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#3882 - Tuesday, May 4, 2010 - Editor: Jerry Katz  

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The Mental Pause

I am going through the Mental Pause. Not the menopause. This comes about
the same time, though.  Some advaitists teach this as an actual
principle, can you imagine? They would have us do this on purpose! They
advocate being in a room and staying with the emptiness. Not wondering
why you came into the room in the first place. Was it to get some peanut
butter or to defrost the refrigerator. Do Zen masters have this problem.
Do they just sit and forget stuff, like milk and bread on the way home
from the zendo. Are there patriarchs of peanut butter?

The old master sat with
his tongue stuck to the roof
of his mind.
Yum.

I am an advocate of all things tasty, fresh and good for you. I just
can’t always remember it. So I end up eating Fritos and Cheetos and
Cheeze Whiz and Cocoa Puffs with whole milk instead of soy or almond
milk. I am like that in my impermanency. My thoughts are definitely
impermanent. That is perhaps why I cannot finish what I start. War and
Peace, to me, might include installments of Tvgasm.com and Facebook
pages of my nearest and dearest jillion friends. I don’t Twitter because
I don’t have time for the inanity. Stop the inanity. Now there’s a good
Tweet.

The new master sat
with his iPad
watching the old frog
plop into the virtual pond.
Blog. Tweet.

As I travel through the badlands of this essay on the old gray mare of
my mind, I suddenly decide to alight and encamp among the blog rushes
growing wild around the virtual pond. Soon I am lost in thoughts of
assorted and sundry enlightened ones blogging about their spiritual
virtuosity. The reeds and clarinets of awakened egos are suddenly giving
me a headache of monstrous proportions. Before I know it, I will be just
another nondual celeb faking it until I am making it.  So onto the final
haiku:

I dismantled my walking stick today
and sat down on the ground of my being.
Ouch.

Vicki Woodyard
http://www.bobwoodyard.com

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