Words are our Best Weapon Against the Lies of History (Truth in the Root of the Word).
I know. I just know you are not going to get this. But I should try to put it in a way where you will at least have a flicker. So here goes no-thing!
A couple of years ago I saw an unlikely pair master it, or at least on the verge of mastering it. Many made fun of their folly, and society painted an illusive picture of them. Me, I just thought they were funny, relaxed and natural. But what do I know, I also thought the person who wrote, Life is Just A Bowl of Cherries, was enlightened.
It brought to mind my favorite, dharma poem. The first time I heard it, the Fashi read it during a dharma lecture, and gave everyone copies. I put mine on top of the living room console, and whenever my girlfriend would visit I’d ask her to read it to me (as it was in Chinese). One day she asked me, “Andi, Do you think you can do this?” I told her, I don’t know, but I sure do like the poem.
Translated by disciple Sramanera Kuo Tao, from Vajra Bodhi Sea
One day, Han Shan said to She Te, “The world slanders me, cheats me, insults me, laughs at me, slights me, degrades me, deludes me, and hates me. What can I do?”
She Te answered, “Just endure it: yield a bit, follow and elude it, tolerate and respect it. Ignore it. See what happens after a few years.”
“How can you get anything by withdrawing like that,” said Han Shan. “What’s so special about staying out of trouble, anyway?”
She Te answered, “Once I read Maitreya Bodhisattva’s song, now listen while I sing it for you.
The old fool in tattered robes
Fills his stomach with plain rice;
Mending rags to keep his body warm,
He lets everything trace its own course.
If scolded, he simply says ‘good,’
If beaten, he falls over into sleep.
If someone spits in his face,
The old fool just lets it dry,
And saves his strength and energy,
Others are not provoked.
How can he lament losing the Way since
He has acquired, this Paramita, the jewel
In the wonderful.
The man may be weak, but the mind is not;
The man may be poor, but the Way is not.
He always handles the Way
With single-minded cultivation.
Others in the world cherish glory and splendor,
But he does not wait for them,
For fame and profit always empty.
His mind is without satisfaction or disgust
Because even mountains of gold
Cannot buy off impermanence.
Despite Tze Kung’s eloquence,
The Duke of Chou’s divining ability
Kung Ming’s wise plan,
Fan K’uei’s rescuing his lord from difficulty,
And Han Hsin’s superior efforts (for it was merely one sword which brought him death),
Which of these ancients and contemporaries
Lived for a thousand years?
This one becomes a hero, that one’s valor is stout,
But every year their appearances change,
Their temples turn to white.
A weave of days and months—
Time passing like arrows in flight—
Not long till the head droops
Upon the hands of illness, a dismal sigh…
They do not think themselves old.
Becoming ill they have not managed to cultivate;
If time did not impede, King Yama’s turn,
They would reform, but…
Their breath’s cut off and energy’s exhausted.
That old fool does not discuss
And doesn’t manage domestic affairs,
Or wrangle with you or me.
He does not act bravely, and
Chided, he does not speak.
Questioned, he is a mute.
He pays no heed if assaulted,
And be rolls over if pushed into filthy water
And does not fear people’s laughter.
He does not dress for appearances;
Although children may cry and howl,
He does not hear them.
Those fond of competing for fame and profit
Reap but a barren grave.
But look at those in the world
Who are versed in tastelessness:
They can persuade a ruler to turn his head.
Simply cultivate, become an elder and
With one knife cut off dualistic judgement;
Leap over the blazing pit of suffering
And you are fresh and pure.
When you enlighten to the principle of immortality
The days and months become your neighbors and companions.
The Art of No Such Thing
“I’m trying to be a lady…I think I’m going crazy”
“Shut-up, just Shut-up, Shut-up”
My Shifu, not that one. But the other Shifu. “Dolphins – Polar bears” and “Go means Go”, Shifu had a unique way about him.
After Temple we would put on our shoes, coat, and hat, and ready ourselves for the evening breeze after a two-hour practice. Shifu would put his shoes in his pockets, and place his folded hat, flat on top of his head. We would all look at him and say, as you would to a child “Oh Shifu, that’s not how you suppose to wear a hat.”
” I need preparation H, not for my butt, but for under my eyes.”
Ahhhhh. the insanity of it all.
“The Way is not difficult, so long as you don’t pick and choose”, Faith in Mind, https://domoregooddeeds.wordpress.com/2012/12/11/in-plain-sight-faith-in-mind/
LIFE IS JUST A BOWL OF CHERRIES (1931)
So live and laugh at it all.”