Saturday, May 29, 2010
an error in alignment
...and the moon, the full buddhapoornima moon, whose pull i seem to be responding to.
mistakes and coincidences
there are no such things.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
the tragic tale of miss cera vitreous
hollow eyes and spidery limbs, miss cera vitreous was a shadow of her former self
one chance encounter
and then they had taken him away
seventeen long steps away in the living room he now stood,
wondering what had become of her, where she had gone.
his once youthful face now fixed in the scarred grimace of old age,
barely understanding why every time he heard the sound of flowing water, he'd light up a little bit,
and sigh, "cera..."
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
knock knock
Monday, May 24, 2010
doodly-doo
last month, i attended a course on buddhism at the tushita meditation center, up in the pretty mountains of dharamkot, above dharamsala. our instructor was robina courtin (technically, "venerable" robina courtin), a kickass australian punk-turned-politco-turned-feminist-turned-kung fu practitioner-turned-nun.
robina speaks a lot, and fast, and i'm a bit of a compulsive note taker. so i wrote and wrote and wrote. and sometimes made doodles in the margins of the people, things, or concepts around. here are some of them.
everywhere you looked were strings of prayer flags, with the blue one [always the first flag] torn or missing. tushita was crawling with monkeys and they seemed to have a particular attachment or aversion to the blue ones. some karma they're gathering!
in buddhism, as in hinduism, the higher something is kept, the more respect it is being accorded. this is how we were told to keep all the books on buddhism we'd buy. some people became quite militant about these rules--someone once almost yelled at me for keeping a book by the dalai lama face down on a table!
the meditation hall had a huge statue of tushita's patron buddha [in a way], the tsongkhapa. this is my bad portrait of his shiny golden face in a kicky yellow cap.
he had very kind, slightly worried, eyes.
and his room was decorated with these long technicolor silk pieces, which looked like many ties sewn together. the colors, robina explained, are to awaken the senses, encourage mindfulness. i loved the concept of mindfulness. it was the simplest but most meaningful takeaway for me.
i also learned to think of bugs and rodents and all general creepy things as "sentient beings" with minds, whose past negative karma had given them a birth in the lower realm. i realized as a human i can introduce kindness into their lives [by, yknow, not stamping them], thereby helping to improve their karma. my little hut in the forest was home to many such sentient beings. i was terrified the first night i was there, but after i humbly explained to them i was not going to harm them and i'd love it if they left me alone too, i relaxed and fell asleep. for the next ten days, we co-existed most peacefully.
some of the concepts were much tougher to understand. emptiness, for instance, sounds simple when you think of it in terms of physical objects but much tougher when applied to ourselves. here it is in the context of a chair: a chair is a name given to a collection of many different things [legs, seat, back]. if you take away these components, you are not left with something separate called a chair. so also people are collections of the causes and conditions that brought them to being. take those causes away and there is no separate "me" or "i" left behind.
yeah, it really twisted my mind into knots. next week, i'm going back to tushita for a 9-day course during which we will only discuss emptiness! whooo.
the meditation practices were also really hard for me at first. i eventually slipped into the groove after all the kicking and screaming, but it still always kind of felt like this doodle. the object was to have one part of your mind quietly observing all the other parts of your mind, all your other thoughts. i'd be happily sitting on my cushion thinking i was doing a damn good job of it [and being aware of the fact that i was thinking this] when it would suddenly hit me that there was in fact a giant mountain of thoughts and feelings and things standing behind my observing mind! then i'd get into this power struggle with my mind to drag the mountain in front of the observer. that's around the time the kicking and screaming would start.
i also loved observing the people in the course with me. many became good friends and alliances through the sometimes difficult process. most i just observed from a distance. our course was to be conducted in total silence so it was fascinating how much body language said about them. this is will [or the back of his head and the top of his back tattoo], a large american who was my neighbor, group member, ashram-buddy.
marie was danish. she wore a pretty head scarf and asked interesting questions in a really happy sounding voice.
brian from ireland sitting on a yellow cushion in a geometric shirt and pocket flaps a-flapping.
neil was an irish farmer with an incomprehensible accent and a scholarly manner.
[the girly with the balloon wasn't at the course, she just played in my head.]
the lastest and loveliest thing to show about tushita is this:
on our last day, i walked into the meditation hall and found this scrap of paper sitting on my low orange table. i'm not sure if it was left there for me or flew to me from someone else's table, but i guess it was meant for me in a way. i may forget the teachings but i'm never going to forget the moment in which i saw this and laughed right out loud to myself. i've kept it in my wallet and it makes me happyhappy every time.
robina speaks a lot, and fast, and i'm a bit of a compulsive note taker. so i wrote and wrote and wrote. and sometimes made doodles in the margins of the people, things, or concepts around. here are some of them.
everywhere you looked were strings of prayer flags, with the blue one [always the first flag] torn or missing. tushita was crawling with monkeys and they seemed to have a particular attachment or aversion to the blue ones. some karma they're gathering!
in buddhism, as in hinduism, the higher something is kept, the more respect it is being accorded. this is how we were told to keep all the books on buddhism we'd buy. some people became quite militant about these rules--someone once almost yelled at me for keeping a book by the dalai lama face down on a table!
the meditation hall had a huge statue of tushita's patron buddha [in a way], the tsongkhapa. this is my bad portrait of his shiny golden face in a kicky yellow cap.
he had very kind, slightly worried, eyes.
and his room was decorated with these long technicolor silk pieces, which looked like many ties sewn together. the colors, robina explained, are to awaken the senses, encourage mindfulness. i loved the concept of mindfulness. it was the simplest but most meaningful takeaway for me.
i also learned to think of bugs and rodents and all general creepy things as "sentient beings" with minds, whose past negative karma had given them a birth in the lower realm. i realized as a human i can introduce kindness into their lives [by, yknow, not stamping them], thereby helping to improve their karma. my little hut in the forest was home to many such sentient beings. i was terrified the first night i was there, but after i humbly explained to them i was not going to harm them and i'd love it if they left me alone too, i relaxed and fell asleep. for the next ten days, we co-existed most peacefully.
some of the concepts were much tougher to understand. emptiness, for instance, sounds simple when you think of it in terms of physical objects but much tougher when applied to ourselves. here it is in the context of a chair: a chair is a name given to a collection of many different things [legs, seat, back]. if you take away these components, you are not left with something separate called a chair. so also people are collections of the causes and conditions that brought them to being. take those causes away and there is no separate "me" or "i" left behind.
yeah, it really twisted my mind into knots. next week, i'm going back to tushita for a 9-day course during which we will only discuss emptiness! whooo.
the meditation practices were also really hard for me at first. i eventually slipped into the groove after all the kicking and screaming, but it still always kind of felt like this doodle. the object was to have one part of your mind quietly observing all the other parts of your mind, all your other thoughts. i'd be happily sitting on my cushion thinking i was doing a damn good job of it [and being aware of the fact that i was thinking this] when it would suddenly hit me that there was in fact a giant mountain of thoughts and feelings and things standing behind my observing mind! then i'd get into this power struggle with my mind to drag the mountain in front of the observer. that's around the time the kicking and screaming would start.
i also loved observing the people in the course with me. many became good friends and alliances through the sometimes difficult process. most i just observed from a distance. our course was to be conducted in total silence so it was fascinating how much body language said about them. this is will [or the back of his head and the top of his back tattoo], a large american who was my neighbor, group member, ashram-buddy.
marie was danish. she wore a pretty head scarf and asked interesting questions in a really happy sounding voice.
brian from ireland sitting on a yellow cushion in a geometric shirt and pocket flaps a-flapping.
neil was an irish farmer with an incomprehensible accent and a scholarly manner.
[the girly with the balloon wasn't at the course, she just played in my head.]
the lastest and loveliest thing to show about tushita is this:
on our last day, i walked into the meditation hall and found this scrap of paper sitting on my low orange table. i'm not sure if it was left there for me or flew to me from someone else's table, but i guess it was meant for me in a way. i may forget the teachings but i'm never going to forget the moment in which i saw this and laughed right out loud to myself. i've kept it in my wallet and it makes me happyhappy every time.
her name
"...according to the legend, the dragons give you a secret name in their language. and you must never disclose this name. to tell anyone your dragon name is to give them power over you. any time they call out to you, you have to go to them, you are drawn to them."
"that afternoon in your house, i felt as if i was telling you my dragon name. and now you know it and you can do with it what you will."
fourteen years and counting
"...after the darkness was created, his days were spent being hunted by it. it didn't want to hunt him, it just wanted him to feel hunted. and so it chased him all day, being careful not to ever catch him. but not letting him escape either.
one day, he made the choice and stopped. with a planet of fear in his heart, he turned around and looked at the darkness for the very first time. and it was his face he saw in it.
from that day on, he made everything light. the darkness stayed dark, but it was so bright, it couldn't see him."
"it reminded me of you."
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
in three weeks
i went from
a noisy cricket match
into a bus with a funky geometric floor
out a dinky airplane
into a city more tibet than india
with a quirky restaurant
and lovely tibetan thenthuk with a book
to a silent forest
and a whispery ashram where i could take no pictures but made many doodles (coming up)
to a music-filled house
to a perfect, silent train journey into the desert
straight on to a chaotic film set
and back to the city
to familiar things, both sad and funny
and barely a week later, i've already booked my tickets to go back to the ashram
and do it all over again next month
a noisy cricket match
into a bus with a funky geometric floor
out a dinky airplane
into a city more tibet than india
with a quirky restaurant
and lovely tibetan thenthuk with a book
to a silent forest
and a whispery ashram where i could take no pictures but made many doodles (coming up)
to a music-filled house
to a perfect, silent train journey into the desert
straight on to a chaotic film set
and back to the city
to familiar things, both sad and funny
and barely a week later, i've already booked my tickets to go back to the ashram
and do it all over again next month
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