trying

I have a certain yearning to describe my current state, but I find it so difficult to do so. This state experienced by my physical bodymind is one which I've aspired to for as long as I've considered myself part of a spiritual quest. It's like everything and nothing is happening at the same time; everything I see, I see completely, through and through. Anything and everything that falls on these senses does so in such a manner as to reveal its own nature as utterly indistinct from myself and the whole of the entire universe.

When I sit down to write about it, I cheat it of its true significance by assigning words and concepts to the apparent experience "I'm having." But truth be told, anything which I appear to feel about this is exactly that -- an appearance of experience -- and it does nothing but reveal the fact that nothing at all is happening beneath the experience. There is nothing, from which springs the apparent momentary experience, and then there is nothing, to which every moment returns. Ultimately, all is nothing.

One could discuss the ramifications of this insight in one's daily life, but such a discussion doesn't change the insight or its meaning; such discussion only perpetuates the creation of more words and concepts which do little to clarify or reveal it further.

All that happens is nothing: this continual unfolding of indistinct moments, one after the other. I skip across the surface of these watery moments with no effort, complete ease, and utter peace. Time has lost its meaning other than when it's needed as a reference point for specific physical experiences; other than these, there is no quest and no conflict -- only Being.

Official Canadian Temperature Conversion Chart

The one about the last cookout of the season makes me laugh, because I've still been barbecuing 2-3 nights a week, nonstop throughout the entire winter. Last week I grilled salmon fillets in my T-shirt in a freezing rainstorm, so that must make me extremely Canadian. Or maybe just stupid.

50° Fahrenheit (10° C)
Californians shiver uncontrollably
Canadians plant gardens

35° Fahrenheit (1.6° C)
Italian Cars won't start
Canadians drive with the windows down

32° Fahrenheit (0 ° C)
American water freezes
Canadian water get thicker

0° Fahrenheit (-17.9° C)
New York City landlords finally turn on the heat
Canadians have the last cookout of the season

-60° Fahrenheit (-51° C)
Mt. St. Helens freezes
Canadian Girl Guides sell cookies door-to-door

-100° Fahrenheit (-73° C)
Santa Claus abandons the North Pole
Canadians pull down their ear flaps.

-173° Fahrenheit (-114° C)
Ethyl alcohol Freezes
Canadians get frustrated when they can't thaw the keg

-460° Fahrenheit (-273° C)
Absolute zero; all atomic motion stops
Canadians start saying "Pretty cold out, eh?"

-500° Fahrenheit (-295° C)
Hell freezes over
The Toronto Maple Leafs win the Stanley Cup.

Such a good DailyDharma

This poem reminds me of a great conversation I had with Jerry late one night several years ago over a slice of pizza downtown. We were talking about food, and I was telling him this story about when I was in high school, and how I used to go to the 7-Eleven by my girlfriend's house after I dropped her off at night and buy a hoagie and an orange juice to have during my long drive home. He laughed out loud when I told him how much I used to look forward to that hoagie as I neared the end of each date with my girlfriend. He said, "And didn't you find that you almost enjoyed that hoagie more than the date after awhile?"

I've also heard him say something like enlightenment is all that and a bag of chips, or that it doesn't matter what you do when you're enlightened -- the enlightenment experience can be accessed through deep meditation or through eating a hamburger at McDonald's. This poem made me think of all that. It also made me think about how I thought I lost my mala beads on my Christmas vacation, but my mother-in-law found them last week in the pocket of a housecoat I'd borrowed while I was there. It's okay though, because I really don't miss them. They're not necessary for meditation, but they are quite nice to play with.

I woke up about 2:30 this morning and
thought about Philip's Hat.
It is bright lemon yellow,
with a little brim
all the way around, and a lime
green hat band, printed
with tropical plants.
It sits on top
of his shaved head. It upstages
every thing & every body.
He bought it at Walgreen's himself.
I mean it fortunately wasn't a gift
from an admirer.
Otherwise he is dressed in soft blues.
And in his hands
a long wooden string of Buddhist
Rosary beads, which he keeps
moving. I ask him which mantra
he is doing - but he tells me
In Zen, you don't have to bother
with any of that.
You can just play with the beads.

Joanne Kyger
From the book, Poems 1979-1989, published by Black Sparrow Press, 1991.

Here's a weird idea...

http://www.livejournal.com/talkread.bml?journal=news&itemid=63413