Friday Morning: I get the Faint Glimmers… almost like a humming of the eyes. I get the dreams and the hopes, telegraphing into my mind, my body, my soul. Though I am often weary of the world, I get the faint glimmers that we are still in the middle of a great change, and no one, no one, can truly know where we are going.
Faint Glimmers… incremental and massive change. Here is to the times we live in, the loves we share, and to the little ones emerging.
Have a good weekend…!
On The Menu
C’est le bonheur – Les Paris Bamako – (Amadou et Mariam jamming away!)
I in the Triangle: Robert Anton Wilson
Poetry: Sitting With Master Master Hsu Yun
C’est le bonheur – Les Paris Bamako
Subhuti was Buddha’s disciple. He was able to understand the potency of emptiness, the viewpoint that nothing exists except in its relationship of subjectivity and objectivity.
One day Subhuti, in a mood of sublime emptiness, was sitting under a tree. Flowers began to fall about him.
“We are praising you for your discourse on emptiness,” the gods whispered to him.
“But I have not spoken of emptiness,” said Subhuti.
“You have not spoken of emptiness, we have not heard emptiness,” responded the gods. “This is the true emptiness.” And blossoms showered upon Subhuti as rain.
“It has always been the prerogative of children and half-wits to point out that the emperor has no clothes. But the half-wit remains a half-wit, and the emperor remains an emperor.” “
The difference between a violin and a viola is that a viola burns longer.”
“Historians are like deaf people who go on answering questions that no one has asked them.”
“I’ll be more enthusiastic about encouraging thinking outside the box when there’s evidence of any thinking going on inside it.”
“Never have children, only grandchildren.”
“Now and then an innocent man is sent to the legislature.”
I in the Triangle: Robert Anton Wilson- Pt.3
Poetry: Sitting With Master Master Hsu Yun
In Response to Layman Ma Guanyuan for a Special Verse
I don’t carry a gentleman’s lute
Or own a longevity crane.
I’m as undistinguished as smoke
And casual as sunset clouds.
Scattered and low.
Scattered and low.
Sometimes I roam along Bilu Peak
Or lounge around Maitreya’s Court.
Who needs seven hundred lifetimes?
Who needs to be the houseguest of an Immortal?
You can measure what’s empty or catch hold of the wind;
But the hardships of an ascetic monk are beyond reckoning.
You can move an entire mountain or shrink a great distance;
But nobody can plumb the depths of spiritual emptiness.
In the space of just a single thought
A thousand years can be speeded up or stopped.
But the distance light travels in those thousand years
Wouldn’t reach the limits of a monk’s travails.
I could have been a deckhand
And traveled all the seas;
Or else a simple laborer,
A porter with a pole.
What if I had been born noble and wealthy?
Shakya was; but he rejected that
And so would I. Ah. Ah.
So I don’t carry a gentleman’s lute
Or walk around with longevity cranes.
I just go, scattered and low, scattered and low.
As obscure as smoke and casual as those sunset clouds.
For Mr. He Jingtian, a Layman of Great Compassion
Once, he competed for reputation,
And struggled for advantage in the world
As the Chu and the Han chased each other through the Gates of Qin.
Yet, in a nap, no longer than it takes to cook millet,
In a brief dream, he entered that peerless realm of emptiness.
This hero who solved the riddle of the world!
This man who sleeps as well on featherbed or grass!
Who copes with all the world’s events
And doesn’t calculate priorities.
With empty hand does he command the yin and yang of time.
It’s so hard for the Buddha to save us!
We take a wrong turn a thousand times.
Those who truly crave liberation
Must quickly take advantage of their time.
The Buddha’s words will shine like the white moon,
Illuminating the path that’s otherwise unlit.
The Temple Bell will awaken the sincere but sleeping…
Dong… Dong… again, again, it calls.
Think about the chances! Born as human beings!
Intelligent and strong! But our minds are seared with troubles
And we’re desperate for refuge from ourselves.
I’ve learned the teachings of the Dharma
And store that knowledge in my heart.
Guarding it keeps me safely here at home.
I know that what seems to exist came out of nowhere.
And what seems to disappear, never went away.
Appearing and vanishing – the illusions of coming and going.
Another illusion, a sadder one, is that we two human beings
Can ever stay together long.
For Mr. Hua Yenjing at Fenglin Temple: An Admonishment Against
Feeling Upset Over A Monk’s Broken Porcelain Bowl
I’ve got a piece of porcelain.
I value it at more than a hundred billion yen.
When I show it, its brightness fills all space.
When I put it away, it leaves not a trace.
At night it’s the light within books.
Open or closed, the books contain that shining.
My porcelain can’t be burned by raging fire.
The greatest flood can’t sweep it off or drown it.
The smartest thief can’t steal it and
The cleverest of ghosts can’t spirit it away.
My porcelain is the Dragon Maiden’s Pearl
More valuable than several cities’ worth of Jade.
It might be fit to display in Maitreya’s Hall
Or on a pedestal in front of Duobao Pagoda.
Inside my porcelain bowl there’s dazzling light
Outside there’s just the luster of the bright clear moon
No less than the famous Pearl of Mani
It can shine through a crack and fill the Empty Realm.
There are too many details to explain.
If your tray is too full you can’t carry it.
As well as I’m able, I’ve tried to direct you.
When you grasp this yourself, you’ll know what I mean.
Years Months Days Hours
One year and then another.
Appearances gradually change.
Bone marrow shrivels.
Eyebrows thin away.
This time-limited body is like a mound of slurry.
In the Triple World, earth, air, fire and water mingle and change.
This is all our emotions allow us to notice
And their sight obstructs our view of Heaven.
One month and then another.
The light and dark pass like melting snow.
No part can be kept for long.
Only the Dharma does not come or go.
The lacquer bowl suddenly breaks.
You are like the Dragon of Heaven – born to be lively and free.
A roc can’t live in a crane’s nest.
A little jiaoliao bird needs to stay near mosquito ponds.
One day and then another.
They never wear themselves out.
Give up your judgments about everything.
It’s all insubstantial in the end.
All things under the sun come to an end and dissolve.
Spend what time you have in honest simplicity.
Just one breath of the Eternal
Admits you to the Great Chamber.
One hour and then another.
Inexorably march, step by step.
Whenever I meet you, we each smile.
But who is it who drags your corpse around?
Steadfast and unchangeable
Always mindful of this or that.
You’re young and strong. Exert yourself!
Don’t wait… oh please don’t wait
Until you’re much too old and weak.