Interdependence

I found this shell in the shallow water of the Banana River, a lagoon that runs from Cape Canaveral in the north to the Indian River in the south. I picked it up because I was attracted to the deep green color, which of course dried to an ordinary grey. But I love it for its worm casings and barnacles, the traces of the many lives nurturing and nurtured by the creature that made this shell, concrete proof that our lives continue on past the death of the biological body and the mass of psychic energy we call the self. Had I resisted the temptation to plunge my arm into the cold water and take this shell, it undoubtedly would have offered refuge to a succession of hermit crabs before it began breaking up, turning slowly to sand, shifting back and forth under the surface of the clear green water.

Our bodies are as soft and vulnerable as the mollusk that grew this shell. And our selves have no more substance than the waves that break on the shore. But we do exist beyond what we call our "selves," in the wind and the tides and the sand under foot.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Cocoa Beach

Winter Solstice Events

Tallgrass Zen Center
Winter Solstice
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Deep Creek Community Center

Meditation from 9 am - 5 pm
with consulting interviews
bring your own lunch
tea provided

Potluck at 5:30 pm

Candlelight Kido at 6:30 pm

All events are open to the public,
no prior experience necessary
free will offering to cover rental of facility

for directions call 785-537-8713 or e-mail tallgrasszen @ yahoo. com

Kwan Se Um Bosal / Ji Jang Bosal

Yesterday we had our first ever kido retreat led by Linc Rhodes, JDPSN. It featured about seven hours of chanting kwanseumbosal over and over while sitting and walking and keeping time with percussion instruments. In the words of Sam Wisely, it was "interesting." At one point, about 4 hours into our afternoon chanting, everyone seemed to wake up together and began hitting their instruments hard. Several us of were hitting the floor. The energy was palpable. This went on for a while. It's hard to explain how one minute you can be practically falling over with exhaustion and the next minute clear and exhilarated.

This morning we had practice at Ana Franklin's Yoga Studio and chanted Ji Jang Bosal to commemorate 9/11. Ji Jang Bosal is the "earth storehouse boddhisatva," which is a lovely way to think of the dead. Afterward we sat in a circle and talked and ate Ana's delicious meal. Thank you, Ana!

And many thanks to everyone who participated in both events, especially to Linc for traveling so far and being so steady.

kwanseumbosal kwanseumbosal kwanseumbosal

Tallgrass Zen Kido Retreat

Saturday, September 10, 2011

Guiding Teacher Linc Rhodes JDPSN

Deep Creek Community Center
In the Flint Hills of Kansas
10 minutes from Manhattan,kansas

Kido chanting retreats consist primarily of chanting with breaks for meals. We chant “Kwan Seum Bosal”, the Korean name for the bodhisattva of compassion, while sitting, standing and walking. These retreats are suitable for beginners as well as experienced students. Kido begins at 6am & ends at 9:30 pm.


$50 general public
$45 Kwan um members
$40 dharma teachers
scholarships/work exchange

to register call 785-537-8713 or e-mail tallgrasszen@yahoo.com

Tallgrass Zen Center is affiliated with the Kwan Um School of Zen
http://tallgrasszen.blogspot.com/

Buddha’s Birthday Poem

look up into the sky
look into the Baby Buddha’s eyes.

despite his declaration: “Only I am holy”
we love the Baby Buddha anyway.

before he could teach us to WAKE UP
he let go of silver spoons to grow up.

look into the Baby Buddha’s eyes
in the face of everyone you meet.

in the early morning twilight
as planets align in the eastern sky
buffalo graze on tallgrass.

Happy Buddha’s Birthday

Margaret Wheeler
May 10, 2011

Jijang bosal for Honey

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Honey

My little cat Honey is dying. She was diagnosed two or maybe three weeks ago with kidney failure, and despite my best efforts has slowly wasted away. I am very sad. I’m also feeling very guilty because I was negligent in various ways.

We adopted Honey nine years ago from the local animal shelter. She was a pregnant stray who was very close to being euthanized. So in another sense I am feeling quite virtuous because we prolonged her life, and because her life was by and large a good one, with plenty of food and water and love.

Somewhere between guilt and virtue lies a truth about our lives and our deaths. I don’t know what it is.

I know that I love the little creature and that she loves me. She’s lying right now in the garden, under a rose bush, in the sunshine, while her life slowly ebbs away. Margaret and I have been weeding the vegetable garden, stopping now and then to visit with her. She lifts her head a bit when we touch her then falls back into a doze. This is best death I can give her, to let her lie in a safe familiar place, to return to her again and again so she can hear my voice and feel my touch.

I know that there is great teaching in all this, about suffering and impermanence. But right now all I want to do is cry.