Morning Trip (208)

“The Heart Remembers Everything It Loved
Everything remembers something. The rock, its fiery bed,
cooling and fissuring into cracked pieces, the rub
of watery fingers along its edge.

The cloud remembers being elephant, camel, giraffe,
remembers being a veil over the face of the sun,
gathering itself together for the fall.

The turtle remembers the sea, sliding over and under
its belly, remembers legs like wings, escaping down
the sand under the beaks of savage birds.

The tree remembers the story of each ring, the years
of drought, the floods, the way things came
walking slowly towards it long ago.

And the skin remembers its scars, and the bone aches
where it was broken. The feet remember the dance,
and the arms remember lifting up the child.

The heart remembers everything it loved and gave away,
everything it lost and found again, and everyone
it loved, the heart cannot forget.”

– Joyce Sutphen

Morning Trip (109) and Syria, Do Humans Ever Learn? –or, no no but my phallus is bigger than yours

“And so our Civil War raised questions that have been raised a number of times since: Can you force people to change their hearts and minds? Can you make them good by violence? Again and again human nature has replied no. Again and again, ignoring human nature and history, politicians have answered yes. And yet it seems true that Martin Luther King Jr. and his followers, by refusing to answer violence with violence, did more to alter racial attitudes in the South than was done by all the death and damage of the Civil War.”
–Wendell Berry, imagination in place

Noticing and Choosing Mooring and Grounding

I got up early.
I looked at my hair.
I laughed.
I pulled on a pair of shorts.
The body said that it was up to some.
The head laughed in joy and at the intoned limits of the body.
It was agreed the drive would be made to the Tree Place.

Some
the entire idea of some, in the head today, so far
accomplished
peace
mooring
feeling self
apart
smiling at the puzzle recognition of energy
the one that begins automatic restructure
energy flows
pieces refit
point one
the ground

Home
treatment for the lungs
anxiety and spin
tell the brain to fret
and also to spin
today
signal of the mooring
more than anger or regret
a beacon
not to grasp
desperation high
a steady marker
a hold at core
observe the body and mind
wait
for the notice of the beacon
breathe
in
out
and listen
to the next, last, gift provided
as reminder.

Live.

Morning Trip (46)

“The water that flows down the mountain does not think that it flows down the mountain.
The cloud that leaves the valley does not think that it leaves the valley.

A philosopher asked the Buddha to neither speak nor be silent.

It is known how difficult it is to shut the prison door? Words and speech disappear.

If mind is not – mind, who can we ask for advice?

The old monk who thinks he can calm the mind of another is
just mocking everyone around him, and he doesn’t even know it.

The sea is calm when the wind stops blowing.
Still, we search outside of ourselves.
One burst of laughter dissipates a thousand doubts.

I yearn for the soul
of marvelous truth.
Coming back to myself,
I walk beneath the shining moon.

Stars move with silent sounds.
The universe is calm, nothing
brings trouble.
Perfect tranquility: nothing
whatsoever is happening.

Everyday thought is the way.

Without walking for days,
one is suddenly at home.

When confronted by people, you can say yes or no.

Words are never perfect.
Even if people stop speculating,
we still have to use things
to point out the truth.

Wake up! Wake up! Don’t let anyone despise you for another moment.

I have a touching story to tell you. But please wait until this cloud passes.
Otherwise, even if I tell you the story perfectly, the distance between us will still be ten thousand miles.

Those who are enlightened
who see through
the eyes of great wisdom,
can see noon at midnight.

The deepest truths disclose themselves naturally,
don’t even ask the hermit on the hill.

Space is one, without a crack:
By what road does the scent of the cinnamon flowers
come to us at the end of the day?

This is Buddha’s examination.
Those who pass the test of emptiness
will be declared winners.

For your name to be on the list of winners, don’t leave blank pages.
– Tran Thai Tong
Koans from the Khoa Hu – Lessons in Emptiness

Morning Trip

“The Midnight Club

The gifted have told us for years
that they want to be loved
For what they are, that they,
in whatever fullness is theirs,
Are perishable in twilight,
just like us. So they work all night
in rooms that are cold and
webbed with the moon’s light;
Sometimes, during the day,
they lean on their cars,
And stare into the blistering
valley, glassy and golden,
But mainly they sit, hunched
in the dark, feet on the floor,
Hands on the table, shirts with a
bloodstain over the heart.”
– Mark Strand, The Continuous Life