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(DIR) Post #B7oT8qAwOCjPlRwn20 by shonin@c.im
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#InPlace 1Decades ago, a playhouse for her childrenbut too much window glass for their playby the fence it stands now, forlorn, lost;neighbors' horses seem amusedThe image was probably taken about 2010, when the playhouse had been mostly unused for almost two decades. The shade tree, a Douglas fir, is already looking a little stressed, perhaps partly because the playhouse was built so near it when it was a small sapling. I move my table to read sutras by moonlight I pick wildflowers to fill my altar vase -- Shiwu (Stonehouse, tr. Red Pine)
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#InPlace 2Retired from public life, she moves in, oldeight books she's written here not bad books, yet she must admitshe has failed to save the world "Failing to save the world" in this instance means having attempted, without much impact, to promote to society at large an agrarian subsistence lifestyle as a response to resource depletion and climate change. Those who speak for corporations proved to have the louder voice, and like many others the old woman has been worn down considerably. She is trying a new approach. To glorify the Way what should people turn to?To words and deeds that agreeBut oceans of greed never fill upand sprouts of delusion keep growing—Shiwu (Stonehouse) (after Red Pine, tr.)
(DIR) Post #B7oT8r9YkpDknSJCW8 by shonin@c.im
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This begins a series called In Place, about life in Gogo-an, a stick-built hut at the former Stony Run Farm in Pleasant Hill, Oregon, 2010-2020. There are 62 of these. They are primarily #buddhist and if you'd rather not see them, I'd say mute the hashtag #InPlace for the next couple of months.To see them all together, try the tag search on the blog, https://manzokuan.blogspot.com/search/label/In%20Place. They're in reverse chronological order.There is a book version, but it lacks the last few entries. https://www.thriftbooks.com/w/in-place_risa-stephanie-bear/25518942/#edition=69184452&idiq=60666249
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#InPlace 3Thoughts pursued, thoughts of thoughts pursued, writer's cramp alternating with writer's blockone old mouse chases her tail While writing these books the retired woman began to see the limits of her own vision and to consider how she might, if not actually "escape the circle of discourse," at least resolve some doubts."All your opinions are still not put to rest. Your mind is still hindered by attachments. Thus, you are as one sitting outside the gate."-- Keizan, "Instructions on How to Do Pure Meditation" (tr. Nearman)
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#InPlace 4An impromptu kitchen appearsrice with powdered vegetable leavessips tea while watchingrain slant into cottonwoods The old woman cut down and firewooded five cottonwood trees here in 2009 because hawks were using them to rest in while counting Beloved's chickens. Some thirty young cottonwoods, and a few ash trees, sprouted from among the stumps and roots, and are now (2015) the "woodland" associated with the hut. Their trembling leaves are wonderful teachers. The steamer handles rice, barley, oats, potatoes and leafy vegetables with ease, providing a measure of day-to-day independence from the homestead, which is a couple of hundred feet away. Mice took an interest in the cork lid of the rice jar, so that had to be replaced. Though the hut is small, it includes the entire world. -- Shitou (tr. Leighton and Tanahashi)
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#InPlace 5She cleans up this site;weeping, she finds toys her children had mislaid among thornsand stones, moss-covered Here in 2013 the impending demise of the fir tree has become quite evident. It had shaded the hut as a playhouse and a writer's cabin, as well as numerous picnics. In the 1990s, children played round this structure and inevitably lost some things; plastic toys last a long time but moss may hide them for awhile, waiting to be rediscovered like archeological treasures. ...retiring to my hut I accept white hairbut sigh that today and the years gone byare mindless like the rivers flowing east-- Han Shan (Cold Mountain, tr. Red Pine)
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#InPlace 6She's thrown a heavy old fir beamfrom bank to bank, replacing a bridge long gone, and cut new trail right through old undergrowth: back door An intimidating thicket of Himalaya berry canes of course grew up beneath the cottonwoods along the dry wash (a respectable creek in rainy season) but with time and a pair of secateurs such things can be pushed back, if a path is wanted. If you don’t understand the way right before you,how will you know the path as you walk?-- Shitou (tr. Soto-Shu Liturgy Conference)
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#InPlace 7Snips rusty fence wireto set a gate; a tiny parkland indeep brush -- this dry washsilent in summer; in winter roaring The gate provides an entryway from the poultry pasture, allowing access to the hut should anything happen to the main bridge, which crosses the creek elsewhere, nearer the homestead. Three bridges have been washed away by floods in times past. It is a very dynamic landscape. Though the river's current never fails, the water passing, moment by moment, is never the same. Where the current pools, bubbles form on the surface, bursting and disappearing as others rise to replace them, none lasting long. In this world, people and their dwelling places are like that, always changing. -- Chomei, Hojoki
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#InPlace 8Shade tree leans on hut; old woman, sad, makes cutsthen cables tree uphillfirewood she had not needed The tree began an imperceptibly slow but undeniable lean to the east, downhill, a path that would take it through the hut. Two feet thick and fifty feet tall, it presented a problem for the old woman. She considered whether to give up the hut, then elected to draw the tree uphill with wire rope and pulleys. Cutting the tree while it was under pressure from the cable presented its own set of difficulties, as the tree could split and crash backward into the building. By cutting most of the way through the stump and then cranking and resetting the tension many times, she eventually brought the tree within reach of a pole saw. Daylight where shade had been -- she'd foolishly counted on that shade for the hot summers. Across the valleyI hear the sounds of trees being felled -- Ryokan (tr. Abé and Haskel)#impermanence
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#InPlace 9She lays carpeting; an old brass bowlwill teach by singing— it tells hershe may stop thinking, or mayeven stop stopping thinking In 2013 the old woman experienced a crisis of gloom over perceived diminishing likelihood that most species, including humankind, could survive the oncoming exponential increase of environmental degradation. A friend advised her to take up some form of meditation. Having been a "book Buddhist" off and on for decades, she joined a Soto Zen Buddhist sangha. She had known her teacher decades before, when her teacher was a farm housewife. They seem to be a good fit in these new roles. The hut was now repurposed as a zendo (meditation hall) of sorts. “Stop thinking, or even stop stopping thinking” is a reference to Eihei Dogen’s "Fukanzazengi." Think of not thinking, ‘Not thinking —what kind of thinking is that?’ Nonthinking. This is the essential art of zazen. — Dogen (tr. Tanahashi)
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#InPlace 10Books, lamp, her mother's desk,a small cot from which, lying down,she may observe trilling leavesof spring and fall cottonwoods Most of her books are studies of women in Buddhism and some books by Eihei Dogen, Hongzhi, Shunryu Suzuki, Kosho Uchiyama, Ryokan, Red Pine, Shiwu (Stonehouse) and Han Shan (Cold Mountain), along with several collections of Chinese poetry translated by Kenneth Rexroth. The collection changes as the old woman's studies change. From the cot there is an especially intriguing view of young cottonwood and ash trees just across the small creek. In my hut, I listen to the evening rainand stretch my legs without a care in the world.-- Ryokan (tr. Abé and Haskel)
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#InPlace 11By her door she sets a young friend,monkish, said to representone who vowed to watch overmad old wet hens and others This is Kshitigarbha, called in Japanese Jizo. He is said to take an interest in those who obviously need watching over, such as old fools. Does he? Maybe so:...ontologically everything is interdependent and empty of independent existence. Dōgen pushes this logic to assert that “All beings are Buddhanature.” This deliberate reconfiguration of the Nirvana Sūtra teaching that “All sentient beings have Buddha-nature” highlights Dōgen’s more thoroughgoing nondualistic understanding, for Dōgen’s articulation does not distinguish between sentient and nonsentient beings nor does it allow for some beings to have Buddha-nature and others not. Buddha-nature is not an object one can have, in the same way one cannot have a dog or a self, for everything is empty of independent existence.Paula Arai, "The Zen of Rags" -- in which she muses on cleaning-rags as Buddhas ...
(DIR) Post #B7oTAXxT5kwDqMSWkS by shonin@c.im
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#InPlace 12A friend donates chairs; with these,two to four may sit thinking no thoughtsor thinking of thinking no thoughtswhile gazing at knotty cedar Four folding chairs came with someone’s spare card table. It’s encouraging how many useful things one can tuck into an eight by ten shed and not feel that it is cluttered. The first thing is to learn how to quiet the mind, relax the mind, and bring the awareness to the front so that we are conscious of what we're doing when we're doing it without all the commentary. -- Tenzin Palmo
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#InPlace 13The old woman finds a bench difficult,more so every day; one last sitbefore she gives it up —tap bell, groan, rise —lotus, half lotus? Ha! When she first began sitting at the hut, use of the seiza or kneeling bench was easy for the old woman; but it became increasingly painful for her; here we see it being used for the last time (2015?) and it has since been replaced by a chair. All things come to an end, as will the use of the hut, as will this old woman’s life. The book on the floor is an edition of some of Ryokan’s poetry. Falling blossoms.Blossoms in bloom are alsofalling blossoms. — Ryokan (tr. Tanahashi)
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#InPlace 14Half householder, she lives herepart time, and so makes tea and riceas needed, washing dishes outdoors:pantry is under the bed In use for more than a decade, her old steamer can cook many things, but is most in demand for rice (pre-seasoned with home-grown dried herbs, kept in a Mason jar underneath the altar) and vegetables (mostly beets, potatoes, kale, chard and zucchini, in season). The little coffeemaker is used to make what the old woman calls “yard” tea — seasonally available forage such as (deep breath) chicory, dandelions, nipplewort, narrow leaf plantain, crimson clover, deadnettle, cat’s ears, blackberry leaves, fir or spruce needles, money plant, Bigleaf maple flowers, and crop foliage such as kale, chard, beet greens, squash blossoms and leaves, pea and bean foliage, corn silk, and the like. There are two bowls that also serve as cups, a few utensils, a knife, and a cutting board. Water is brought from the homestead's well in half gallon bottles. Do not arouse disdainful mind when you prepare a broth of wild grasses; do not arouse joyful mind when you prepare a fine cream soup. Where there is no discrimination, how can there be distaste? — Dogen (tr. Tanahashi)
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#InPlace 15Rain comes, fogs settle in;her ceiling does drip a little;path grows muddy; to keep her footingshe throws flat stones in low spots In summer she gathers stones — basalt, mostly — from the dry creek bed and stores them for winter projects.With the shade tree gone, the roof has been painted white; walls will be painted soon. It won't be as attractive as when the building was red, but Gogo-an would be too hot in the summer without its tree.The fence is to keep deer (or potentially sheep) out of the small garden. I always wanted to go to East Cliff,more years than I can remember, until todayI just grabbed a vine and started up.Halfway up wind and a heavy mist closed in,and the narrow path tugged at my shirt:it was hard to get on. The slickerymud under the moss on the rocksgave way, and I couldn’t keep going.So here I stay, under this cinnamon tree,white clouds for my pillow,I’ll just take a nap.— Han Shan (Cold Mountain, tr. Seaton )
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#InPlace 16Preparing for a lack of shade,the old woman dabs white paintat the roof and rough-sawn wallsold wire fence makes an enclosure Good paint is available at low prices (in five gallon cans) from the local recycler. The old woman has welded-wire fencing and tee posts left over from decades of farm projects. To build a little compound for the hut and its “raised” beds, she wraps fencing around a corner of the pasture. She gives the wire fencing a “rustic” look by inserting hazel prunings in the fencing vertically to a height above six feet. This is more practical than it looks, as it reduces the likelihood of the vegetables being grazed by deer. They are lovely to watch, but perhaps less so when they are partaking of one's kale. Sitting, I meditate on emptinessas fresh breezes fill the temple.Words are inherently empty and yetstill I am fond of brush and ink.My mind like ashes after the fire and yetstill I am tied to the world.-- Miaohui (Grant, Daughters of Emptiness 121)
(DIR) Post #B89MrwlsrKIA9ZD5uq by shonin@c.im
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#InPlace 17The old woman has founda young friend, molded from ashesgathered from the slopes of a volcano;he points to the earth, his witness This Buddha statue is of the historic Shakyamuni (Gautama Buddha) and recalls the occasion of his great enlightenment. Pressed by Mara, the king of the delusion demons, to prove his enlightenment, he points to the earth and calls it to witness. Acquired from a merchant somewhere, somewhen, she found his rough vagueness of appearance answered to her own vagueness of aspiration and effort, while his uncompromising posture and gesture provided her with a "way in." Q: What is the Way and how must it be followed?A: What sort of THING do you suppose the Way to be, that you should wish to FOLLOW it?-- Zen Teaching of Huang-Po 52 (tr. Blofeld)
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#InPlace 18For study of old books,soft light of rainy daysis good; the volcanic young manhelps with her homework The hut is not off-grid; this is thanks to a long heavy-duty drop cord. The old woman has her steamer, tea maker, small heater, and a lamp. Much of her study consists in seeking out connections between talk of "enlightenment" and talk of the "precepts." For years her question has been: what does understanding reality necessarily have to do with compassion? Buddhas don't keep precepts. And buddhas don't break precepts. -- attr. Bodhidharma (tr. Red Pine)
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#InPlace 19Through her south windowshe may watch the neighbors' herdof bison; they gaze in as wellshe counts them friends The neighbor's bison, she’s told, are really "beefalo." They are very impressive. The obvious equality of these beings with the old woman might be a clue to her question's answer. If you are not caught up in the rules and ranks, there is no seeking.-- Chao-Chou in Loori, The Heart of Being 51-52.
(DIR) Post #B89MrxZrrUH4eab0pE by shonin@c.im
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#InPlace 20Mornings she repeats ancient textsabjuring illusion, anger, fear;speaks the names offriends and others, ill or passed Trying on Buddhism for size. Morning service at "Gogo-an" consists of Robe Chant, zazen, Heart Sutra, nine bows, Dedications (reading of the current Memorial List, reading of the current Well-Being List), Bodhisattva Vows, Refuges, six days a week. One can see from all the capitalization that there is certainly some risk of pietism, which she guards against warily. Heart Sutra is supposed to be chanted, but she’s not good at this and just reads it aloud. Beings are numberless; I vow to free them.Delusions are inexhaustible; I vow to end them.Dharma gates are boundless; I vow to enter them.Buddha’s way is unsurpassable; I vow to attain it.-- Bodhisattva Vows
(DIR) Post #B89Mrxnh25KjLT43NI by shonin@c.im
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#InPlace 21The carpet comes in handyfor nine bows; with handsuplifted, old woman pauses,thoughtlessly thoughtful of all These bows are supposed to be prostrations from standing, but the old woman’s back and legs are beginning to fail her, so she now uses the railing of the cot as a grab bar to get to her knees and does her bows from there. This is sometimes accompanied by the grunts and groans of the elderly. ...we should know why we do prostrations. We do not do them to endear ourselves to somebody else. We do not do them for the Buddha. Such concepts are completely wrong. The Buddha is not a god of this world. We bow down to purify all situations from the past where we did not respect others.-- Lama Gendyn Rinpoche
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#InPlace 22A quiet fellow waits outmorning service, anxiousfor his daily walk alonggreen country ways, reading sign Shown here at age seventeen, this cairn terrier is mostly blind and deaf, but can find warm sunny spots and lives by scent. The old woman thinks of their walks as a kind of kinhin, or walking meditation. On either side of the footpath rises a row of green pines.Over the valley, the scent of a wild plum is wafted to me.Each visit to this place yields me a fresh spiritual gain.-- Ryokan (tr. Nobuyuki Yuasa, The Zen Poems of Ryokan 57)
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#InPlace 23Spring advances, sun returns;grey skies give wayto flocks of round clouds;worms, birds and mice are busy View toward East Gate, in late May.A mother mouse tunneled into the old woman’s mattress to give birth. Mrs. Mouse and her brood died one spring day as the old woman lay down for a nap. The old woman mourned more than she would have expected. Were it not for the suffering of sentient beings, no need for compassion would arise. -- John Daido Loori in The True Dharma Eye: Zen Master Dogen's Three Hundred Koans xxxii)
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#InPlace 24Ritual averse, yet she has such:brewing tea of blackberry leaves,chard, kale, squash leaves, maple blooms; pour, settle, sip, sit "Yard tea" steeping. Such tisanes are best dried and crumbled and then sealed away from air, 'tis true, but simply gathering the herbs and foliage and steeping them fresh works well enough for the purpose. The Way does not have any particular form that can be cultivated. the Dharma does not have any particular form that can be validated. Just unrestricted no-recollection and no-thought, at all times everything is the Way.— Wuzhu, Lidai fabao ji in The Teachings of Master Wuzhu 141 (Adamek)
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#InPlace 25Through the reed shade,watch leaves fall in autumn,branches rattle in winter, foliagetremble in spring or droop in summer Watching is part of her tea "ritual" in all seasons. In spring, cherry blossoms.In summer the cuckoo.In autumn the moon.In winter the snow, clear, cold.— Dogen (after Tanahashi)
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#InPlace 26Dark of the year, altar lacksflowers: a moss covered oak branchmakes do; in springshe finds a spray of quince Flowering quince goes well with the red altar cloth and bowls, so she enjoys the three weeks or so that the blossoms may be available. Still, every offering is quite right. One day Daowu and Yunyan were out walking with Yaoshan, who pointed at two trees with his finger. One was healthy and the other was withered up. He asked Daowu, "Which is better, the withered tree or the healthy tree?" Daowu answered, "The healthy one is better." Yaoshan said, "So everything around it becomes bright and colorful." Then he asked Yunyan the same question. Yunyan said, "The withered tree is better." Yaoshan said, "So everything around it looks gray and withered up." An attendant named Gao appeared suddenly. Yaoshan asked him the same question. Gao said, "The withered one is withered and the healthy one is healthy." Yaoshan turned to Daowu and Yunyan and said, "You were both wrong."-- Soto Zen Ancestors in China, James Mitchell, 62
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#InPlace 27Winds from river by daywinds from mountains at nightsing to cottonwood branches:cottonwood branches clack back Though the old woman has a cot in the hut and naps there often, she has seldom slept in it overnight. But she does lie long abed in the afternoons, attending the rustling leaves or rattling twigs. The dharma does not rise up alone—it can’t emerge without reliance on the world. If I take up the challenge of speaking I must surely borrow the light and the dark, the form and the emptiness of the mountains and hills and the great earth, the call of the magpies and the cries of the crows. The water flows and the flowers blossom, brilliantly preaching without ceasing. In this way there is no restraint.— Ziyong Chengru in The Hidden Lamp: Stories from Twenty-Five Centuries of Awakened Women, Caplow and Moon, 241
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#InPlace 28The young-old monk, watcherover infants and mad crones,gets a late spring offering —handful of vinca blossoms Jizo once greeted visitors to the homestead, but lost his head more than once as water hoses were hauled around the garden. In his new location at the hut he is a hermit, but has never left off his practice. The stone behind him was raised from the dry creek bed the preceding summer. Firmly based on steadiness, it can't be surpassed.A shining window below the green pines --jade palaces or vermilion towers can't compare with it.-- Shitou, "Song of the Grass-Roof Hut" in Taishō shinshū daizōkyō (1924-33) reprinted in Hongzhi, Cultivating the Empty Field, 2000, tr. Leighton and Yi Wu
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#InPlace 29 From the end of this pastureshe looks back: if there weresuddenly no hut, there would still begrass, trees, stones and stream Pasture with the little dog, late May. Everything here is exactly as it is. The body and mind of the Buddha way is grass, trees, tiles and pebbles, as well as wind, rain, water and fire. — Dogen (tr. Tanahashi)
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#InPlace 30Everything within reach,including broom:spring cleaning quickly donein a room eight by ten "Allow no dust to cling." Plenty of dust remains after nearsighted Old Woman sweeps.When she wants to read a book, she extends her arm; when she wants tea, she extends her arm. Pretentiousness? Contrivance? Of course! But the genuine is never absent; it's up to her to notice. Sweeping away mist and clouds, the purity of the universe is revealed, As, together with the wooden man, we all enjoy a spring of great peace. -- Zukui Jifu in Eminent Nuns, 144 (Beata Grant)
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#InPlace 31She loves to hear rainon leaves, on grass and stones;when rain falls on desk and booksshe does roof work The hut, built from scraps, is approaching the end of its third decade and maintenance is on the increase. She muses that rain and work are both excellent ways to observe the universal as the particular and vice versa. Not engaging in extensive deliberation,When sowing the fields you must work diligently.-- Dogen, Eihei Koroku 445 (tr. Leighton and Okamura)
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#InPlace 32In a snow year, break trailto brew tea and read, or make nine bows as incense drifts toward drafty walls A hat, gloves and coat make a fine robe for morning service. One who is drinking water knows well enough if it is cold or warm.-- Huang Po (after Blofeld, tr.)
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#InPlace 33 Snow seals heat within;she steams white rice,tea and veg to have withscenes of falling white The snow helps dampen road noise from nearby civilization. She sits, then gets up to muck about. Before long, thoughts creep in that leave her feeling defeated. "If in sitting one finds no distinctions, where do all these distinctions come from to crowd in as soon as I rise to pour tea?" Snow besieges my plank door I crowd the stove at nightalthough this form exists it seems as if it doesn'tI have no idea where the months have goneevery time I turn around another year on earth is over-- Han-Shan Te-Ching (tr. Red Pine)
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#InPlace 34The waterfall that runs in Autumnruns, fills hut with white noise;to air dark corners, old womanslides a window open -- bang! The waterfall’s music begins usually in late October or early November and in late May or early June it stops; though in 1993 it ran all year. So many years spent idly contemplatingThe immense white layer on the mountains;This winter, all of a sudden,I see it for the first time as a snow-mountain.-- Dogen (tr. Stephen Heine)