Mind Weeds

Pulling out the weeds we give nourishment to the plant. The weeds in my mind turn to nourishment. Though effort creates waves, we must make effort to attain calmness.

In this realm, there is no subjectivity or objectivity. We are without awareness-- every effort, idea and thought will vanish. Keep your mind on your breathing until you are not aware of your breathing.

At first, the effort will be rough and impure. With time it will become pure-- and body and mind will become pure.

We have innate power to purify ourselves and our surroundings. You can act properly, will learn from and become friendly with others.

• Concentrate on breathing
• Right posture
• Great, pure effort

The Marrow of Zen

In zazen posture, mind and body have great power to accept things as they are, agreeable or disagreeable.

The worst horse is the most valuable one. In your way imperfections are the basis for your firm, way-seeking mind. Those who find great difficulties in practicing Zen will find more meaning to it.

When we reflect on what we do in everyday life, we are ashamed of ourselves.

One continuous mistake can be Zen-- many years of single-minded effort.

One who thinks he is one of the worst husbands may be a good one if he is always trying with a single-hearted effort.

No other activity will appease your suffering but sitting in zazen.

Which is more real-- your presence, or your problem? The awareness that you are here is the ultimate fact.

Labels: Beginner's Mind, Zen Mind, zen notes

Cinderella, a companion story to "Snow White"- based on my earlier unfinished story "Windflowers." As with "Snow White" I plan to explore the elements I think are important. Snow White was a story about coming of age. Cinderella is about claiming what you were born to own.

Satori - dramatic

Zen mind. To make you wonder, and to answer that wondering with the deepest expression of your own

Beginner's mind. What am I?

See things as they are, the original nature of everything

The student should teach himself

Calligraphy, i.e. to write in the most straightforward, simple way, like a beginner. As if discovering what you were writing for the first time. Your full nature will be in your writing.

Right Practice - body
Right Attitude - feeling
Right Understanding - mind

roshi - person who has actualized perfect freedom. Consciousness arises spontaneously and naturally from actual circumstances of the present, not fixed repetitive patterns of self-centered consciousness
Living in the present
Utter ordinariness. A mirror - we feel our own strengths and shortcomings without praise or criticism from him.

Our original face, the extraordinariness of our own nature

"In the beginner's mind, there are many possibilities, but in the expert's there are few."

Keep your practice from becoming impure

The goal is to keep beginner's mind

Self-sufficient state of mind. Empty, ready.

If you discriminate, you limit yourself
Too demanding or greedy, mind is not rich, self-sufficient

There is no thought, "I have attained something." Self-centered thoughts limit the mind. True beginner's - no thought of achievement or of self. When our mind is compassionate it is boundless

1. Right Practice

Body and mind are two and one
Each one of us is dependent and independent
We die, and we do not die

Mind and body are two sides to one coin

Do not try to attain any state of mind

Own your physical body. If you slump, you lose yourself. When we have our body and mind in order, everything else will exist in the right place in the right way.

But usually we try to order things outside us. It is impossible to organize things if you are not in order. When you do things in the right way at the right time, everything else will be organized.

Always take the right posture

Breathing -

Inner world and outer world are limitless
All that exists is the movement of the breathing
Awareness of the universal existence
No idea of time or space

We do things one after the other. There is no time. What we do at a certain time cannot be separated from the time.

i.e. to not like your lunch locale is to be tired of your life. To wish you had gone somewhere else. It is to separate the idea of place from a time.

Good and bad only in your mind. To do or not to do is the reality.

In pure religion, no confusion of time and space, good or bad

We should do. Even not-doing is doing.

Concentrate on breathing
Become a swinging door
Do something I should/must do

We are dependent, yet independent

We are in the center of the world

Concentrate on breathing - fundamental activity of the universal being

 - Control

Die as a small being, moment after moment

Everything beautiful is out of balance, but its background is always in perfect harmony

Suffering is how we live and extend our life

Best to do with people - watch them
Worst - ignore them
Second worst - trying to control them

This works on myself.

Do not be bothered by various images in my mind. Let them come and go.

The true purpose of Zen - to see things as they are. To let everything go as it goes. This is to put everything under control in its widest sense. Zen practice is to open our small mind to realize "big mind," or mind that is everything.

Time goes from past to present, from present to past, from present to future

To go eastward one mile is to go westward one mile

As long as you have rules, you have a chance for freedom

 - Mind waves

When you try to stop your thinking it means you are bothered by it. Do not be bothered by anything. Of you are not bothered by the waves of your mind, they will become calmer.

The mind includes everything. Nothing outside yourself can cause any trouble. You yourself make the waves in your mind.

The mind which includes everything - "big mind."
The mind related to something - limited mind

As your mind does not expect anything from outside, it is always filled

Water and waves are one. Big mind and small mind are one. When you understand this, you have security in your feeling.

A mind with waves is not disturbed but amplified.

Our experiences are always fresh and new, but are also continuous and repeated unfolding of one big mind.

"Good" is supplied by something experienced long ago

In big mind we accept each experience as if recognizing the face in the mirror as our own. There is no fear of using this mind, nowhere to come or go, no fear of death, no suffering. We enjoy all aspects of life as unfolding of big mind.

Labels: Beginner's Mind, Zen Mind, zen notes

This movie scared me to death when I was little, and may have something to do with my fear of excess. I do not remember it as a wholesome children's movie, but as a dissection of the darkest parts of human nature bathed in the sinister light of 1970's film-making, for some reason made into a children's movie.

SCENE 2. The Palace of Happiness.

When the curtain of clouds opens, the stage represents, in the forefront of the palace, a sort of hall formed of tall marble columns, between which hang heavy purple draperies, supported by golden ropes and concealing all the background. The architecture suggests the most sensual and sumptuous moments of the Venetian or Flemish Renascence, as seen in the pictures
of Veronese or Rubens, with garlands, horns of plenty, fringes, vases, statues, gildings, lavishly distributed on every side. In the middle stands a massive and marvelous table of jasper and silver-gilt, laden with candlesticks, glass, gold and silver plate and fabulous viands. Around the table, the biggest luxuries of the Earth sit eating, drinking, shouting, singing, tossing and lolling about or sleeping among the haunches of venison, the miraculous fruits, the overturned jars and ewers. They are enormously, incredibly fat and red in the face, covered with velvet and
brocade, crowned with gold and pearls and precious stones. Beautiful female slaves incessantly bring decorated dishes and foaming beverages. Vulgar, blatantly hilarious music, in which the brasses predominate. The stage is bathed in a red and heavy light.

(TYLTYL, MYTYL, _the_ DOG, BREAD _and_ SUGAR _are a little
awestruck at first end crowd round_ LIGHT _in the foreground, to the right. The_ CAT, _without a word, walks to the background, also to the right, lifts a dark curtain and disappears_.)

TYLTYL
Who are those fat gentlemen enjoying themselves and eating such a lot of good things?

LIGHT
They are the biggest Luxuries of the Earth, the ones that can be seen with the naked eye. It is possible, though not very likely, that the Blue Bird may have strayed among them for a moment. That is why you must not turn the diamond yet. For form's sake, we will begin by searching this part of the hall.

TYLTYL
Can we go up to them?

LIGHT
Certainly. They are not ill-natured, although they are vulgar and usually rather ill-bred.

MYTYL
What beautiful cakes they have!....

THE DOG
And such game! And sausages! And legs of lamb and calves' liver!... There is nothing nicer or lovelier in the world than liver!...

BREAD
Except quartern-loaves made of fine white flour! They have splendid ones!... How lovely they are! How lovely they are!...

SUGAR
I beg your pardon, I beg your pardon, I beg a thousand pardons.... Allow me, allow me.... I would not like to hurt anybody's feelings; but are you not forgetting the sweetmeats, which form the glory of that table and which, if I may say so, surpass in grandeur and magnificence all that exists in this hall, or perhaps anywhere else?...

TYLTYL
How pleased and happy they look!... And they are shouting! And laughing! And singing!... I believe they have seen us....

(_A dozen of the biggest_ LUXURIES _have risen from table and now, holding their stomachs in their hands, advance laboriously towards the_ CHILDREN.)

LIGHT
Have no fear, they are very affable.... They will probably invite you to dinner.... Do not accept, do not accept anything, lest you should forget your mission....

TYLTYL
What? Not even a tiny cake? They look so good, so fresh, so well iced with sugar, covered with candied fruits and brimming over with cream!...

LIGHT
They are dangerous and would break your will. A man should know how to sacrifice something to the duty he is performing. Refuse politely, but firmly.

THE BIGGEST OF THE LUXURIES (_holding out his hand to_ TYLTYL)
How do you do, Tyltyl?...

TYLTYL (_surprised_)
Why, do you know me?... Who are you?...

THE LUXURY
I am the biggest of the Luxuries, the Luxury of Being Rich; and I come, in the name of my brothers, to beg you and your family to honour our endless repast with your presence. You will find yourself surrounded by all that is best among the real, big Luxuries of this Earth. Allow me to introduce to you the chief of them. Here is my son-in-law, the Luxury of Being a Landowner, who has a stomach shaped like a pear. This is the Luxury of Satisfied Vanity, who has such a nice, puffy face, (_The_ LUXURY OF SATISFIED VANITY _gives a patronising nod_.) These are the Luxury of Drinking when you are not Thirsty and the Luxury of Eating when you are not Hungry: they are twins and their legs are made of macaroni. (_They bow, staggering_.) Here are the Luxury of Knowing Nothing, who is as deaf as a post, and the Luxury of Understanding Nothing, who is as blind as a bat. Here are the Luxury of Doing Nothing and the Luxury of Sleeping more
than Necessary: their hands are made of bread-crumb and their eyes of peach-jelly. Lastly, here is Fat Laughter: his mouth is split from ear to ear and he is irresistible....

(FAT LAUGHTER _bows, writhing and holding his sides_.)

TYLTYL (_pointing to a_ LUXURY _who is standing a little on one side_)
And who is that one, who dares not come up to us and who is turning his back?...

THE LUXURY OF BEING RICH
Do not ask about him: he is a little awkward and is not fit to be
introduced to children.... (_Seizing_ TYLTYL'S _hands_) But come
along! They are beginning the banquet all over again.... It is the twelfth time since this morning. We are only waiting for you.... Do you hear all the revellers calling and shouting for you?... I cannot introduce you to all of them, there are so many of them....(_Offering his arm to the two children_) Allow me to lead you to the two seats of honour....

TYLTYL
No, thank you very much, Mr. Luxury.... I am so sorry.... I can't come for the moment.... We are in a great hurry, we are looking for the Blue Bird. You don't happen to know, I suppose, where he is hiding?

THE LUXURY
The Blue Bird?... Wait a bit.... Yes, I remember.... Some one was telling me about him the other day.... He is a bird, that is not good to eat, I believe.... At any rate, he has never figured on our table.... That means that we have a poor opinion of him. But don't trouble; we have much better things.... You shall share our life, you shall see all that we do....

TYLTYL
What do you do?

THE LUXURY
Why, we occupy ourselves incessantly in doing nothing.... We never have a moment's rest.... We have to drink, we have to eat, we have to sleep. It's most engrossing....

TYLTYL
Is it amusing?

THE LUXURY
Why, yes.... It needs must be; it's all there is on this Earth....

LIGHT
Do you think so?...

THE LUXURY (_pointing to_ LIGHT, _aside, to_ TYLTYL)
Who is that ill-bred young person?...

(_During the whole of the preceding conversation a crowd of_ LUXURIES_of the second order have been busying themselves with the_ DOG, SUGAR _and_ BREAD _and have dragged them to the orgie_. TYLTYL_suddenly sees them seated fraternally at the table with their hosts, eating, drinking and flinging themselves about wildly_.)

TYLTYL
Why, look, Light!... They are sitting at the table!...

LIGHT
Call them back, or this will have a bad end!...

TYLTYL
Tylô!... Here, Tylô!... Come here at once, will you? Do you hear?... And you too, Sugar and Bread, who told you to leave me?... What are you doing there, without permission?

BREAD (_speaking with his mouth full_)
Can't you keep a civil tongue in your mouth?...

TYLTYL
What? Is Bread daring to be impertinent?... Why, what's come over you?...And you, Tylô?... Is that the way you obey? Now then, come here, on your knees, on your knees!... And look sharp!...

THE DOG (_muttering, from the end of the table_)
When I'm eating, I'm at home to nobody and I hear nothing....

SUGAR (_honey-mouthed_)
Pardon us, we could not possibly leave such charming hosts so abruptly: they would be offended....

THE LUXURY
You see!... They are setting you an example.... Come, we are waiting for you.... We won't hear of a refusal.... We shall have to resort to a gentle iolence.... Come, you Luxuries, help me!... Let us push them to the table y force, so that they may be happy in spite of themselves!... (_All the_ LUXURIES, _uttering cries of joy and skipping about as nimbly as they are able, drag the_ CHILDREN, _who struggle, while_ FAT LAUGHTER _seizes_ LIGHT _vigorously round the waist_.)

LIGHT
Turn the diamond, it is time!...

(TYLTYL _obeys_ LIGHT'S _order. Forthwith, the stage is lit up with an ineffably pure, divinely roseate, harmonious and ethereal brightness. The heavy ornaments in the foreground, the thick red hangings become unfastened and disappear, revealing an immense and magnificent hall, a sort of cathedral of gladness and serenity, tall, innocent and almost transparent, whose endless fabric rests upon innumerous long and slender, limpid and blissful columns, suggesting the architecture of the Palladian churches or certain drawings by Carpaccio, notably the "Presentation of the
Virgin" in the Uffizi Gallery. The table of the orgie melts away without leaving a trace; the velvets, the brocades, the garlands of the_LUXURIES _rise before the luminous gust that invades the temple tear asunder and fall, together with the grinning masks, at the feet of the astounded revellers. These become visibly deflated, like burst bladders, exchange glances, blink their eyes in the unknown rays that hurt them; and, seeing themselves at last as they really are, that is to say, naked, hideous, flabby and lamentable, they begin to utter yells of shame and dismay, amid which those of_ FAT LAUGHTER _are clearly distinguishable
above all the rest. The_ LUXURY OF UNDERSTANDING NOTHING _alone remains perfectly calm, while his friends rush about madly, trying to flee, to hide themselves in corners which they hope to find dark. But there is not a shadow left in the dazzling room. And so the majority, in their despair, decide to pass through the threatening curtain which, in an angle on the right, closes the vault of the Cave of Miseries. Each time that one of them, in his panic, raises a skirt of the curtain, a storm of oaths,
imprecations and maledictions is heard to issue from the hollow depths of the cave. As for the_ DOG, BREAD _and_ SUGAR, _they hang their heads, join the group of the_ CHILDREN _and hide behind them very sheepishly_.)

 
Weatherford, TX

Labels: towns

We discussed it this weekend, and we love it when we find people who have discrepancies in their characters-- parts that would not be related to another part. This is, of course, a hallmark to creating an excellent novel character, not something I do as often as I should.

I am aware that there are parts of me that don't fit. Things I love, ideals I admire, that have nothing to do with where I come from or even my gender. I find a kind of beauty in the city I can't really live without anymore, and yet when I feel my roots I feel completely myself. We are all, I guess, in a state of flux, and it is only when we are changing that we are living.

I have made a start of putting my Backpackit content on my own pages. This is my first attempt, my tea page. I like how it turned out. There's still some things I want to improve, but I know I have to just put it out there if I ever want to get anything done. It won't be perfect at first.

My favorite part about it is the Javascript effect. I am really excited that I will be able to use that in my image galleries.

I have decided to control everything through FTP instead of server side, because the latter makes absolutely no sense. I do a lot of my computer work at coffee shops where I don't purchase the Internet access. I can't edit anything if it's all server-side. I'm disappointed in that I would like to push myself into learning those CMS's and wikis, but this is a good, simple start.

I have not been so interested in becoming a web designer more recently anyway. I've been busy with my work and my writing, and I don't feel a void so much anymore.

All my senses are acute. As the morning sunlight washed over me, and I understood the whole narrative after a month or so of reading, it came upon me to the resolution of my whole perverse nature. One of the questions I have so often asked myself, with the attitude of heartbreak between Romeo and Juliet, or some epic lost love, is why I did not choose the thing that blazes over my nature, with which I have absolute sympathy, as the center of my life. The study of literature, the understanding of human nature, which obsesses me at all times.

As I thought of what I really do, I was thrilled with the irony and revelation that I chose a profession that could not touch my heart, nor give me even the remotest satisfaction, nor do that which is my whole aim, giving beauty to the world. A scientist has never and will never give beauty to the world. He exists like a worm beneath a rock. Contributing something, usefulness, but beauty, never, and for someone with my mind, I think it a terrific waste to trouble oneself over the human form. To preserve our frail forms as if there was nothing more. To harness the powers of the earth for our own propagation. Those who would do it and profit from such operation are a waste to me-- even myself.

It is because of my deepest sympathy to something more that I chose the most wasteful and meaningless of professions. Every other profession I think of does yield beauty to the world in some form or other, but not science.

I knew, and I dabbled dangerously, in English classes. In my deepest heart I knew I could not present myself to professors as a vessel to be filled with their good knowledge, that I can trust no mind other than my own with regard to this study. Independent, I may stumble, but my ideas are my own, and I am never expected to take on another's belief. I choose the forces that shape my mind. I might miss things along the way, but I learned so soon what unreliable narrators can do in the real world, that I could not risk it.

This is the perversity of my existence, that the ideas that come forth in my writing be entirely of my own will, eeked out of my free time, not for profit or recognition in the usual sense, and that if I fail to do this, I will have created no beauty in the world, because what I do for a living is absolutely meaningless.

This is, anyway, how I feel after reading The Blithedale Romance that chills me, because I have enough experience to be chilled, and also thrills me, because I do have a purpose, when so many in the world don't, and mourn that lack.

The To-Do list is my life right now, and in going to the Blogger site to gather info on customizing my blog further, which I am actually planning to turn into one big to-do list, I found this blog featured, which I think is neat. Basically the thought is turning to-do lists into some kind of self-confessional art. Not really want I want to do, obviously. I just like putting my goals and accomplishments online as a means of motivating myself.

Growing up I would never have expected myself to become so totally immersed in this kind of thing, but the GTD system is exactly what I'm about right now. I have not really looked into this system, but I think it's in line with my current philosophies. Not only am I interested in getting things done, within the last year I have turned the whole process of list-making into a complicated orchestration, and even an investigation of different ways to take notes and make lists. This started probably with my Treo, when I found I could keep books of information in one small device, whether I wanted to start an impromptu novel or write down a street name.

Anyway, there's two aspects of this process. One is to produce the layout or flow of information; the other to format it. The formatting is as important to me as the work-flow. This month's Victoria article on Alexandra Stoddard, "A Room of One's Own" captures my sentiments perfectly. What you write on and with is very important for some people. I prefer electronics to journals, even though it's so much more challenging to get a system that looks "perfect." I'm very sensitive to how things look, and it's hard to channel my thoughts and feelings into a site that is ugly, like MySpace and even Livejournal. Backpackit is the closest thing to perfect I have found, and I mimicked it in my server-side wiki, but I've decided to keep things as simple as they can be, and simply make my own pages in Dreamweaver.

This is a neat little mini-blog. I like to remember the history of the 'Net.

Lifetype - is what I am trying out right now; no support in Windows Live Writer or hblogger, but there are plugins for mobile support. Still, limited to email and MMS's. I like because I can create multiple blogs on the fly easily, without using more databases. Ecto for Windows will work with Lifetype and looks like I can do other stuff with it too.

MMS's? I'm charged by the message, but it doesn't take away from my monthly Internet allotment. If I use the Internet infrequently, I can get a small plan, and being charged by message is more cost-effective, since I post irregularly.

Wordpress - supported by Windows Live Writer, not hblogger. But can post by email, nothing about posting images.

It's really interesting the way this is going. I guess revisions aren't so terrible as I was making them out to be. I like discovering things I did that were right, and I am learning more about the way I write. I can't really plot out an entire novel before I write it, though it is a necessity to plot out the major events. The bits and pieces, "filler," ends up becoming the most important part, and I make it up as I go along-- kind of like sewing a basic garment together, then embroidering and embellishing on it, which is a real joy (in both cases). I guess a storyteller is an embellisher. Some people get on a kick about how they are liars as authors, loving to tell lies. I'm not sure what that's about. I don't have any trouble telling the truth, and when I tell people about things that happened to me I'm pretty bare bones. No one would ever guess that I write novels. The embellishments to my character's basic story are hardly lies. They're where the life is.

I found after a cursory analysis that Winter Light's major premise is fragmented into several subplots which all add back up to the premise. The subplots are necessary because there are many characters and relationships. Every character's relationship with every other is fascinating, and it's confusing because at times the story seems saga-like. It's hard to maintain a singular perspective and I'm still not totally sure what kind of story this really is. It's a gothic romance primarily, with a saga influence. All family relationships/conflicts support my premise, which somehow reminds me of The Last Unicorn.

The character I find myself repeating is King Haggard, of The Last Unicorn. He's the gothic romance patriarch, and Peter S. Beagle's sympathetic portrayal of him really impacted me. He has done something wrong, because inside him is a craving for beauty, a delicacy of spirit that most people, who never do anything wrong, are never enlightened enough to feel. He is one of those rare people who believes in and loves unicorns-- that he imprisons them for himself is wrong, and yet I feel infinitely sympathetic to this kindred spirit. Is it worse to imprison beauty and delight in it, or to be just another tiresome drone who never notices beauty?

The story's title comes from the lyrics, "Wandering through the winter light/ the wicked and the sane/ bear witness to salvation/ and life starts over again." The song is ghostly, not really about right or wrong but the no man's land which exists between them, where real life lies.