RSS Feed

Daily Archives: June 12, 2014

Hope (A Zen Perspective)

Mindfulness is being present in the given moment. Parker Palmer speaks about fidelity and faith as being linked together. The faith we have is not that we follow a predetermined, linear path where hope lives. Rather it is a speculative hope and faith born from deep faith that each moment is transient and what exists in each moment comes and go.

Richard Schiffman proposed hope is not an appetite for this or that concocted future. With faith in ourselves, others, and things beyond explanation, fidelity to phenomena never fully explainable and indescribable, the present unlearns the past and the present moves comfortably into an agnostic future.

When we take time, pause and breath, we enter each moment able to let go of fictitious pasts and fantastic futures, living in this particular moment, no this one.

Hope is not about some future meadow.
Hope is not a triumphal march toward some brighter,
bloodless field. Neither is it lighting a candle
or cursing the darkness or calling the glass half full.
It is this half-empty tumbler turning cartwheels
above the chasm. You, for example—
poised above your own private precipice,
bruised and bloodied, sifting through the ashes
of ten thousand burnt offerings.
Don’t scatter those ashes; don’t stuff the corpses
into body bags just yet. Don’t launch a fleet
of skyrockets to cheer up Gehenna. Don’t pretend
that you’re still hungry, like those battle-blind birds
pecking for seeds between the corpses.
Hope is not an appetite for this or that concocted future.
It is the present seeking itself, the present—
unlearning the past, agnostic of the future—
breathing, in its chains, like the sea.

Advertisement

Nowhere In Particular

The post had me with the Mary Oliver question introducing it. What do we do with that one wild life we are given? We can build castles in the sky with it and find memorable destinations throughout.

Masked Native

‘Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?’
– from the poem ‘The Summer Day’ by Mary Oliver –

~ ~ ~

Castle In The Sky

The business of bees, dizzy with industry, intoxicate me in the clover patch.

Tiny, delicate trim of blue lace flowers sing of youth and beauty

to thin, feathery spikes of uncut summer grass.

Going nowhere in particular,

I am grateful to have discovered the heart of an old rose,

just before her petals fell, her one wild and precious life spent.

Going nowhere in particular,

when clouds darken my sky,and storms threaten,

I am given

the wisdom of men who write careful words with such generosity,

no applause expected.

I build castles in the sky,

for this one wild and precious life,

and everywhere I look, I find a destination to remember.

Oil painting ‘Castle In The Sky” © 2014 Teri…

View original post 1 more word

%d bloggers like this: