Crossing Nebraska

  Can we find lasting peace all by ourselves? Can we be like the earliest Buddhist disciples and retreat into the forest or into our own carefully constructed corners of the world and find the unconditioned peace that we crave? My response to that question is a provisional one: “yes, and…” Yes, and the world has a way of finding us. We arise from it, so this should really come as no surprise. Whatever is happening “out there” will have an impact on our ability to find peace “in here.” Thus, we must cultivate a healthy relationship with the so-called outside world. Power, Practice, and Peace logo background On December 4, 2024, United Healthcare’s CEO was walking from his Manhattan hotel to a shareholder meeting just down the street when he was shot dead by a gunman lying in wait. It appears the killer was motivated by a hatred of corporate greed, and the fact that UnitedHealthcare “dismissed about one in every three claims in 2023…. twice the industry average of 16% ” may have fo...

  This blog within a blog focuses on power; and how can we talk about power without considering the most awesome power of all—that which Nature unleashes. Even the strongest are rendered impotent in the face of its fury. Even the most arrogant are humbled by its power. So, when Taoists speak reverently of the Way—the natural order of things—and strive to live in accord with its workings, they must have something more subtle and nurturing in mind. Certainly, we don’t want to emulate Nature’s violence and indifference to its victims. But what lessons are we to uncover from our observance of its way? Orange lichens growing on felled tree Some years ago, one of my Zen practitioner friends was troubled by a situation in her life. She visited with her teacher, hoping that he might impart some wisdom that would guide her. Unfortunately, she left feeling dejected. “He told me to go outside and look at the morning glories,” she said. Indeed, Nature is a wonderful teacher, but sometimes we...

In a previous post, The Fundamental Nature of Power , I used our leaf blower as a simple example of the inherently dangerous and potentially violent nature of power . But those are not its only negative aspects. Power has a seductive and addictive nature as well. It lures us into wielding it with the promise that we can be more and more and have more and more. Then, after getting used to our new way of being, we’re loathe to give up the power that allows us to be that way. For instance, once I learned how to start the big leaf blower and keep it from doing most of the damage it’s capable of, I began to rely on it. Back when I only had a rake for getting the job done, I’d stay on top of the task as the leaves fell. With the big machine on hand, though, I can let the leaves pile up for weeks knowing that I have the power at hand to complete the task in short order. No, it’s not a quiet and meditative communion with nature, in tune with the natural order of things. It’s loud and annoying,...

In the natural world, all living things are content with the power they are born with. The tree grows just large enough and converts just enough sunlight into usable energy that it might produce its seed and fulfill its reproductive calling. The squirrel possesses only what power it needs to gather its winter store and evade its most likely predators. The lion is endowed with just what power she needs to hunt the prey that will satisfy the immediate hunger of her and her cubs. In some species there are battles for exclusive reproductive rights within a herd or group. But whatever contest might be won is simply the outcome of what is. Those vying for such status are not off in the forest running laps and lifting stones in preparation for the big day. They fight, or they don’t. They prevail, or they don’t.  We humans, however, have lost track of what is enough. Having lost track of what is enough, our usual inclination is to want more and more, to want to be more and more. Simply sur...

As we were looking for a new home some years ago, we instantly became enamored of this established neighborhood with ample space between houses and an abundance of huge and beautiful trees. Sure, there’d be lots of leaves to rake, but the previous owners sweetened the deal with a monstrously powerful leaf blower they’d no longer need. We were sold! I didn’t actually use the big machine that first autumn. Leaves were already falling by the time I arrived, and I think I recall having some difficulty getting it started. Perhaps a little bit of my Zen sensibility about raking leaves the old fashioned way still held sway as well. Raking is good work—meditative and therapeutic! But the leaves just kept falling and falling and falling, and the list of other things in need of doing just kept growing. The Big Machine Now, if we were deeper in the woods, we’d likely eschew lawn maintenance altogether. We’d let the leaves pile up to become nesting places for animals and rich detritus for mushro...

The election is over. The people have spoken. Some, no doubt, are joyously celebrating the result, perhaps even praising God. Many, however, see a dark cloud hanging over our nation. An undeniable shift in the body politic has taken place—a shift that has many grieving profoundly what has been lost and deeply anxious for what may yet be lost. Count me amongst the latter. If I seem more composed than some others, it’s simply because I’ve done a fair amount of preparatory grieving already. No, I did not see what was coming. It’s just that I’m Buddhist, and Buddhists value equanimity. I knew that I wanted (needed?) to wake up after the declaration of the winner of this election and get on with living, regardless of the result. This image will signify posts in the Power, Practice, and Peace series Which is not to say that I don’t know what it feels like for those who are deeply grieving right now. I was and am horrified that women’s bodily autonomy has been stripped away—at great risk...

  Welcome to a blog within a blog! I first began writing Power, Practice, and Peace under a pseudonym while completing my first book. I published a number of pieces back then, but the project stalled as the publication of That Which We Already Know came to fruition. A recent review of those writings motivates me to now resurrect them and build on their foundation. Thus, look for Power, Practice, and Peace posts popping up here from time to time. I'll keep a running compilation of posts here . Perhaps I’ll also make them stand out by marking them with the following image—adapted from the banner image of that erstwhile pseudonymous blog. This image will signify posts in the Power, Practice, and Peace series   What is power? Is it something we have or lack? Do we enjoy it or fear it? How do various power differentials and dynamics play out in our personal and professional lives, our communities, our spiritual practices and sexual relations? How do they play out in the way we ...

  It has been a season of many losses within my family and circle of friends, bringing life and death to the forefront of my mind. Life and death is something of a koan that each of us must resolve—the Great Matter that I spoke of in a recent post. Dogen’s Shoji ( Life and Death ), on the other hand, is a koan in the more traditional and literal sense. It is one short fascicle of a larger work, the Shobogenzo , composed sometime in the first half of the 13 th Century by Eihei Dogen, preeminent teacher within the Soto Zen tradition. Sunset with silhouette of trees Dogen begins Shoji with a quote from another Zen teacher: “Because in life and death there is buddha, there is no life and death” (Nishijima and Cross, 2009, p. 299). This first sentence may well be a koan unto itself—a koan within a koan, if you will. What does it mean? Perhaps we can gain a toehold by thinking of Buddha as ultimate reality beyond all so-called separate things. Thus, when we recognize Buddha in life a...

Our family lost its matriarch this past April. Darlene was an incredibly accomplished professional woman—having traveled the world as part of a wife and husband ministerial team. She was retired by the time I got to know her, though, and most people in our circle simply referred to her as Mom or Granny. Darlene holding one of our newest family members. Having married into the clan somewhat late in life, and with my biological mother still alive, I never quite felt comfortable calling her Mom. Instead, I settled into calling her Darlene. Regardless of what I called her, though, as my birth mother slowly faded away into the haze of dementia, Darlene was there for me as the perfect mother-in-law. But there were times when I felt like an imperfect son-in-law. You see, Darlene poured out more love than I was able to accept. She knew I loved plants and gardening, for instance, and she just kept them coming. Even after we got young cats that made keeping houseplants nearly impossible, the...

Occasional days of warmth and sun and new growth peeking from the earth have blessed us, yet winter’s gray embrace seems here to stay. So many people I’m close to are struggling mightily these days with loved ones dying, relationships crumbling, or serious illness descending full force upon them. It reminds me yet again of the howling reality that life can plunge us in an instant from the sunny heights of all is well into the icy depths of pain and bewilderment. Thus, even with spring right around the corner, I find myself revisiting what Zen Buddhists refer to as the Great Matter —the mystery that each of us must resolve regarding life and death. The first spring flowers this year If unresolved, the Great Matter follows close behind wherever grief may lead—darkening it, deepening it, and making it lonelier still. On the other hand, resolving the Great Matter provides context for our grief. Contextualized, our pain joins the chorus of loss’s universality rather than being an isolated...

Gosh, it’s been almost a year since I began this series of posts recounting some of my recent experiences of synchronicity. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at it having taken so long, though, given that I knew from the start this installment was coming and would require of me a fair bit of emotional heavy lifting. In fact, this post may well be the most personally revealing one I’ve ever written, dealing as it does with the dysfunction of my family of origin and the karma it has wrought. But to disregard such messy context would be to excise these synchronicities from everything that gives them power and meaning in the first place. Please bear with me then, as I share enough background information to allow you privy to my state of mind at the time of these events. You may read the first two installments here and here . Interior of Liverpool's Bombed-Out Church First of all, I must say that I’m a Zen Buddhist and not particularly invested in any theories about the afterlife, not...