Thawing

We came out of the bitter cold into two days above freezing. Today I walked out onto the land and was nourished. Came back two and a half hours later, not cold yet, and very warmed inside. Writing about it now is an invitation for you to do the same, however that may be in your time and place.

I dressed warmly knowing everything would be wet. Brought tobacco for making offerings. Followed intuition about which way to go, and it took me to the river, along a new path not blocked by fallen trees. I sat down in the old place where we always go, and looked and felt. Offered tobacco, but you know that’s not really enough. An offering should be something FROM me, not just bought. I hadn’t grown and dried that tobacco. I offered some song, some chanting. And gave my attention.

It seems to me that there are thousands of spirits in the wild land across the river. I feel them. The name is “water spirits” and the river is utterly alive – but it seems to me that the water spirits live over there in the trees and on the land. I offered wordless song that felt like it came from them. And then, feeling the earth and rocky bluff below me, a deeper chant that felt like that. It was all guessing, all made up, but their presence was very real, I could feel it humming in my body.

I stayed there a long time. Did I ask for anything? I don’t remember. During the last Advisory Council meeting, River suggested asking for help from the nonhuman beings – that asking that I’m always talking about. Then we had weeks of cold and snow, and today was my first real day outside on the land. I think I asked the spirits for help, and also thought of coming back to strengthen this relationship, especially with the rocky bluff which hasn’t been so easy to feel.

From there, following guidance, I left the river and walked toward the North Gate, making my way through fallen trees – all the old paths are changed. But I did reach that place, and felt its warmth, kindness, safety. Stayed there a long time too. Thought about cutting some paths so we can get here more easily.

I found the place where I dreamed of a meditation hut. Fallen trees have changed it, it was hard to recognize, and I imagined that building. Imagined what this forest and earth are asking from us, now.

Walked on to the East Gate, which I knew was covered by broken limbs and fallen trees. It was easy enough to come down from the road, and I found the spot immediately. The creeks were bubbling and lively, but the whole place was fallen limbs. I felt sad. Again, thought about offering care. The energy was so different! This is near two places where I’ve given a lot of energy, planting food trees and making spaces, stairs, paths – to be altered first by floods a couple of hears ago, now by the fallen trees. Perhaps my sadness was for the loss of what I’d done, perhaps the land itself feels broken. Either way, there’s healing work to do here.

Through the orchard, seeking the South Altar – but not sure where it is, and can’t easily get around the many fallen trees. Some were old and it was their time to come down. I just don’t know. Again, the creek was beautiful, bubbling and clear.

I went then to the Elders’ Circle – the Elders being two ancient cottonwood trees, much injured but still standing, and the circle is full of fallen limbs.

Then to the Jizo Garden, formerly an imaginary circle among the red pines by the driveway, now full of downed wood and firewood piles. I spoke with the spirit who lives there, and promised not to take down trees without asking her. Tried to promise to create a space that would be a safe home for her, even while it is offered to others as a place for mourning and remembrance.

Promised myself I wouldn’t wait so long next time.

At the Land Care Retreat we will do this visiting of sacred places. And how wonderful it would be to do healing work with the forests! Whatever actions we do that weekend, it will be about finding intimacy with the land.

So there we are.

EVENTS NOTES

That weekend is moved to May 17-19, so I can attend a retreat with my former teacher the following weekend. There’s a limit of ten people, and I’m hoping for a full group.

There may be some work weekends before then – which could be used as work exchange for the Land Care Retreat. Indoor construction; maple sugaring; firewood, fence building, garden preparation… the list goes on. If you’re interested in any of these projects, or are available on a particular date, please let me know.

Also there will be meditation retreats: February and March 22-24; April 26-27, and so forth. And there’s space for a couple more people in the potluck group. Please ask.

May you be safe, and warm enough, during the rest of this winter and spring. Or if you’re in summer, may you be safe from fire and drought.

Love,

Shodo

Play is how we become ourselves

To know play, remember.

For me, the memory goes back to the house where I lived from ages three to twelve. One summer I spent hours perfecting “tricks” on the swing set, demanding my mother watch again and again until she said no. My own body was the universe, and I was finding out what it could do. Another year I found the wild iris like a miracle back in the wild spaces, and every year after spent weeks in the spring looking for them until I remembered where they were, under the two tall spruce trees, and learned when they arrived, late May. Every year I picked raspberries that my mother made into pies, cobblers, and jams. I couldn’t imagine how people lived with their back yard shoved up against somebody else’s yard – like a prison. But some of those children were playing ball on city streets, or roaming the urban wilderness with their friends.

I can’t remember my own discovery of my fingers and toes. But I remember some of my grandchildrens’ first learnings, and my childrens’ are somewhere in memory. I was there when my first grandchild first climbed down the stairs instead of up. The exploration of physical reality, the ability to grasp, learning to walk, learning to run, learning to manage our own bodies – these are play, even while they’re the most important work. Play is how we become ourselves.

Nature
Go to the wildest place you can easily find. Writing that, I think of trees and unmanaged plants, forests and rivers and oceans and rocky bluffs – but this is not the whole thing. Weeds pushing up through a sidewalk. Children running wild. Wild party dancing? Sitting zazen? The beach, with dead fish and seaweed washed up on it, or marshes and mosquitoes and damselflies, or climbing a steep hillside during January thaw and getting a little scared, learning how to stay safe. I don’t know. Go and let it soak into you, spend some time, give it your full attention. And if you feel like digging a hole, building a sand castle, walking on a log, playing pirate – please do.

Please write a comment on this post, and tell us somewhere you’ve found the wild. Short is fine. Take a chance, be the first. Do it as play, we can play together and encourage each other with words. (I’ll write one too.)

Recommended reading:
Playing by Heart: The Vision and Practice of Belonging – O. Fred Donaldson – this was utterly inspiring. I gave my copy to a friend who was planning to become an elementary school teacher; I hope it helped him play in the classroom.
Last Child in the Woods: Saving our Children from Nature-Deficit Disorder – Richard Louv. This is more about why than how. It’s convincing.
And please get these books from your local library (they’ll probably buy it for you) or your local bookstore, not the giants.

That’s it for now.

My plans for next week are to finally catch up with the journal postings from last summer’s trip. I’ll make a note here when I do it.

Love,
Shodo

Happenings and thoughts

Dear Friends of Mountains and Waters,

Here are a few announcements and some thoughts.

Calendar Announcements:

February 1, 7 pm: Book reading at Clouds in Water Zen Center, St. Paul. This is for the book Zen Teachings in Challenging Times. Shodo is one of four local authors who will be reading, and books will be offered for sale. Clouds in Water Zen Center is at 445 Farrington Street, St. Paul, Minnesota 55103 USA, 651-222-6968, info@cloudsinwater.org

February 3, Dharma talk at Northfield Buddhist Center, 313½ Division St, Northfield. Come for 9:30 am sitting, talk begins at 10:15. http://northfieldmeditation.org/upcoming-events-2/

March 10, Dharma talk at Clouds in Water (address above). This link will help you figure out what time to arrive – though I suggest being in the zendo by 9 am, the talk will begin at 9:35.

Sesshin (Zen sitting retreat): 3-day sesshin at the farm, February 22-24, March 22-24, April 26-28. Most months have sesshin on the fourth weekend, but sometimes it’s replaced by something (Land Care Retreat, for instance). Registration is always essential. Local people are welcome to come and sit for a few hours, but I need to know so I can be prepared to open the door.

Land Care Retreat May 17-19: Detailed information and registration here. But – registration is required, limit ten people, there is a fee, you can arrange for work exchange in advance. Here are a few words about this: Our intention in this retreat is to open to the natural world around us, learning to be members rather than owners. The meditation and Dharma talk times help us to drop away preconceptions, calm down, and be more available to the real teachers – woods, water, soils, our own bodies, the human community. The afternoon work times are for hands-on practice of listening to the land and responding to it in detail – soils, plants, whatever is requested. That work might be farming or wilderness care; either will involve intimate engagement with the earth and its beings.

Potlucks: We’re still having potlucks on the third Sundays at 5:30-8 pm. They’re not posted here because we’re trying to create an lasting small group. If you want to join one, ask to be added to the emails.

Volunteer work days: There’s no schedule yet, but there will be. Meanwhile, you can let us know if interested in any of these projects – that will help us set dates. .

•  Maple sugaring – late February through March
•  Construction, mostly indoors – ongoing, if you have skills
• Firewood (hauling, splitting, chain saw work) – ongoing if you have skills. A group event can be scheduled, so please ask even if you are new to this.
•  Move plants, rebuild orchard fence – April/May and ongoing
•  Plant garden – May/June

And many other possibilities. Feel free to offer what you have.

Membership:

There is now formal membership, and it would be really great if people actually joined, look here for information. Also it would be great if people made a commitment to donate regularly, even a small amount. It eases the work and anxiety of asking. Makes it possible to plan.

Thoughts:

There’s so much happening. I have probably spent hours following the matter of the Covington High School boys and Nathan Phillips. I’m now waiting to hear how the school responds to the invitation from Phillips and his people, for a healing ceremony. Otherwise – I’m out. Too much hate coming from too many directions.

But I want to write about the conversation we had at the potluck last night. We’re working with thoughtful speakers who combine spirituality and some kind of engagement with the world. This month was Mushim Patricia Ikeda. Next month Robin Kimmerer.

We found ourselves in a discussion of faith, and of tribes – with examples from the Renaissance Festival community of traveling artists and craftspeople, and people taking care of each other. We don’t know a sustainable example of tribe in this time, though. It’s the dream of what could happen here at the farm, or around the farm.

That’s all for now.

Blessings and love to you all,

Shodo

Letting the Way find us – Part 3

There was a Japanese monk, once in the 1800’s, who wanted to visit Tibet, which was completely closed to foreigners. When he got there, sometimes he would be walking for days along mountain paths, and come to a fork where he had no idea which way to go. At these times, he sat down in zazen until a direction appeared. He called this “Decision-making samadhi.”

This poem is about that, and it helps me.

Do not try to save the whole world
or do anything grandiose.
Instead, create a clearing in the dense forest of your life
and wait there patiently,
until the song that is your life
falls into your own cupped hands
and you recognize and greet it.
Only then will you know how to give yourself
to this world
so worthy of rescue.

—Martha Postlewaite

“Create a clearing…and wait there patiently” until you know which way to go.

I waited for years, never patiently, and finally the direction showed itself while I was sitting in the zendo in monastic retreat. I found myself walking through the Great Plains along a pipeline. When that was done, I again knew what came next. It keeps changing, but that’s fine.

Perhaps this is not useful. I could be more specific. Here, these things:

•  Do sitting meditation, zazen or any other kind, not until it becomes uncomfortable but even longer, until it becomes joyful. Sit with whatever emotions come up, and with the chaotic thoughts, with hopes and fears, with everything. Sit and be patient with yourself, and with your impatience, until something settles down. Daily is good. Retreats are good, and they go best with a group and a teacher. When I say “any other kind” I include yoga, and walking meditation, and lovingkindness meditation, and gratitude meditation, and body scans and even guided visualizations though I can’t promise what will come. Ultimately the point is to allow your life to be itself – to create that clearing in the forest and just wait, allowing your life to come forward.
•  If you do volunteer work, do it for its own sake and treasure every moment. Direct engagement with people – children, refugees, forests, anyone you meet face to face – is easiest for this, it can move you out of your internal focus. Political activism is probably hardest, too much goal focus.
•  Some people like journaling; a simple notebook is good, with date and location of each entry. Breathe and write. Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg is good if you want help.
•  And then there’s just noticing which way you’re going already. Wishcraft by Barbara Sher might be helpful. Get these books from your public library, you don’t need to own them.

Those are ways of making space in your life to hear what needs to be heard, or seen, or felt or tasted. Any way is fine.

If you already know your direction, follow it. It’s the only way to be alive, really. It can be discouraging and hard. All your faults appear, interfering with the work – or shaping it, how are we to know?

If you don’t do it, though, if you protect yourself from those humiliating mistakes and hide your character flaws – well, you can feel safe, and you can resent the people who are taking action, becoming known or even famous, who are far inferior to you. Resentment is a miserable way to live, and meanwhile your gifts wither on the vine. Forget safety.

More later.

Shodo

Mindfulness

So here’s the thing: will you be here for your life, or will you miss it?

Do you remember, perhaps, how summer days were in childhood? Did you wake in the morning with a whole day in front of you, go out the door to play with friends or to wander outdoors? Occasionally chores? And when evening came, you could barely remember morning, it was so long ago?

There’s an expression from a Zen teacher about sesshin (meditation retreat): “the days are as long as they were in childhood.” We sit facing a wall, with structured breaks for walking, eating, chanting, talks, and maybe a work period. With no escape except the daydream, the days are long, the minutes move slowly. That could be a blessing or a curse, but it’s mind’s habits that make it a curse.

Mindfulness is about becoming free from those habits. I could say changing those habits, and that would also be true. Develop the habit of calm, of readiness, of openness, of interest, replacing habits of fear, escape, or complaint.

One training is to sit still and upright, and let the mind follow the breath: sitting meditation. Of course the mind wanders, and the training is to bring it back. It can feel like work, because the mind’s wanderings seem fascinating, and the present seems boring. This is the cognitive mind, which only knows thoughts. But thoughts are just another experience, known in Buddhism as one of the six senses.

The mind of awareness knows more. The body itself is an infinity of sensations, when we notice them. Even just sounds – stop for a moment and listen, listen, listen. Even the most subtle movements of the body, proprioception. Heat and cold, the movement of air on the skin, the touch of clothing or objects. And the cognitive mind is a vast ocean, thoughts arising and falling, arising and being pursued, arising and being avoided. All the senses – sight, smell, taste as well as sound, touch, and thought – offer vast entertainment for the calm mind, and that calming eventually leads to the delight of deep calm called samadhi, or one-pointedness.

Every action, even stillness, becomes an ocean of sensation for the mind of awareness. And then you are alive.

Writing this is not to deny the thing called work, meaning taking an action with the intention of a result. That requires its own writing. Another time.

And here is something I’m aware of right now, in world events.

May you be here for your life.

Warmly,

Shodo

Land and Water Protection – today’s news January 8 2019

As I prepared to post the study group piece on mindfulness, I learned that the Canadian police have invaded the Unistoten Camp in British Columbia and arrested 14 people. For ongoing news as well as background information, see Unistoten.camp/.

Why do I post this? Our intention is to change our hearts to become part of the whole community of earth, and to work together to protect, sustain, and replenish the community of life. This should be natural – but in our time it is not. The earth is being destroyed in a thousand ways, and those who defend it are targets. The destruction is an important part of the contact of Mountains and WAters Alliance. We stand with defenders of earth and water.

If you can help in some way, please do. On the webpage, look for “support” to find many useful actions, some as small as sending an email.

a blessing for the new year

As we enter the new year, as the sun begins to return in the northern hemisphere, as we do not know at all what will happen – I offer this poem, which was sent to me, as a wish for you.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

May you fall madly in love this year …

in love with someone who unhinges your tired trajectory,

in love with a spouse of several years who might be aching for lightning,

in love with demanding children and crazy relatives ..

in love with the particular pedigree of genius insanity that has perhaps claimed you in spite of your reluctance ..

and certainly in love with an animal, a cloud, a redwood, the wild ..

these at least once a day.

May you fall in love with this fragile jewel of a world,

with hard work, real learning, just causes, petitioning and prayers.

May you fall in love with wonder itself,

with the grand mystery,

with all that feeds you in order that you may live ..

and with the responsibility that that confers.

May you fall in love with heartbreak and seeing how it’s stitched into everything.

May you fall in love with the natural order of things and with tears, tenderness and humility.

May this be a magnificent year for you.

May you fall deeply, madly, hopelessly, inextinguishably in love.

© Poetess (Rachelle Lamb) – used by permission.  https://www.rachellelamb.com, poetry at https://www.rachellelamb.com/mypoetry
Artwork: Jackie Morris (The House of Golden Dreams) – used by permission. http://www.jackiemorris.co.uk/blog/house-golden-dreams/

With love,

Shodo

What if our religion was each other?

“what if our religion was each other,
if our practice was our life,
if prayer, our words.
what if the temple was the earth,
if forests were our church,
if holy water—the rivers, lakes, and oceans.
what if meditation was our relationships,
if the teacher was life,
if wisdom was self-knowledge,
if love was the center of our being.”
—ganga white

Isn’t that the dream? Every day, every moment, every person and tree and pebble known as holy, met fully in joyous intimacy – isn’t that the dream of how life might be?

We’re working our way there. Here are some bits of this work. Perhaps one of them will speak to you.

There is now a small group, meeting monthly over food. We listen to a thought-provoking talk or watch a film, with time for discussion afterward. It was a little awkward at first; gradually it’s growing deeper. After the last meeting, another member said to me “We could actually do the things talked about – become that community rather than talking about it.” I agreed. I believe we will. It will take patience and persistence. (We’ve been listening to Martin Prechtel, “Grief and Praise,” a talk on Youtube in three segments. We haven’t chosen the next one yet, and we will come back to this.)

This reminds me of something we did at Sanshin Zen Community. There’s a Zen tradition called the Precepts Ceremony, or the Full Moon Ceremony. At Sanshin we did it differently: there was chanting and reciting the precepts, then a short talk by the teacher and a sharing circle. Each of us said what precept we were working with now. It took over a year to move from formality to real sharing. I still remember the time when, after saying what I had planned to say, I broke down and confessed to killing hundreds of ants that had gotten into my bed. Reflecting on our own ethics and our own lives – this is a space for connecting.

As an individual, I give attention to the earth as temple and the forests as church. I spend time there, and make offerings. I speak with and listen to whatever earth beings call to me. In caring for the land at the farm, I attempt to remember that they are beings too. The invasive plants and animals especially – they are so much like me as a civilized human – taking their space even though it hurts others – that I struggle with how to restrain them. The kinds of restraint that came from my European ancestors are imprisonment from which I seek freedom. Do I do the same to others – even the not-human? Can they listen, can they change consciousness and learn to coexist? It seems highly doubtful, but as a colonizer dare I claim to be better than other colonizers? And yet, how can I not defend the native plants, not to mention those I planted for food?

So there is this thing I don’t know. I do my best to share it anyway, to make situations for others to meet the earth beings too. These are sometimes called “Land Care Retreat” and sometimes just farm workdays.

So I invite you to these actions – one or more of them:

• Gather with other people to make a holy place and time, as we are doing with the potluck/study group. Choose a theme, and adjust it from time to time. Make a habit of it; commit.

• Acknowledge the ones who are already with you – spouse, family, friends – honor them, worship the love between you, help it to grow. Just do this all the time.

• Worship the forests, the earth, the waters. Do it formally, making an offering of some kind – an offering of words or song or poetry, of dance or movement, of something you made – and listen and accept their offering too. Make a habit of it.

• Also do this with others. Be patient, and persist.

And that’s what I have to offer, as we turn toward 2019. Please practice community as religion, in every way.

“The sangha is the whole of the holy life.” (Said the Buddha to Ananda)

“To settle the self upon the self, and let the flower of your life-force bloom.”

In the old tradition, we remember Buddha’s enlightenment by sitting facing the wall for seven days. Together. It’s called Rohatsu sesshin.

We sat Rohatsu here at the farm. Mostly I sat; two people had planned to come and then weren’t able. One person joined me for the last evening, and somehow that made all the difference. Sitting alone can be hard. I move too often, and spend too much time taking care of things like meals – or just avoiding. This time, though, I sat 8-9 hours per day, with energy. I supported the intention by reading a little – first Francis Cook’s Sounds of Valley Streams, then Shantideva’s The Way of the Bodhisattva. I needed to hear the teaching in unfamiliar words; both of these helped.

There’s a place in me that’s deeply fed by sitting zazen. That place was hungry; I’ve missed too many retreats these past months, and one hour per day isn’t enough to satisfy. So I began, restless, and it took a few days to settle down.

I found myself studying anger. It goes like this: you sit down in a comfortable posture, take a few breaths, and invite the mind to settle down. During this process, thoughts come up – usually memories or hopes. They say, let them go, don’t dwell on them. Easy enough to say. They come back. And again. This week, a particular object would arise, of anger or complaint. It would keep coming back. I began to notice that I was holding to fixed opinions about the people involved. I began to notice the experience of anger in my body, a tightening here and there. I sat with that experience. It wasn’t generally pleasant.

Looking back, it seems to me that I invited the anger to come forward, to present itself. I noticed its temptation and how it made me unhappy, and how I didn’t like it. For days. I felt aversion toward my judgmental thoughts, toward my envy and resentment, toward the way I sometimes explode or criticize people. And, staying with it, something actually did settle down. My body became more calm. I liked it – this is called attraction.

Sometimes I strayed into hopes – visions of this or that about my life, it doesn’t really matter what. Or appreciation of things as they are right now. The opportunities for diversion are endless. I kept coming back, and the noise settled down gradually.

At the end of each day I did three prostrations, a small ceremony that is part of this big ceremony of remembrance. Sitting sesshin, sitting zazen, these are ceremonies, done for their own sake, not to achieve anything. I suspect that they shape the structure of the universe. I know that, as Katagiri Roshi wrote above, there is a settling down, and a dropping of the structures of habit that interfere with our lives.

That’s all the words I have today.

The next sesshin here will be February 22-24, and the next one March 22-24.

I’ll be teaching in Atlanta in January: a one-day retreat January 5 at Red Clay, a discussion January 6 at Red Clay, and a one-day retreat January 12 at Midtown Atlanta Zen.

February 1, 7 pm, at Clouds in Water in St. Paul there will be a book reading with authors from Zen Teachings in Challenging Times. March 10 I will offer the Sunday morning dharma talk at Clouds.

The Gods Will Come.

“Go ahead, light your candles, burn your incense, ring your bells and call out to the Gods but watch out, because the Gods will come. And they will put you on the anvil and fire up the forge and beat you and beat you until they turn brass into pure gold.” ~ Author Unknown

This writing is for those whose intention is holy. Who are committed to service. Who are willing to turn their lives over to the powers beyond human – by whatever name, here called The Gods – and be used for whatever is most needed by The Whole. That probably means you. If you doubt yourself, it still probably means you. Only if it sounds silly should you exclude yourself from this.

Stories come to mind, of people who have made that commitment, but there are too many. Please share yours, here in the comments. I offer mine, for starters.

I grew up in love with the natural world, and mostly excluded by my peers. My parents were good people, religious, with no psychological or social understanding of how to help me. (Years later I realized how much they loved and treasured me – fortunately while they were still alive.) So the beginning of my commitment would be whenever I started to see myself as an actor in the world. That would be late high school. There’s a marker: in 12^th grade, applying for a summer research program at a college, I remember saying “I want to understand everything, and I want it to be useful.” I thought that meant physics, and I didn’t know its use. Later I saw that it meant Buddhism, and the use is evolving.

There were two markers after that. In 2004, not knowing how to respond to political evil, I went to sit zazen (meditation) in public outside both the conventions. It was hard, and I was tired. And, walking from Boston to New York with an anarchist group. I learned that walking is home. In August 2011 I went to Washington with 350.org and got arrested at the White House. I stayed for a week, and on the other days mostly I sat zazen facing each day’s protest. One day I did walking meditation at the protest site. One day, as the only visible Buddhist, I led the group in metta (lovingkindness) meditation, and found it well received.

That September, during formal monastic training, while sitting in the zendo, there were pictures in my mind, pictures of walking along the KXL pipeline with a group of people. The pictures wouldn’t go away. I checked it out with teachers and advisors, and gradually concluded that I should do it. My own teacher simply said “Wait until you have Dharma Transmission.” Another year. The Compassionate Earth Walk happened in 2013.

The Walk itself was very hard, and I was often angry. The walkers talked about why it was so hard, and concluded that our proposal to heal the culture had invoked its faults in our group life. This was some consolation but it was still terribly hard.

I asked myself, again and again, what I could have done differently, what could have made it better. Yet I have never felt so alive, before or since, as when I was fully engaged in that work.

That is the point of this post: the experience of responding to the call is difficult. It is painful. It is full of “what I did wrong” or “what should I have done differently?” or “what a failure I am.”

“the Gods will come. And they will put you on the anvil and fire up the forge and beat you and beat you until they turn brass into pure gold.”

The matter of feeling inadequate is part of the process. It would be nice if we could refrain from beating ourselves up over our inadequacies. But it goes like this: we commit to doing something that is larger than our capacity. We do it – well or badly – and in the process, because our intention is pure, every single flaw is pushed in our face.

That is how it works – becoming more able for the next part of the work.

Two closing thoughts:

If you can recall yourself as part of the whole rather than an independent actor, it helps with those thoughts. There is no such thing as an independent actor; every one of us is a product of the entire world, embedded in it and supported by it. As are our flaws.

The awareness of the flaws is an essential part of the process. Still, there is kindness. Be good to yourself. Take care of yourself. Seek support from friends, see a therapist, get enough sleep, good food, calm and joy in your life.

To be continued.

Notes from Mountains and Waters Alliance, late fall

Greetings!

Here are a few announcements and a report from the past year.

Announcements:

The potluck group has gotten big enough that it’s not posted any more, to keep the size reasonable. If you would like to come, please email Shodo directly and ask. We’re sharing food and studying together.

Zen practice events:

• Rohatsu sesshin, December 1-8, at the farm. If you live nearby and would like to come out, even for a few hours, let me know by noon November 30. And if you are sitting somewhere else, please remember me in our long-distance sangha.
• “Finding Home in the Vow”: I’m going to work with this theme for a while.
  • One-day retreat with Red Clay Sangha, Atlanta, January 5, 9-5, and Dharma talk January 6.
  • One-day sesshin with Midtown Atlanta Zen, January 12, 8-6.
• 3-day sesshin at the farm, February 22-24 and March 22-24.
• Dharma talk at Clouds in Water Zen Center, St. Paul, MN, March 10.

End of year report:

It’s been a year of quiet, with a month-long retreat in the middle. I started writing a report on that retreat, and never finished – will do that soon. It included a lot of conversations with rocks, some encounters with hail, cold water, dryness – and a vow to support pine trees around the world.

At the farm, I started with a housemate and now have two, not community members but good energy. I’m in conversation with three potential members, all over 50 and all seeming like good possibilities. I posted about living here at https://www.ic.org.

We did some work on the house, and now have two proper bedrooms on the ground floor, plus a “guest room” that needs completion, and guest space in the attic. Of course there was maintenance – sanding and oiling the deck, some painting, and so forth. There was serious tornado damage, mostly to trees rather than buildings, and repair work continues. We are doing much heating with firewood, but it will run out, so we’re also using propane. When the tornado damaged wood dries we’ll have several years worth of wood. In the forest area, many trees are down, and there’s a sense of much hard work and also openness to change. The meditation hut in the woods just might be a log cabin.

In the spring we grafted fruit trees, but not too many of the grafts took. And many trees were girdled during the very late spring snows. Next year we’ll see what’s alive, and graft again.

Organization:

The Advisory Council met by phone every month except one; the Board met twice. We defined membership, discussed outreach and fundraising, and added a member to the Council.

The beautiful new website was created, with a few additions and modifications yet to go.

We applied for grants but did not get any; now one grant application is outstanding and another is in process. We didn’t do a fundraising campaign during this quiet time.

Action: In addition to the spiritual and ceremonial work, I’ve been meeting and talking with several environmental activist groups: a local group resisting Line 3 (northern Minnesota), Climate Disobedience Center (also direct action), and Community Rights Organizing work. Understanding why I felt the need to do this comes with Joanna Macy’s interpretation of the three parts of The Great Turning: protection (resistance to harm), building the new society (farm and community), and consciousness change (teaching Zen and all the MWA work). Theoretically, it’s fine for one person to focus on one part. But I feel better with some participation in all three.

Teaching and publications:

My essay “When the World is on Fire” appeared in Zen Teachings in Challenging Times by Temple Ground Press.

“Finding Home in the Vow” appeared in Boundless Vows, Endless Practice: Bodhisattva Vows in the 21^st Century, by Dogen Institute – my teacher’s organization.

The book I edited, The Mountains and Waters Sutra: A Practitioner’s Guide to Dogen’s Sansuikyo by my teacher Shohaku Okumura was published by Wisdom Publications.

I gave a talk and retreat in Columbus OH, at Red Clay Sangha in Atlanta GA, and a talk at Clouds in Water in St. Paul MN).

Books for sale:

These are all the books that include my writings now.

• Boundless Vows, Endless Practice: Bodhisattva Vows in the 21^st Century – $10
• Zen Teachings in Challenging Times – $14
• The Eightfold Path – also by Temple Ground Press – includes my essay “Right Action: The Whole World is My Body” – $14
• Take Up Your Life: Making Spirituality Work in the Real World – my first book, 1996. $20

If you would like to buy one or more books, please email me, and use Paypal or mail a check to Shodo Spring, 16922 Cabot Ave, Faribault, MN 55021. Add $3 for postage. I’ll mail them first class in recycled envelopes.

Membership:

We’ve defined membership formally. It’s not on the website yet, so let me post it here.

Introductory Member: Sign up as a member below, AND, at least once a year do at least one of the following,

• Learn: Participate in MWA retreats, classes, website discussions, etc, and/or inner spiritual practice,
• Act: Volunteer at the farm or with MWA, other action (including spiritual activism) in harmony with MWA principles,
• Donate: Donation in any amount is encouraged.

Engaged Member: Sign up as a member below, AND do all of the following:

• Learn: Participate in MWA retreats, classes, website discussions, etc, and/or inner spiritual practice at least three hours a month or one weekend a year.
• Act: Volunteer at the farm with MWA, or do other action (including spiritual activism) in harmony with MWA principles, at least three hours a month or one weekend a year.
• Connect: Communicate on a regular basis with other MWA human members in person or by online conversations/blog comments.
• Donate: Regular donation in any amount is encouraged.

At this point, there is no “below” for signing up. Please email me if you want to become a member.

Snow is falling, the sun is coming out occasionally, and it might reach 20F at the warmest point this afternoon. Winter comes, whether we like it or not.

Blessings and love to you all,

Shodo

Challenging new reading – Paul Kingsnorth and Morris Berman

Paul Kingsnorth‘s essay Dark Ecology begins with a contemplation of the scythe so lovely that I want to run outside right now and grab the scythe. Of course I would have to sharpen it first, and it’s not exactly the season. But, he says, a weed whacker or brush hog isn’t really more efficient than a scythe on the human scale, we’re just conditioned to think it is because it’s noisy and complex. Ivan Illich wrote about what he called “tools for conviviality” – they make us human – the scythe is one of those. The beauty of his words reminded me of why I have those old-fashioned saws and pickaxes and really would rather not use the lawn tractor.

Kingsnorth moves on to reflections on Theodore Kaczynski, whose writings he’s reading, and observes how he became the Unabomber. It was interesting to read his thoughts. LIke him, I was very uncomfortable at the thought of sharing anything at all with the Unabomber. But I do. And perhaps it’s that discomfort that leads him to ask the question of what to do. I find his response very similar to my own, so I’m sharing it here.

I ask myself: what, at this moment in history, would not be a waste of my time? And I arrive at five tentative answers:

One: Withdrawing. If you do this, a lot of people will call you a “defeatist” or a “doomer,” or claim you are “burnt out.” They will tell you that you have an obligation to work for climate justice or world peace or the end of bad things everywhere, and that “fighting” is always better than “quitting.” Ignore them, and take part in a very ancient practical and spiritual tradition: withdrawing from the fray. Withdraw not with cynicism, but with a questing mind. Withdraw so that you can allow yourself to sit back quietly and feel, intuit, work out what is right for you and what nature might need from you. Withdraw because refusing to help the machine advance—refusing to tighten the ratchet further—is a deeply moral position. Withdraw because action is not always more effective than inaction. Withdraw to examine your worldview: the cosmology, the paradigm, the assumptions, the direction of travel. All real change starts with withdrawal.

Two: Preserving nonhuman life. The revisionists will continue to tell us that wildness is dead, nature is for people, and Progress is God, and they will continue to be wrong. There is still much remaining of the earth’s wild diversity, but it may not remain for much longer. The human empire is the greatest threat to what remains of life on earth, and you are part of it. What can you do—really do, at a practical level—about this? Maybe you can buy up some land and rewild it; maybe you can let your garden run free; maybe you can work for a conservation group or set one up yourself; maybe you can put your body in the way of a bulldozer; maybe you can use your skills to prevent the destruction of yet another wild place. How can you create or protect a space for nonhuman nature to breathe easier; how can you give something that isn’t us a chance to survive our appetites?

Three: Getting your hands dirty. Root yourself in something: some practical work, some place, some way of doing. Pick up your scythe or your equivalent and get out there and do physical work in clean air surrounded by things you cannot control. Get away from your laptop and throw away your smartphone, if you have one. Ground yourself in things and places, learn or practice human-scale convivial skills. Only by doing that, rather than just talking about it, do you learn what is real and what’s not, and what makes sense and what is so much hot air.

Four: Insisting that nature has a value beyond utility. And telling everyone. Remember that you are one life-form among many and understand that everything has intrinsic value. If you want to call this “ecocentrism” or “deep ecology,” do it. If you want to call it something else, do that. If you want to look to tribal societies for your inspiration, do it. If that seems too gooey, just look up into the sky. Sit on the grass, touch a tree trunk, walk into the hills, dig in the garden, look at what you find in the soil, marvel at what the hell this thing called life could possibly be. Value it for what it is, try to understand what it is, and have nothing but pity or contempt for people who tell you that its only value is in what they can extract from it.

Five: Building refuges. The coming decades are likely to challenge much of what we think we know about what progress is, and about who we are in relation to the rest of nature. Advanced technologies will challenge our sense of what it means to be human at the same time as the tide of extinction rolls on. The ongoing collapse of social and economic infrastructures, and of the web of life itself, will kill off much of what we value. In this context, ask yourself: what power do you have to preserve what is of value—creatures, skills, things, places? Can you work, with others or alone, to create places or networks that act as refuges from the unfolding storm? Can you think, or act, like the librarian of a monastery through the Dark Ages, guarding the old books as empires rise and fall outside?

Morris Berman:  Why America Failed: The Roots of Imperial Decline.

There are two difficult matters here. The first, obviously, is that he says America is already a failure. To me, that’s painful but admitting it is also a kind of relief. I’m more interested, though, in his point about how America had to fail.

America – the United States – was founded by people who defined themselves in opposition to something else. Pilgrims seeking freedom of religion. Etc. Americans rebelling against Britain. Berman says, when you define yourself negatively rather than positively, you need an enemy in order to have a sense of self. Let me repeat that: When you define yourself negatively (as what you are not), in order to have a sense of self you need an enemy.

Is that what we do, as a culture? Does this explain Trump, and the left-wing resistance, and feminism, and so forth and so on? (Distinguish this from movements based on “Do not kill my people” and you get a feeling.

Life must have its own meaning. We, as individuals and as a society, need an identity.

This is what I’m thinking about right now.

Love,

Shodo

Moving into leadership

On Saturday, Thich Nhat Hanh returned to his root temple in Vietnam – the place where he entered the Way. He wrote “It has been my deep wish for many years now to return and live where my ancestral teachers lived … until the day this body disintegrates.” (Full letter is here.) Louise Dunlop sent me the video of his return, here.

Sunday morning, Tetsugen Bernie Glassman died. I was eating lunch with my friend Gentle Dragon, who practices with Zen Peacemaker Order, when she got a phone call telling her that he had passed. something about who he was –He was an important person in the world of Buddhist activism – Here’s something about his life.

I had mentioned that someone, quoting me, wanted to call me Roshi and I told her no. GD said, let them call you Roshi. The generation before us is leaving. We have to take our places, we have to step up. (And then she got the phone call. I think that’s the order of how it happened.) Once, there was a Zen abbot who refused ever to move into the abbot’s quarters, keeping his place as student even as he ran the monastery. But mostly, they accept the mantle. Here we are.

My teacher is retiring in a few years. Her teacher is practically retired. And I can see the faces of teachers passed away in the last few years. Our teachers are leaving. It’s time to step up.

This is for me. It might not apply to everyone. People still get to be young, beginners, learners – that time is important. But for me, with 35 years of Zen practice and 6 years since Dharma Transmission, I start to see a difference between hiding and humility.

This is something else, about daily practice:

In an apparent coincidence, my housemate was watching a film series on shamanism, and I joined him to listen to one talk. The speaker, a Peruvian shaman, was talking about always being in ceremony whether we know it or not. He spoke of ways to take care of that, like blessing the water before you drink it and the food before you eat it. And that reminded me: I used to live that way. It’s time to come back. It’s not a hardship, but it is a sacrifice – which means “making holy.”

I’ll write more another time.

And I’m doing some updates on various pages here.

Love to you all.

Shodo

Voting, Fascism, and Resistance

We live in difficult times. I started to list the events of the week, and gave up – there were too many and it was too depressing. Environmental (loss of species), climate (extreme weather events around the world), politics (fascist president elected in Brazil), and here in the U.S. increasing violence stoked by a President who supports white supremacists and barely manages to express compassion for victims – while cutting away at legal protections of humans and destroying the natural world as fast as possible. But on the other hand, there are extraordinary acts of compassion and courage. Muslims raise thousands of dollars to support the survivors of 11 Jews killed by hate and white supremacy. People are forming a caravan of love to meet the desperate refugee caravan heading for our southern border. And small acts of kindness happen everywhere. While courts occasionally decide in favor of human beings and the living earth.

I wanted to write a beautiful essay that takes all this into account and offers deep inspiration for how to live in these times.

I don’t have it, yet. So meanwhile, because there’s a deadline, I offer one thing: voting as resistance. There’s a saying:

“If voting made any difference, it would be illegal.”

This saying, re-interpreted, tells us why it’s important to vote in this election in particular.

Usually voting is just routine – in this country. The choices are boring, two versions of the corporate-war party, no versions of the human-in-natural-community reality, and one wants to just skip it. With a certain cynicism about how power works, one might feel like a dupe for participating.

This year, the suppression of the vote is so vigorous and so widespread that, I say, it demonstrates that voting actually does matter.

Please vote.

Here is the most concise summary I found of the many ways that people are being prevented from voting – and they are many, and the numbers are enough to change the results, and the people losing their votes are mostly people who we expect to vote Democratic. A Governor in Georgia, a Senator in North Dakota, and many more – please take a look at the article. For the most complete information on voter suppression and fraud over the years, check out Www.blackboxvoting.org, a nonpartisan website founded in 2003 by Bev Harris.

So I’m claiming that the suppression of the vote is itself evidence that your vote matters. I also say this: Voting is not self-expression. It is an exercise of power. We are deciding whether right-wing extremists (now called Republicans) will continue to control all three branches of government, or whether Congress can become a moderating force. The threat of Fascism – as described by people who remember Hitler’s rise to power – is clear and imminent in the United States. Our President is becoming more openly fascist ever day, claiming the right to define truth and override the Constitution, and setting a course of hate and fear.

Thus I say that, regardless of what you think of either party, this year we’re not in a position to boycott the elections. And third party voting is a form of boycott. I’ve done it many times, when it was safe. But this year we really need to vote for the lesser of two evils, because the greater evil threatens to divide the country, encourage murder in the street with impunity, and rewrite toe Constitution. This year, for one week, consider that voting may create a stopgap measure, buying a little time to do the work that must be done.

Voting is an exercise of power. Please use it, and wisely.

For more – Chris Hedges persists in offering depressing but credible analysis. Here’s a recent, long talk.

Please vote, and take all possible actions, and also change the world through acts of kindness, love, and prayers. We are in hard times; may we be refined rather than destroyed.

Peace and love,

Shodo

Letting the Way find us (part 2)

Years ago, a teacher at Tassajara Zen Mountain Center, said to me “We each have to find our own way.” There, when entering monastic practice for the first time, we would first sit in silence for five days. This was called “clarifying the mind.” Now, seeing more clearly, I recognize that this means dropping ideas and letting the Great Way find us.

Some things are now clear enough that I can share them with you. It seems like a direction change, but it’s not.

The most important thing that I am doing is my practice, also known as my work. At this time that means to carry on the combination of zazen (sitting meditation: just sitting with the whole universe as we all create each other) and intimate relationship with all beings of the earth. Those are actually the same, but one looks like sitting still and the other like walking outdoors, making ceremony and offerings, visiting sacred places.

To make space for this, I am dropping some activities. Most of them involve efforts to get people to join me in my work. I’m going to the “attraction rather than promotion” model.

• I continue to sit retreats, they will be posted here, and you can contact me about joining them. I’ll also work with the land, including some actual farming, and you can contact me if interested.
• Instead of formal fundraising, I’m earning money by working as a therapist and life coach. That takes time but is less distracting and more reliable than writing grants and doing fundraisers. If donations happen, I’ll be able to shift focus back to this work. If the “ideal” foundation appears, I’ll ask again.
• till invite you to join me with that vow to save the pine trees. A few people have.

Here are two talks that I liked, from 2016.

“The whole world is the true human body.”

“A single hand held out freely.”

Much love,

Shodo