Sunday, December 2, 2012

The Long Boat

When his boat snapped loose
from its mooring, under
the creaking gulls,
he tried at first to wave 
to his dear ones on shore,
but in the rolling fog
they had already lost their faces.
Too tired even to choose
between jumping and calling,
somehow he felt absolved and free
of his burdens, those mottoes
stamped on his name-tag:
conscience, ambition, and all
that caring.

He was content to lie down
with the family ghosts
in the slop of his cradle,
buffeted by the storm,
endlessly drifting.
Peace! peace!
To be rocked by the infinite!
As if it didn't matter
which way was home;
as if he didn't know
he loved the earth so much
he wanted to stay forever.

Stanley Kunitz

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Defeat

"It's just a matter of doing what you want to do : not one man in a thousand is doing what he wants to do. My defeat will be my victory."

Hank Chinaski

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Don't Try

“If you're going to try, go all the way. Otherwise, don't even start. This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives and maybe even your mind. It could mean not eating for three or four days. It could mean freezing on a park bench. It could mean jail. It could mean derision. It could mean mockery--isolation. Isolation is the gift. All the others are a test of your endurance, of how much you really want to do it. And, you'll do it, despite rejection and the worst odds. And it will be better than anything else you can imagine. If you're going to try, go all the way. There is no other feeling like that. You will be alone with the gods, and the nights will flame with fire. You will ride life straight to perfect laughter. It's the only good fight there is.” 

Hank Chinaski

Saturday, November 3, 2012

The Arrow of Time

"Time flies faster than an arrow; life is more transient than the dew. No matter how skillful you may be, it is impossible to bring back even a single day of the past. To have lived to be a hundred years old to no purpose is to eat the bitter fruit of time, to become a pitiable bag of bones. Even though you have allowed yourself to be a slave to your senses for a hundred years, if you give yourself over to Buddhist training for even one day, you will gain a hundred years of life in this world as well as in the next."
Dogen




Monday, October 29, 2012

Delta Blues

"It's mostly like I was when I started, just for somebody to show me. I didn't have nobody to show me. I bought an old guitar from another guy for $1.50. Old piece of guitar. But I didn't know the difference too much. I just knowed it was supposed to be a guitar. And I got this boy Willie Wilson to tune it up for me. And so that's the way I started myself. None of them showed me nothing but I just got the sound in my head and I'd just hit on round on it till I found the sound I just like myself."
Son House




"This time I wisely shied away from organized music theory. Sounds from my head found their way to the guitar. I concentrated on playing and not learning about sharps, flats, time signatures, key changes, and chord structures. I didn't want to be cramped by words."
Stefan Grossman


Friday, October 19, 2012

Triumph

"The birth of a man is the birth of his sorrow. The longer he lives, the more stupid he becomes, because his anxiety to avoid unavoidable death becomes more and more acute. What bitterness! He lives for what is always out of reach! His thirst for survival in the future makes him incapable of living in the present."
Chuang Tzu


The Way Home III


"The teachings reveal to us the possibility of an astounding and finally boundless freedom, which is ours to work for now, in life - the freedom that will enable us to choose our death and so to choose our birth. For someone who has prepared and practiced, death comes not as a defeat but as a triumph, the crowning and most glorious moment of life."
Sogyal Rinpoche



The Way Home IV

Sunday, October 7, 2012

Chanting the Way - Dedication and Discipline, Round 2

"The thought of this completely thrilled him. It was like discovering a cancer cure. No more explanations of what art is. No more wonderful critical schools of experts to determine rationally where each composer had succeeded or failed. All of them, every last one of those know-it-alls, would finally have to shut up. This was no longer just an interesting idea. This was a dream."
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance


The Way Home II


I believe now is the time to return to my meditation studies, so I have been practicing in my studio, at the Garfield Street Zendo, and today, at the 40th Street Buddhist Institute. 

I stopped in at the Zendo for Sunday meditation, which is at the late hour of 9:30am. 

At 1:00pm I began my walk to the Institute and when I arrived I was greeted by a practitioner.  He explained what they would be doing from 2:00pm-4:00pm. The Institute is home to Tibetan Buddhism, which involves chanting, and the practitioner explained I was not required to chant. 

I took my seat inside the hall, along with seven others, and was given two prayer books. The time passed quickly, and I enjoyed the small amount of chanting I did. 

When the service ended I was asked to stay for a drink and meal. I took my seat and listened to the group discuss various topics. 

A bottle of wine was served and I found it curious that the group could flow into conversation immediately following the two hour meditation. 

I hope to attend the 5:00am meditation tomorrow at the Zendo.

Friday, October 5, 2012

Reflected

The Way Home

I am settling into my new life in Eugene. 

I have goals which keep me busy morning, noon, and night. 

I meditate at the Eugene Zendo. Wednesday I woke at 4:30am and walked a mile to the Zendo for 5:00am zazen. 

In the afternoon I was fatigued and fell asleep in a chair while reading. 

I skipped Thursday's zazen but awoke today at 4:15am and meditated ninety minutes. The session ends at 6:30am, sunrise, so the walk home can be enchanting. I brought my camera and made a few pictures. The morning was cold and my feet went numb. 

When I returned home I took a hot shower and ate a breakfast of sushi, yogurt, and tea. 

I have been spending my afternoons walking, running, and exercising. This week my energy has been low.

In the evenings I read and play guitar. 

Monday, October 1, 2012

The Absurdity of Walking Alone

"The truth cannot be contained by any word whatsoever. The truth can only be experienced. The truth can be lived, but there is no way to say it."  Osho


Stepping outside the door, I find a gift at my feet


My first day in the studio elicits emotions of excitement, wonder, and nostalgia for Chiang Mai, Urbana, and Chicago.  

I am still without a key because the hardware clerk cut it wrong, so I live as if in Portland, leaving the door unlocked and wrapping positive thoughts upon the house. 

On the walk to the hardware store I used a bucolic route which leads to Woodfield Plaza (Market of Choice/Sunrise Asian Grocery).


Lawrence Alley 


I am solitary again. Having stepped onto the ledge of otherness, it is a relief to return to the quiet safety of self.


Saturday, September 29, 2012

Flowing into Dreams

I recently looked at an apartment which I did not have much hope for.  The house is on 23rd, which is two miles west of where I am currently living (also on 23rd). 

When arriving I was uncertain which house I was looking for, and was surprised to discover how beautiful it is. When I entered the studio I experienced positive feelings and knew I could be happy living in it.  

I completed an application, and within a few days was informed I had been approved to sign a lease. 

I move in this Monday, Oct, 1, 2012. 

I stopped there today to move things into the studio. Later in the day I realized I had lost the key to the studio due to a hole in my pocket. 


































Saturday, September 15, 2012

Zen, Motorcycles, Guitars

"I feel happy to be here, and still a little sad to be here too. Sometimes it's a little better to travel than to arrive."
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance




I am having difficulties finding an apartment. I hope to rent a furnished unit, which will allow for easy migration if I have a desire to travel.  I am open to renting a room, but with just one housemate, as my experience in Portland (renting a room from Morgan) shows I can adapt. 

* * * * * * * * *

Yesterday I ran the Amazon Trail to Spencer Mountain. I loped along the flats and then plodded the switchbacks, looking forward to lunching on the summit.

On the way down I passed five hikers at a crossroads and took a wrong turn, which brought me to Willamette Road.  I ran the shoulder and passed Welcome to Eugene pop. 157,00. 

* * * * * * * * *

I bought Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance two weeks ago at Tsunami Books. I first heard of it during my first year at NIU, in 1987.  I was night walking with a guy I met at the philosophy club and he recommended the book. I took a copy from the library but did not read it (I read no literature during my time at NIU). 

Today as I lounged in the backyard, bathed in the blue afternoon shade of an ornamental tree, I began to read chapter 10 :

"Phaedrus didn't understand this, but after arriving in Seattle, and his discharge from the army, he sat in his hotel room for two whole weeks, eating enormous Washington apples, and thinking, and eating more apples, and thinking some more, and then as a result of all these fragments, and thinking, returned to the University to study philosophy."

* * * * * * * * *

I blew the amp out the first time I plugged in upon returning from Portland. I placed a want ad and a typical Eugene character rides his bike forty minutes to the house, carrying the amp under his arm. The "chan vol" knob is missing and one of the FX knobs is broken, even so I bought it for $65. 

I have been working with the guitar for almost three years.  

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Decision : Eugene

"There's no record of his having had close friends. He traveled alone. Always. Even in the presence of others he was completely alone. People sometimes felt this and felt rejected by it, and so did not like him, but their dislike was not important to him."
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance










Yesterday was a running day.

The time had come for deciding where to put down roots. 

As I loped along I sensed my athletic energy being replaced by the desire to walk. 

Not wanting to run long, I decided on intervals. I circled the soccer fields at the middle school, stopping after five minutes. I felt I should do more, so jogged to Amazon Park and was determined to run 1000m loops. The first loop I stopped after 800m, 500m for the second.

I knew it was a weak effort.

I began walking the Rexius Trail, grateful for the solitude. The sun was bright and warm. I sauntered along, searching facts, memories, voices. 

I will remain in Eugene. 

I need to find a place to live. 

I am currently renting a room, but wish to live alone.

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Portland Peculiarium

























My final days in Portland.

I will remember running three hours on the Wildwood Trail in Forest Park; wandering the streets of NW Portland, camera in hand; the people; watching swifts darken the sky as they rapidly descend the Chapman School chimney, a full moon rising.

I will be returning to a household of four in Eugene (KC, her son, his friend, and myself). 

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Watermelon Seeds



Tomorrow I am moving to the NW side of Portland, staying with a friend of KC's. 

On the 1st KC will pass through Portland and give me a ride back to Eugene. 

The adventure rolls on.

#6 SW


The past four days I have hiked and run the #6 SW. I pass through interesting neighborhoods and stop when reaching downtown. Ten miles of hills and beauty, dream-like in its weirdness.