancestors

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thich Nhat Hanh has written almost a hundred books; I’ve lost count.  Each one is a jewel but none as challenging and raw as Cultivating the Mind of Love.  In it, he speaks candidly of his first love, a nun met when he was teaching at a temple in the Highlands of Vietnam.

I knew that I loved her.

How simple.  How incredible.  I knew that I loved her.  Thay takes this story of his “first love” and weaves it into a journey to find our “original face.”    Just as the face we are born with may not have been our original face, our first love may not really be our “first love.”  So he “goes upstream” to show the many streams that feed into who we are in this moment.  For Thich Nhat Hanh, the source of who he is in the present moment arose in his childhood experiences of seeing a drawing of the Buddha, searching for the hermit in the woods, drinking from a clear mountain stream, his brother’s ordination as a monk, and his mother’s dedication to his well being.  When he met the young nun who ignited strong feelings of love, he writes that he could see the line of ancestors that flowed into the stream of his life and hers.

Please look into the river of your own life, and see the many streams that have entered it, that nourish and support you.  If you practice the Diamond Sutra and see the self beyond the self, the person beyond the person, the living being beyond the living being, the life span beyond the life span, you will see that you are me, and you are also her.  Look back at your own first love and you will recognize that your first love has no beginning and no end.  It is always in transformation. (p. 60)

He goes on to say,

Whether water is overflowing or evaporating depends on the season.Whether it is round or square, depends on the container.  Flowing in spring, solid in winter, its immensity cannot be measured, its source cannot be found.  In an emerald creek water hides a dragon king.  In a cold pond it contains the bright full moon.  On a bodhisattva’s willow branch, it sprays the nectar of compassion.  One drop of water is enough to purify and transform the world in ten directions.  Can you grasp water through form?  Can you trace it to its source?  Do you know where it will end?  It is the same with your first love.  Your first love has no beginning and will have no end.  It is still alive in the stream of your being.  Don’t believe it was only in the past.  Look deeply into the nature of your first love, and you will see the Buddha. (pp. 75-76)

I struggle with this, trying honestly to see all the loves and not the losses.  Going to the source of the mind of love, bodhicitta, means letting go of the loss and opening to each love as a branch of the stream that originates deep in the past and flows forever into the future.  If I value that powerful, steady outpouring of love in the river of my life, I have to value myself as a steam in the lives of those I touch.

For now, I invite you to look far enough into the future, so far that you cannot help but see yourself, become yourself, the source of a stream of love and life.

Thank you for practicing,

Genju