Entry tags:
windy washday
more monks, of course. once again a real koan, although slightly adapted. for the rest of this sometime-silliness-House AU, click on the 'monastery au' tag...
It was a windy day in the mountains: there was snow on the breeze, Jing thought. It was probably best to get the wet clothing inside before it turned cold.
"Rou," he asked, "would you please help me with the washing? I'd like to get it inside, before it snows."
Rou was startled at Jing's politeness - after a month he had become accustomed to the brusque nature of his teacher - but nodded and set aside the materials he had been sorting for Guang.
"Do you think the wind is moving, or the clothes?" he asked Jing as they carefully took the robes down from the drying line.
Jing gave this a moment's thought. "I think the clothes are moving."
Rou shook his head in quiet determination. "I think the wind is moving."
"I think your minds are moving." Guang replied from his meditative pose on the balcony. "Although I am not sure about Rou. His mind is small and probably too sickly to do so."
It was a windy day in the mountains: there was snow on the breeze, Jing thought. It was probably best to get the wet clothing inside before it turned cold.
"Rou," he asked, "would you please help me with the washing? I'd like to get it inside, before it snows."
Rou was startled at Jing's politeness - after a month he had become accustomed to the brusque nature of his teacher - but nodded and set aside the materials he had been sorting for Guang.
"Do you think the wind is moving, or the clothes?" he asked Jing as they carefully took the robes down from the drying line.
Jing gave this a moment's thought. "I think the clothes are moving."
Rou shook his head in quiet determination. "I think the wind is moving."
"I think your minds are moving." Guang replied from his meditative pose on the balcony. "Although I am not sure about Rou. His mind is small and probably too sickly to do so."
Entry tags:
enlightenment of a sort (1/?)
The koan that Guang cites is actually a real koan. It seems very House-like in its sentiment.
There were several wealthy donors who wished to build a new wing on the monastery. They were very rich and well-respected community men that had been inspired toward spirituality by Guang's legendary intellect.
They wished to meet with the great monk, but he was nowhere to be found, and they became enraged. The abbott regretfully had to return their generous donation.
When Jing went to the scholar's rooms later, he found Guang sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor playing checkers with Rou. (Guang was winning, of course. Jing had suspicions that he frequently cheated at checkers, but had never caught him.)
"The abbott is most displeased." Jing stood with his hands on his hips in the doorway.
"I believe I heard something about that." Guang replied, his voice as bland as last week's rice gruel. "I saw him scraping and bowing to those wealthy donors."
"You saw him?"
"Of course. Rou is too much of an idiot to play checkers with the entire day, after all. He has no concept of strategy." Guang sighed deeply. "I am attempting to teach him better, but he is terribly slow at it."
"Why did you not say something?"
"I have become enlightened on this issue."
"How have you become enlightened on this issue?"
Guang's smile was crooked, and his blue eyes sparkled in the light of the candles. "The world is vast and wide: why do you put your clothes on at the sound of a bell?"
Jing raised his eyebrows.
Guang nodded firmly, once, and hopped one of his dark smooth pebbles over several of Rou's lighter ones. "Boy, you are indeed an idiot if you didn't see that coming. Set up the stones again. You need instruction in this."
There were several wealthy donors who wished to build a new wing on the monastery. They were very rich and well-respected community men that had been inspired toward spirituality by Guang's legendary intellect.
They wished to meet with the great monk, but he was nowhere to be found, and they became enraged. The abbott regretfully had to return their generous donation.
When Jing went to the scholar's rooms later, he found Guang sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor playing checkers with Rou. (Guang was winning, of course. Jing had suspicions that he frequently cheated at checkers, but had never caught him.)
"The abbott is most displeased." Jing stood with his hands on his hips in the doorway.
"I believe I heard something about that." Guang replied, his voice as bland as last week's rice gruel. "I saw him scraping and bowing to those wealthy donors."
"You saw him?"
"Of course. Rou is too much of an idiot to play checkers with the entire day, after all. He has no concept of strategy." Guang sighed deeply. "I am attempting to teach him better, but he is terribly slow at it."
"Why did you not say something?"
"I have become enlightened on this issue."
"How have you become enlightened on this issue?"
Guang's smile was crooked, and his blue eyes sparkled in the light of the candles. "The world is vast and wide: why do you put your clothes on at the sound of a bell?"
Jing raised his eyebrows.
Guang nodded firmly, once, and hopped one of his dark smooth pebbles over several of Rou's lighter ones. "Boy, you are indeed an idiot if you didn't see that coming. Set up the stones again. You need instruction in this."
Entry tags:
reason number eleventybillion why I love Buddhist monks
Okay, when we lived in Portland (Oregon - from 2003-2006) we lived around the corner from an honest to God (pun not intended) Buddhist monastery. To this day this is one of the main things I miss about that apartment: I loved being able to tell people 'turn right by the buddhist monastery' and I loved walking past to see the monks work. I learned the answer to some of life's vitally important questions, such as "how many monks can you fit in a minivan?" Seven, apparently.
I told you that story partly so I can comment on the major awesomeness of buddhist monks in general, (I think Pema Chodron is concentrated awesome and I want to be her if I decide to grow up) but partly also so I can share this link, which made me laugh a LOT.
I told you that story partly so I can comment on the major awesomeness of buddhist monks in general, (I think Pema Chodron is concentrated awesome and I want to be her if I decide to grow up) but partly also so I can share this link, which made me laugh a LOT.
Entry tags:
last night's daily dharma
Practice is twofold. The first part is training; the second is the act itself. And these are not two things; when you train, the act itself is happening; when you are the act itself, your training is deepened. Practice is to work "as if." The lawyer practices as if she or he were an attorney. The doctor practices as if she or he were a physician. Being and learning are one and the same. It is just as though you were trying to play the piano with Mozart's hands. At first such action "as if" is awkward, but with practice your music becomes your own best creation. In the same way, our zazen becomes your own best inspiration, and your interaction with others expresses the love which has been in your heart from the very beginning. (from Tricycle.)
So that's the trick. Just fake it until you make it, colloquially speaking.
Right then.
So that's the trick. Just fake it until you make it, colloquially speaking.
Right then.