Reading 'Three Pillars of Zen' by Philip Kapleau.
Therein is the story of Dogen achieving full awakening through these words uttered by his master Ju-ching: "You must let fall body and mind." As Dogen heard these words his Mind's eye suddenly expanded in a flood of light and understanding.
Later, Dogen appeared at Ju-ching's room and lit a stick of incense as a ceremonial gesture and postrated himself before his master.
The master perceived at once from Dogen's walk, his postrations, and the comprehending look in his eyes that he had had a great enlightenment.
"Why are you lighting a stick of incense," he asked.
"I have experienced the dropping of body and mind," said Dogen.
"You have dropped body and mind, body and mind have indeed dropped," Ju-ching exclaimed.
Dogen remonstrated: "Don't give me your sanction so readily."
"I am not sanctioning you so readily."
Reversing their roles, Dogen demanded: "Show me that you are not readily sanctioning me."
And Ju-chin repeated: "This is body and mind dropped," demonstrating.
Whereupon Dogen prostrated himself again before his master as a gesture of respect and gratitude.
"That's 'dropping' dropped," added Ju-ching.
Dogen continued his zazen training in China for another two years before returning to Japan...
This is a story at the start of the book and I feel excited reading it!!!
How can one let fall body and mind?
*****
Tuesday, 13 November 2012
Tuesday, 6 November 2012
in a womb
in a womb.
time non-existent;
not even the concept
of time, cold, fear...
only the beating of the heart
beating in the womb;
the whole womb beating
from vacuum to vacuum,
beyond beginning and end;
a vague sense of something infinite;
a womb beyond the womb,
nameless...
*****
time non-existent;
not even the concept
of time, cold, fear...
only the beating of the heart
beating in the womb;
the whole womb beating
from vacuum to vacuum,
beyond beginning and end;
a vague sense of something infinite;
a womb beyond the womb,
nameless...
*****
Thursday, 1 November 2012
bump
distant cyclone
soft breeze wafting in
through my window
the rain, a steady monotone
over cricket chirping
the glow of the cigarette butt...
the thought of a joke!
***
i punched in the above lines on the blog last night so i could remember the mood of that moment. now, the morning after, i am trying to recapture it. not of any particular relevance, except that i am monitoring the ebb and flow of the mood these days and finding it fascinating.
as a person interested in the weather, its mood changes and its illogical logic, i was watching the progress of the cyclonic storm 'Nilam,' which spiralled in over the peninsula from the southwest Bay of Bengal on Wednesday evening, causing heavy rainfall in Tamil Nadu, Andhra Pradesh and nearby regions. the models of the India Meteorology Department had shown the possibility of the cyclone bringing rains in Kerala also.
as i sat in the dark smoking my final cigatette of the day, i could imagine the cyclone far away perambulating over the peninsula and feel its sweep blow softly in through the window. i felt like being in the entire system, and the system kept expanding beyond even the circle of 'Nilam.' another severe cyclonic storm had only just now breathed itself out on the other side of the globe. i was sitting there by the window smoking my final cigarette of the day and feeling the entire atmosphere flow and heave over the earth and i was moving farther out and expanding into the solar system and i felt like i would expand further into areas unknown, when, suddenly, i came down with a bump. the thought of something foolish i had asked someone during the day, making everyone laugh, of course at my expense, ended the journey. i finished the cigarette and went to sleep.
*****
soft breeze wafting in
through my window
the rain, a steady monotone
over cricket chirping
the glow of the cigarette butt...
the thought of a joke!
***
i punched in the above lines on the blog last night so i could remember the mood of that moment. now, the morning after, i am trying to recapture it. not of any particular relevance, except that i am monitoring the ebb and flow of the mood these days and finding it fascinating.
as a person interested in the weather, its mood changes and its illogical logic, i was watching the progress of the cyclonic storm 'Nilam,' which spiralled in over the peninsula from the southwest Bay of Bengal on Wednesday evening, causing heavy rainfall in Tamil Nadu, Andhra Pradesh and nearby regions. the models of the India Meteorology Department had shown the possibility of the cyclone bringing rains in Kerala also.
as i sat in the dark smoking my final cigatette of the day, i could imagine the cyclone far away perambulating over the peninsula and feel its sweep blow softly in through the window. i felt like being in the entire system, and the system kept expanding beyond even the circle of 'Nilam.' another severe cyclonic storm had only just now breathed itself out on the other side of the globe. i was sitting there by the window smoking my final cigarette of the day and feeling the entire atmosphere flow and heave over the earth and i was moving farther out and expanding into the solar system and i felt like i would expand further into areas unknown, when, suddenly, i came down with a bump. the thought of something foolish i had asked someone during the day, making everyone laugh, of course at my expense, ended the journey. i finished the cigarette and went to sleep.
*****
Monday, 29 October 2012
Neha starts into the world of letters
No function as such. Just Neha's parents, uncle, aunt and cousin, we grandparents and my mom.
I take her finger over a spread of rice on a plate sprinkled with a few tulsi leaves and take her finger around the letters HARI SREE GANAPATHAYE NAMA!
And I visualize Neha launching on her wings gently into the air fanning her wings to stay still in the air to seek everyone's blessings before soaring up into the skies.
Keep your freshness all through your life, Moloo, and then you learn exciting things all through your life!
Monday, 20 August 2012
On my morning walk today, thoughts slipped into the technique involved in judo. It is based on being alert, agile and ego-less. You have to know what meditation is to excel in it. I have not had the fortune to learn it, but I can understand its principle. It is about being calm and quickly adjusting your position within any storm of aggression from outside, so that you act as the fulcrum turning the very same aggressive force down. And you do it without any emotion. There is no anger. If there is anger you lose your alertness and agility and you cannot quickly adjust your position to be the fulcrum. And if you do not come to that position at the right moment you will get hurt. You will lose the match. Then you are not a good judo player. If you do not know meditation you cannot be good at judo. Even a frail man can bring down a giant if he is alert and agile. You have to be a nobody to be alert and agile, because, when you are a 'body' with all the involved ego, you have a certain amount of mass, which is an impediment in being alert, agile and quick.
*****
*****
Thursday, 16 August 2012
silence
all sounds exist in this silence.
the kingfisher
blinking
into the pond
the wind swishing
the rain rushing
the feet
pounding the path home
the breath pausing
for breath
and the bell and the bleating
of the goat, the cawing of the crows...
*****
the kingfisher
blinking
into the pond
the wind swishing
the rain rushing
the feet
pounding the path home
the breath pausing
for breath
and the bell and the bleating
of the goat, the cawing of the crows...
*****
Friday, 10 August 2012
Parameswaran
Venu—reading a book, understanding just a little of what the writer had conceived.
Venu—brushing his teeth, enjoying the sprinkle from the shower, soap in the eyes.
Venu—having his breakfast, upma with mango pickles, saliva sprouting.
Venu—driving to work, flowing with the traffic, keeping safe distance, seeing everything…
I feel so alert today, hovering a few feet above myself and watching
what I am doing, like watching a person not myself
negotiating a world in which I have no part and yet
someone by this name I know is playing out a role and I see his emotions
those are not mine
and feel how he feels when the wind blows on his face and hear what he hears
when they honk the horn…
—this person who is not me…
This takes me to something I had noticed in a childhood friend. Parameswaran is his name. He has this habit of referring to himself in third person only.
“When Parameswaran was in the town today, a sudden thought struck him. Why not buy a kite for Venu,” I remember him saying once, giving me a kite.
He is some 10 years older than me.
It is said that when I was a very small kid—just beginning to walk, perhaps—I had urinated in a glass that was there on the kitchen floor.
And Parameswaran took a good gulp of it thinking it was coconut water, emptied into the glass when mother broke coconut for use in the kitchen.
“Parameswaran still remembers the taste of Venu's urine,” he would say whenever we meet, even after many years. It is not he, but someone by the name Parameswaran who still remembers that old incident.
It is always someone else, a third person, who is experiencing everything.
I remember him once falling from a tree and spraining his ankle badly. Other boys playing with him surrounded him and started trying their crude methods at setting the sprain right, holding him by the toe and shaking the leg and twisting the injured ankle this way and that.
He howled out, writhing in pain: “Hoooo-hooo-huhuhooo…you will kill Parameswaran! Please leave Parameswaran alone!”
And he was also giggling with merriment over Parameswaran’s plight, laughing, even as he was screaming out in pain.
*****
Venu—brushing his teeth, enjoying the sprinkle from the shower, soap in the eyes.
Venu—having his breakfast, upma with mango pickles, saliva sprouting.
Venu—driving to work, flowing with the traffic, keeping safe distance, seeing everything…
I feel so alert today, hovering a few feet above myself and watching
what I am doing, like watching a person not myself
negotiating a world in which I have no part and yet
someone by this name I know is playing out a role and I see his emotions
those are not mine
and feel how he feels when the wind blows on his face and hear what he hears
when they honk the horn…
—this person who is not me…
This takes me to something I had noticed in a childhood friend. Parameswaran is his name. He has this habit of referring to himself in third person only.
“When Parameswaran was in the town today, a sudden thought struck him. Why not buy a kite for Venu,” I remember him saying once, giving me a kite.
He is some 10 years older than me.
It is said that when I was a very small kid—just beginning to walk, perhaps—I had urinated in a glass that was there on the kitchen floor.
And Parameswaran took a good gulp of it thinking it was coconut water, emptied into the glass when mother broke coconut for use in the kitchen.
“Parameswaran still remembers the taste of Venu's urine,” he would say whenever we meet, even after many years. It is not he, but someone by the name Parameswaran who still remembers that old incident.
It is always someone else, a third person, who is experiencing everything.
I remember him once falling from a tree and spraining his ankle badly. Other boys playing with him surrounded him and started trying their crude methods at setting the sprain right, holding him by the toe and shaking the leg and twisting the injured ankle this way and that.
He howled out, writhing in pain: “Hoooo-hooo-huhuhooo…you will kill Parameswaran! Please leave Parameswaran alone!”
And he was also giggling with merriment over Parameswaran’s plight, laughing, even as he was screaming out in pain.
*****
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)