Crossing Nebraska

It's been a tough season, and a tough year. The strain is beginning to show. People are doing what they need to do to stay alive, and well, and sane. And so am I. When I saw a tiny bird had died after flying into the window shortly after I arrived at work, I had to find meaning in it somehow. Otherwise I might have just broken down and cried, which actually wouldn't have been such a bad thing to do. So I wrote this poem. This little being has given something of its life energy that I might carry on. I hope it gives something of its life force to you as well. With A World On Fire With a world on fire or drenched beneath the onslaught of a hurricane, And an economy collapsing ’neath the greed of our so-called finest brains, With people shot dead on the streets for scaring lawmen with their skin, And old folks dying in lonely rooms without their loved ones ever coming in, With kids in cages on the border because their lives mean so much less than rules, And whistleblower

  “I have never said to my disciples that I am a true teacher. From the beginning I have said that the zazen each of us practices is the only true teacher.”   Kosho Uchiyama   But what about the Buddha himself? Was he not a true teacher in Uchiyama’s estimation? No doubt some would call it sacrilege to answer in the negative. There exists a story in which the Buddha’s entire sermon consists of him holding up a flower. One of his disciples, Mahakasyapa, is the only one who “gets it” – conveying his understanding with a smile. Many Buddhists believe that something passed from the Buddha to Mahakasyapa in that moment. But might it be that Mahakasyapa merely conveyed to the Buddha that his own zazen (seated meditation) had taught him what the Buddha had already realized? Perhaps the Buddha merely led Mahakasyapa to his own true teacher – his zazen – and Mahakasyapa proved to be a student worthy of its teaching.   Let’s get our heads out of the clouds for just a moment, though, and