poetry, photography and reflections on life, aging, and dharma
shortly after the apple the labeling began, all the this and that, the these and those, all the ins and outs – who decides? this discriminating mind as useful and as dangerous as a knife –what makes one bloom a flower and the next a weed? here is a power beyond all words– choose to … Read more
Abandon all hope of fruition -Lojong slogan Avoid the trap of hope and fear -Shambhala Buddhist teaching Isn’t hope a good thing? When we bump into these teachings on “hope,” we trip. It can be really confusing — aren’t we taught that we should be hopeful people? Yes and no — “hope” can … Read more
we learned a couple of days ago that a young man (mid 20’s) who went to school with my two sons recently took his own life. I know of two other cases here in our little town of young men about the same age choosing the same sad end. beyond that, I know of maybe … Read more
as the first clouds of the coming storm ride up and over the mountains, catching and casting the gold of the late day sun, while in the valleys arrayed to the east deep cloud-shadows slide up and over and around, caressing the long curves of her hills, then fall away, smoothly like the silk of … Read more
A while ago I talked about the thousand small decisions that make up the guts of any commitment– after the rush of initial enthusiasm, the essential drudgery of sustained action (carrying water, chopping wood.) Today I want to speak to two old friends of mine that come up once you’re committed – I call them … Read more
it feels as though I’m past the pedigreed part of my life, finished with bloodlines and credentials done caring if he/she/it/we are descended from a long line of champions–“mister hester chester of nestor farms” –done with leashes done with heeling, with coming when called, done with staying for treats it feels as though now it’s … Read more
somebody blew up boston yesterday, but at least it’s sunny here, though I must say still cold. this bookstore has an entire room given over to poetry, row upon row of new and selected, collected this and that, each page scratching toward something that might be true. three dead, seventeen legs torn off, the face … Read more
A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about this quality of going “all in.” Since then, I’ve been working a lot with what this means in practice, and a couple of specific things have surfaced. First, it seems like diving in, to whatever pool your working with, involves one big decision (“JUMP IN!”), immediately followed … Read more
I recently spent two weeks at Karme Choling, the Shambhala meditation center in Barnett Varmont. The founder of Shambhala, Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche, was cremated there upon his death and lay in state in the shrine room where we practiced. This has always been a powerfully special place for me. This poem was written during that … Read more
spring in these mountains is a fibrous season — winter’s age-hardened fingers gripping the land like the hand of a dying man. after every warming day, while the streams run full with the blood of the melt, the moon climbs a constellated sky, and the cold deep of space drops again to harden these hills … Read more