'That which arises, also ceases.'
Personal Blogs
I have become quite fond of standing and watching puddles in the rain. There is something oddly fascinating about them, they are like the visual equivalent of white noise. I can get into a state of serene composure just standing and watching the shapes and ripples the rain makes on the surface.
The waves of the sea feel magic as I walk along. My peripheral vision changing as I move in sync with the ocean next to me, the waves changing shape all the time, a liquid reminder of anicca (impermanence). The air all around reveals its invisible presence in the dancing movement of the numerous plant beings, under the wings of birds, in sounds, and the tactile sense of it on my skin and within each breath.
I notice my mood, and how I am in a different state of mind than I was at the beginning of my walk and how this too keeps changing.
Though these are dark days
I feel something good coming
The wind changing
Re-invigorating hope
Bringing an end to greed, hate, and delusion
Emancipation from ignorance and confusion.
Though the heat is on
And the planet burns
We will sing our song.
Skint and emaciated
Struggling to make ends meet
As the waters come flooding
And the suffering comes spinning
We will go on singing.
A song of genorosity, kindness, and clear-seeing.
About the path of peace that leads to the end of suffering.
About profound friendship and harmony with all beings.
We will go on singing.
Till the day is done
Till extinction's won
And all things fade away
Become undone
Transient
Like a Bubble in a stream
A dream within a dream.
Where is the self?
Insubstantial
Gone.
Tired.
And caught up in the things of the world.
Hands up, it was me.
I lost my equanimity.
But feel closer now,
closer to the other shore,
Knock knock knocking on heaven's door.
Everything is insubstantial, empty,
just like you and me.
always changing,
rearranging.
Phasing.
A bit under the weather today. Woke up with a touch of sickness this morning. Didn't feel comfortable lying in bed as had sweated a lot in the night. So I got up and had a bath. Then sat in meditation with a Zen group I sit with regularly. Felt quite unwell whilst I sat, and have an annoying cough which kept interrupting the flow of meditation and stopped me getting into a deep state of concentration. At first I wondered why on Earth I was sitting meditating with others on Zoom when I just wasn't feeling it. But I remembered a story about a monk who got sick with malaria, and he carried on sitting and meditating with the sangha every evening, and even though he felt like he was on death's door, and felt gravely ill, he kept meditating and it was hardwork, he struggled; but he also persevered and eventually managed to reach a flow state known as samhadi (A profound deep stillness, lucidity and unification of mind) and from then on his sickness turned around and he got better. I have heard other stories like this, so I think there is something to it. There's something powerful and healing about getting into a state of samhadi. I didn't manage to do that today, after 30 minutes I felt like I had had enough and left the sitting to lie down for a bit.
But it was not a wasted effort, there was merit there. I think just sitting with the sickness and learning how to flow with it and be kind to myself was a helpful experience. I tried to remain aware and mindful throughout and learn what I could about the mind and how to be okay with ill health and pain; not reacting, accepting things as they are, letting them be, without the suffering.
I can't seem to generate the energy of metta (loving-kindness, goodwill, friendliness) today, feel a bit weak and fatigued, athough I will persevere with that as I have found doing metta practise for the bacteria/viruses causing sickness in my body has powerfully turned things around for me in the past. I can't seem to bring up that feeling just now though, so am spending a lot of time in equanimity. I may listen to a playlist of dharma talks on metta later, as using the voice of another can help to generate the feeling of metta when I am struggling to be able to.
Remembering the five wise reflections oddly brings me comfort, and seems to help the mind to accept the way things are. It reminds me that the first four reflections: ageing, sickness, death, and separation are natural, and happen to all living beings. The last reflection reminds me to show kindness to myself and others, and develop a generous heart and try to give in whatever form I can, even if that is just silently practising metta for myself and others, it still helps. As these are actions that can bring one good karma.
The Five wise reflections
I am of the nature to age; I have not gone beyond old age.
I am of the nature to get sick; I have not gone beyond ill health.
I am of the nature to die; I have not gone beyond dying.
Everything I hold dear and everyone that I love,
Will become separated from me due to the nature of change (of impermanence).
I am the owner of my karma, heir of my karma,
Born of my karma, related to my karma.
My karma is the ground on which I stand.
Therefore should I frequently remember:
Whatever actions I do for good or for ill,
Become the karma I inherit.
It is the breeze that moves the leaves in the trees across from my window.
The sound of someone using a chainsaw
My sadness
My aching body
And a flapping wing
A myriad vibrations sail across the element of air to my eardrum.
This is the moment where the wave energy of the Big Bang is currently at.
On its long journey back to the void from where it came
This is where all the magic and mystery and true knowing is.
Even just writing about this the wave has passed, it does not pause for anyone.
Even the mightiest of stars and black holes will one day disappear
Nothing lasts, not this civilisation nor any that will follow.
Our lives are brief flickers
If we are too caught up in beliefs and delusions about what reality is or should be
If we keep chasing things we think will make us happy.
We miss the voice of God
This blog might contain posts that are only visible to logged-in users, or where only logged-in users can comment. If you have an account on the system, please log in for full access.