Recipe

Life is the approximation of cooking, not the exactitude of baking.  It’s a messy project, not a calculation, more art than arithmetic.  There are an infinite number of ways to proceed.  Be curious, consider the methods used by everyone you meet and, in doing so, find your own way.  Develop your recipe and never hesitate to share it.  To keep it secret is to become the dragon.

Let the road of experience season you, but beware of hardening, callousing.  Do your best to stay soft and tender.  The residue of clarity yields a suggestion of radiance, unmistakably luminous, but be careful not to become a prisoner of your insights.  Bondage exists in so many forms.        

Contemplate what is transcendent of the dimension of thought, the realm of polarities, the field of duality.  May your love be a light in dark places.

Let Me Become

Let me become a master of listening, a student of surrender. May a strong and blossoming tree grow from the root of all my fears, a tree with the innate knowledge of how to bend with the wind.

I have much to learn from the ferryman who spends his life taking people across the river, but there is even more to learn from the river itself: how to swell with a flood, how to narrow with a drought, how to be tossed about in a wild current or move with a gentle one, how to be in a place of stillness, how to be at the bottom, the middle, the surface.

May I forget all names, all naming, in order to better contemplate the nameless. May my judgments be altogether cast aside. Let me not torment myself with endless desires. Let me learn how to be with them, so that I can say “Good Morning, My Brothers” and “Good Evening, My Sisters” with compassion, and a simple tenderness.

Let me love hugely and endlessly. Let me become.

The Middle Way

May we not lose courage, may we open the flower of our own nature.  If we go or if we stay, may we find the Middle Way.

May we overcome contradiction without trying to resolve it.  May we feel what we’re feeling without needing to dissolve it.

Everything I thought I knew is just a stroke of brilliant blue, baptized by the earth and clouds.  Sparkle in my blind eye flatters, sightless seeing all that matters.  Every moment amazes once you’ve learned to sing the praises.

Wood and water, stone and leaf, time’s a terribly quiet thief.  World turning, changing me, all that I will ever be is sea and stars, primordial soup, tattoos and scars, then bones, bare bones, among the sleeping broken stones.

May we trust in gratitude, learn compassion, seek forgiveness.