Odes & Woes of a Wayward Buddhist
I used to think I’d eventually stumble on some paradigm or insight and think, “This is it!” and it, ya know, actually be it. Now, it’s apparent that that’s never gonna be the case. Views are tools, and even a truth is only as valuable as it is useful. I’m a syncretist. I go deep […]
Somewhere out there, right now, someone is taking a crap outside. Just right there, on the ground. Maybe they’re drunk, maybe not—we have no way of knowing. And somewhere else, the Aurora Borealis is bedazzling the eyes of tourists while the locals carry on without ado. Miles away, a gazelle is racing across the land, […]
I’ve met a lot of brilliant people. Most of them are unaware that they’re brilliant, unaware that they’re special. Most of them are victims of mediocrity, their natural shine disregarded unless it can make someone else money. So, they abandon their dreams because keeping them alive causes too much suffering, too much dissatisfaction when […]
“We are all Buddhas,” I thought as another piercing headache jabbed through my cortex like an icicle. I navel-gazed in the drain for a moment, the swirling water reminded me of the shower scene from Psycho. I could almost see the filaments of blood lacing through the warm water. Four days. Four days of insurmountable […]
Awesome! After so many years of disciplined effort, I’m finally certifiable!!!
Originally posted on Speculative Non-Buddhism:
[Adam Greenfield’s most recent dispatch from London helps us think about the issue of practice that is so important to readers of this blog. Go here to subscribe to Adam Greenfield’s occasional dispatches. -GW] A Dispatch from Adam Greenfield* As I so often do, I found myself in a bookstore the other day,…
When the daydream is over, we wake where we were With the times had an echo, an obscuring blur Wisps of feeling—stubbornly struggling—occur When the daydream is over, we wake where we were The mourning dark, scrawled words with a slur With the times had an echo, an obscuring blur The heart’s drive still standing, […]
Souls aren’t given, they are cultivated, They’re nourished, assembled, wound, Woven, and stitched. They’re painted, They’re written—they are composed, Performed, danced, and sung. People aren’t born until they Give birth to themselves The wet birth is the Exchange of the embryo From the mother’s womb To the womb of the world, To which so many […]
He fell in love with a wall And then he was surprised When his head began to hurt Whose blood is this?
At the heart of things – Driftwood carrying tides, The names of two young Lovers etched into the grain There is a beauty to the irreverence, To the irrationality, subtle hints At a logic far too simple To be understood Drifting, each of us carried By the tides of our own humanity, Past the rules, […]
Another’s hands – Such a dangerous place To keep your heart But in your own chest? Such wasted beats Never fear a broken heart You’re in good company For it’s the dreamer’s ache No one ever said This was gonna be easy
Desire—the linchpin of action Emotions flashing out like Like cars on a light rail Passengers busy themselves Between terminals Some never get off Fear, sex, hope, and heat A life of pale memories Ghosts peaking up through The dimly lit passages etched In gray matter, a labyrinth Snaring a soiled lizard Whose venom blood Is […]
I’ve bashed memory quite a bit in the last few posts, but it isn’t all bad. Not only is it, ya know, kind of helpful in daily tasks like: going to work, picking up your kids from school, and remembering to put your pants on before you walk to the mailbox, but there really couldn’t […]
You can’t start Buddha practice already feeling relatively satisfied in life
I sure do talk about emptiness a lot, don’t I? That’s because it’s a big subject; I like approaching big subjects from several different angles. Also, not everyone even agrees on what emptiness is, or even if it is at all. Aren’t people weird? The Madhyamakins believed that emptiness was emptiness of essence, that all […]
