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#1287 Friday, December 13, 2002 Edited by Gloria
photo by Lee
Love "Snow in Mashiko, Japan"
This is a photo I took today. It is of Kay (Sensei's grandson) taking dishes Sensei just
decorated to have Fukiyan put inlay colored slip in the decoration. Been busy at the
workshop. In the last months of my 3 year apprenticeship. Making my own work for
the 3rd chamber of the Noborigama kiln that will be fired in March. -from E-Zendo
Yes -- and can we
look a little deeper ...
Any "how" involves an opposition.
Those who know how are known only in contrast with
those who don't.
Beyond contrast and opposition, there is no
movement, no becoming.
No movement out of the body, and no movement into
the body. No disidentification and no identification.
Clear from before any beginning of time, a clarity
which allows all arisings to be known, without
Indeed, the whole
idea of 'know-how' in relation to the peace and
freedom of non-identification is inapplicable; as Balsekar says, "it is so
There is a well-known story of Zen Master Chao-chou (Nan-chuan),
originally from "The Transmission of the Lamp":
On another occasion Ts'ung-shen asked, "What is Tao?"
Nan-ch'uan answered, "Your everyday mind is the Tao."
He asked, "Can one reach towards it?"
Nan-ch'uan answered, "If you try to reach towards it, you will miss it."
Ts'ung-shen argued; "If I do not try to reach it, how can I know the Tao?"
Nan-ch'uan said, "The Tao has nothing to do with knowing it or not
knowing it. Knowing it is mere deluded consciousness, and not knowing it
is but nondifferentiation. When you enter the real Tao without doubt, it
will be like the great sky, the vastness itself. How could it be right to
argue within oneself if it is right or wrong?"
Good to hear your voice again, Dan. A hearty aloha and welcome to
Like the rings
extending outward in the water when a stone is dropped
in a pond. Words and concepts, seen in the Light of unitive perception,
have their appropriateness: like shadows, they are a trick of the light;
like shit, they are a by-product of digestion; like waves, they are a
secondary phenomenon. They can be a sideshow and a distraction, if taken
for the main thing, or they can reflect the beauty of grace.
Talk is all just birdsong. The birds sing meaningfully, to them; to
us, not knowing the meaning, it is delightful sound, or noise. The birds
boast and scold and warn and explain, as we do. And I'm sure even the
birds resonate with love to the music of their singing and the chorus of
blended voices. In the world of phenomena, the warnings and scoldings and
greetings and prayers all have their significance, not to be ignored. In
the essential world, it's all the sound of Joy and Life.
Free from both worlds, we can let it all happen and respond with
thought (expressions) without thought (concepts), doing non-doing (wei wu
wei) without contriving; not thinking and then speaking, but speaking and
thinking at once; as you say, "speech acts." Like birds, who cannot lie,
to whom singing is as natural as breathing.
The ripples in the water and the dropping of the stone are one
from "The Way of Chuang-Tzu," Thomas Merton: *Action and Non-action* The non-action of the wise man is not inaction. It is not studied. It is not shaken by anything. The sage is quiet because he is not moved. Not because he *wills* to be quiet. Still water is like glass. You can look into it and see the bristles on your chin. It is a perfect level; A carpenter could use it. If water is so clear, so level, How much more the spirit of man? The heart of the wise man is tranquil. It is the mirror of heaven and earth, The glass of everything. Emptiness, stillness, tranquillity, tastelessness, Silence, non-action: this is the level of heaven and earth. This is perfect Tao. Wise men find here Their resting place. Resting, they are empty. From emptiness comes the unconditioned. From this, the conditioned, the individual things. So from the sage's emptiness, stillness arises: From stillness, action. From action, attainment. From their stillness comes their non- action, which is also action. And is, therefore, their attainment. For stillness is joy. Joy is free from care. Fruitful in long years, Joy does all things without concern: For emptiness, stillness, tranquility, tastelessness. Silence, and non-action Are the root of things.
JERRY KATZ NDSN
'Some disciples are
destroying Osho memories' BHOPAL: The conspiracy to wipe off
all Osho memories which involved destruction of sacred Buddha Hall Dhyan Mandir
by Canadian disci- ple Michael O' Bryne at the Osho Commune in Pune should be
imme- diately stopped, urged one of the 21st trusted Osho disciples Swamy Anand
Thagat here on Thursday.
That 'One' that can
'be' out of
'not-being', pulls itself up by it's
imaginary hairs and raises itSelf
from not Being into Being. This bright
Consciousness of the Self, as the
light of the flame, appears out of
see the flash movie:
Ramana Maharshi also
made a visual,
as help to uncover the invariable state of the Self,
that goes ahead of and beyond the world of objects.
[Source: Ramana Upanishad, by Philip Renard]
NDS "Integrated Recognition"
Reading my morning "AIA" message
I began to reflect about recogonizing
truth in ones reality. The message
"Realization is the discovery,
recognition and acceptance of
Reality as it is --
and the integration of
this Recognition into
our daily lives."
Yes. I feel that the most difficult thing to see is the elusive obvious.
What is the elusive obvious?
Could it be the Seeing Itself?
Love and Gratitude,
Nobody has ever seen it.
"There was a man upon the stair.
A little man who wasn't there.
He wasn't there again today,
gee I wish he'd go away."
I think it is difficult to see because:
isn't an it
O its everywhere
O its everything
O it's your hat
O you can't see your own eyes
O you and it are not two
O the fish in the sea is not thirsty
O stop and see
O stop, look and listen
O yellow pages?
O none of the below....
"Breaking All the Rules with Holiday Cheer 2"
burst into the house the other day after having been in town all
her father, shouting as if she would explode otherwise. "Mommy! Mommy! Yook
what we got!" When Jim walked in carrying a Christmas tree I think my heart stopped
beating. Actually, I was mortified. I had never been allowed to have one in the house
as a child and hadn't even thought about having one as an adult. I think I was expecting
the skies to open up and a streak of lightning to come down and zap us to smithereens!
But nothing happened.
said he couldn't help it; it was for her, and when they'd set it
up and plugged it in, I
understood why. The little tree has got fiber-optic, rainbow-colored lights that,
especially when all other lights are low, dazzle and twirl like magic. I will never forget
the look on our child's face when her daddy first turned it on.
haven't given the tree any kind of special meaning whatsoever,
and so now
another religious rule gets to be broken. It sure seems that, in just going along and
being our natural selves, we manage to break an awful lot of rules. However, the
embrace of what before had been held as not acceptable, and the simultaneous release
of love and joy that seem to be byproducts of this embrace, always make the
unintended rule-breaking well worth it. And anyways, isn't the expansion of the heart
and the pervading atmosphere of peace and love the whole point of the holiday
FRANCIS HUNTER DailyDharma
goal of life is rapture.
Art is the way we experience it .~Joseph Campbell
From the book, Reflections on the Art of Living, published by Harper Collins.
AL LARUS NDS
Tagore poem changed into this season
On the white hills of endless
worlds, children meet.
The infinite sky is motionless overhead and the forest is silent.
On the white hills of endless worlds the children meet with shouts and dance.
They build their houses with snow.
On skis and sleds they fly towards the sun.
have their play on the white hills of worlds.
They know not how to build a house, they know not how to milk a cow.
Farmers bring in the horses, lumberjacks work in the woods, while
children make angels in the snow and run away.
They seek not for hidden treasures, gold and precious stones is covered until spring.
The white hill is resting and pale gleams the smile of winter sun
sings meaningless ballads to the children, like a
mother while rocking her baby's cradle.
The snow plays with the children and pale gleams the smile of winter sun
the white hills of endless worlds, children meet.
Tempest roams in the pathless sky,
who is too cold will fall asleep and fade away,
death is hiding in the forest
and children play.
On the white hills of endless worlds is the great meeting of children.
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