“What are you”?
“Where do you come from”?
“Do you meditate”?
“How long do you have to meditate for”?
Questions from a 13 year old while out shopping this afternoon, then came
“Is it hard being a monk”?
Thoughtful pause, “Well, being a monk means trying to be the best person you can be.
And that’s not easy for anybody”.
Long pause with thoughtful look.
“Now say thank you”, says mom.
Latter I gave him a wave, he waved back.
The answer came from one of the other monks I was out with. Good answer.
I nearly knocked a man off his bike in Union Square in downtown San Francisco, but that was nearly ten years ago now. To-day thankfully I was navigating not driving.
This afternoon a novice monk and I went on an expedition to Britex one of the worlds wonders, if you are at all interested in fabrics and buttons. I’d gone for a specific fabric in a specific colour and they didn’t have it. But we left the shop wiser knowing I’m looking for ‘poplin’ in teal, a blue/green colour. The people there are experts, the woman who attended on us was very certain about her fabrics too. Handling the sample I had she knew right away it was pure cotton, and ‘too green if you are matching to this thread’. And I thought I had a good eye for colour matching. We left the shop wiser and thirsty.
By the time I was at the top of the line at the coffee shop in Union Square the young novice had already booted up and found sites selling teal poplin! Such is the wonder of the free wireless service covering most of San Francisco. And the wonder of my new laptop that can be carried and connected with ease, anywhere there’s wireless. Or rather replacement laptop for the one lost on its way for repairs a year ago in England, and now carried to the US by a returning monk.
On leaving Union Square underground car park I felt sure we would be delayed since it was 5.00 p.m. Indeed I kinda hoped we would get stuck in traffic. I wanted to try and write a post using the wireless connection in the city. However in no time we were flying across the Bay Bridge catching sight of all sorts of wireless connections as we drove. The Bay Bridge has two, BB1 and BB2, both secured and presumably in place for the bridge workers.
But really the thing that got my attention on our way home were the two pairs of legs stuck out of the roof of a passing car…not real ones but real enough! There is the bizarre to be found where ever one is in this big wide world.
And PS: Mountain View near San Francisco which is Google’s home town went free and wireless, yesterday.
A elderly woman I know was on the telephone recently. Her nephew was asking if he could come and stay. “Sounds good to me” she said, “But I’d better check, I have some dementia you know”! Closer to 90 than 80 and, at the time, able to have some perspective on her condition. Over the past days that has changed.
The issue of Neurodegeneration is exercising the scientists around the world including Walter at Evolving Space. Thanks for the input and for whatever it is you do…and have done.
The merit of this posting is offered to the elderly woman mentioned above, and for her husband and extended family.
I’m not sure of the significance of the balloons tied to the wing mirror but the rest of the scene was all too obvious. ‘Press the button, push! push!, yes come on darling the button, press it’. But the infant, locked fast inside of the car played on, oblivious of the drama it was part of’. Presumably the toddler had been playing around pressing buttons on the dash and locked the car from the inside. ‘Push the button, PUSH IT!
I returned having completed shopping for lunch. The scene had not changed much. Although there were now windscreen shades to shield the child in the hot and airless car. It was still having a great time romping inside, secure in the knowledge that it’s parents were close by, waving. ‘Press the button’! ‘There’! Pointing. ‘There, THERE!
Soon the paramedic truck turned up. Looked like a fire truck. Four uniformed men, with no guns, stepped out. Surveying the scene one walked round the car checking to see if any of the doors were open! First go for the easy and obvious solution. As I drove away one of the men was consulting a manual, presumably to work out which slim jim to use with this model of car. The father looked worried yet resigned at the same time. I’d imagine it costs to have such a heavy duty call out. Four men and a fire truck sized truck all red with gleaming chrome.
One little family drama playing itself out under the public gaze. And left with the question, “How did that infant find itself alone in the car”. It could hardly have been left there on purpose, roaming free and unrestrained. And, “What kind of car security has a lock on the inside of the car”?
I wonder if we are not like the child, innocently playing while wiser discernment is trying to get our attention.
In our tradition we have very clear teaching from Zen Master Dogen around food. In every aspect from buying it, preparation, cooking and eating the mind of non discrimination towards food, of not being picky and choosy, is held uppermost. Living within a monastery one is saved from needing to choose what to eat since that is all dealt with by the chief cook. He or she, under the guidance of the Abbot, decides what is eaten at each meal. Of course there is plenty of room left for being mentally picky and choosy while eating, however what one eats is not a choice.
Living as a lone Prior these past couple of years my meals evolved into being more or less the same for breakfast, lunch and medicine meal. I guess I defaulted to a combination of what I like to eat and what takes the least amount of time to prepare. The priors life is a busy one with little time to spend on cooking for oneself or deciding a varied menu. In this way shopping was simple, preparation straight forward and picky/choosy problems side stepped. Now while traveling, and eating out especially, the issue of personally choosing what to eat from a menu brings up the picky/choosy issue. When I’m asked what I like to eat my standard answer is, “I eat anything (vegetarian)”. And that is true.
When faced with a menu this lunch time making a choice was not easy. “What would you like to eat”? “Err, it all looks good to me!” The great variety of choice can be overwhelming. Yes that, and then there is a fine line between choosing and being choosy and picking a dish from the menu and being picky. All a matter of right attitude of mind of course.
*From ‘That which is Engraved Upon the Heart That Trusts to the Eternal’
(Kanshi Sosan, 30th Ancestor), Buddhist Writings, Copyright Shasta Abbey Press