The Son of Man has no place to rest his head

October 1, 2017 by admin Leave a Comment

The Son of Man has no place to rest his head….which I tie to Zen Prajna, the aroused mind that does not rest on form. Which ties back to Irony, which is the realization that the form of the known you are resting on is going in a tape loop. HAH! The Zen Koan is broken. That’s freedom.

If we cannot see irony, we can’t see, period. . Irony is the portal to greater understanding that comes from the unknown or Field of Potential Knowledge. For the ancient Hebrews. God is ironic. That’s why Jews make great comics. Comedy is irony. irony is the double-bind where you ultimately become trapped in a lose/lose feed-back-loop. It is through SEEING the irony in our life—through seeing our incessant attempts to break out of our closed mind and always failing— that we Break Out.

This breaking out if Freedom; it is the Christ function or the Zen function. “The Son of Man has no place to rest his head” is an ironic statement. Whenever you think you have it (when you can rest your mind) you doIf we cannot see irony, we can’t see, period. . Irony is the portal to greater understanding that comes from the unknown or Field of Potential Knowledge. For the ancient Hebrews. God is ironic. That’s why Jews make great comics. Comedy is irony. irony is the double-bind where you ultimately become trapped in a lose/lose feed-back-loop. It is through SEEING the irony in our life—through seeing our incessant attempts to break out of our closed mind and always failing— that we Break Out. This breaking out is the Christ function or the Zen function. “The Son of Man has no place to rest his head” is an ironic statement. Whenever you think you have it (when you can rest your mind) you do.

Free Will then is the freedom of the Cosmos itself it create itself out of itself. When we identify with form and personal will, we close our system and it turns back upon itself in irony. Seeing is a function of freedom. Seeing is a dynamic interplay and unity between the created (cause and effect me as form) and the creator or universal that is an empt field of potential.

We are trapped in the unseen irony where we perceive ourselves as the created and some other force, God or the world or Satan or the Government or Obama creating us and taking away out freedom or giving it to us. Either way, we are the passive victim, the created. But in truth we are the creator/created. We interact with the Cosmos or God to create the world we live in, either as a dynamic coherent world of wonder and adventure or a dismal closed world that continually disappoints us. Either way, we are creating the universe we live in. So, I say, why not enjoy it!

We’re looking (or at least I’m looking) at Jesus as not only a form in time/space but as a function, an entry into our potential, and potential is something that has no existed before, so when it comes to activating one’s potential there is no reference to your past or the known, or to history and cause and effect. Jesus as Son of Man is then not a form that is known, but a verb that creates new form. Jesus is a Breaking Out from the known, from your history, into a bravo new way of being that cannot be known before you jump into it. Therefore, faith is the only way to leap from the diving board of the known—and faith means there is no certainty there is any water in the pool. The pool into which you leap is the unknown, and that’s what our potential is, the Unknown.

But for the woodpecker

March 17, 2017 by admin Leave a Comment

But for the woodpecker
tapping at a post, no sound
at all in the house. (Basho)
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We all have heard the woodpecker tapping, tapping…and the house must be very quiet to hear that tapping outside. But what is the house here? No thoughts in the house either. Thought are sound. Sound is movement. Thoughts are mind sounds. So now we are really quiet. All that exists is the woodpecker’s tapping. And even that is not a woodpecker, not something with a name because that naming is also a sound in the house. There is no “Oh, that’s a woodpecker.” There is not even the poet in the house, because the idea that I’m in the house is also a sound in the house. But for the tapping, tapping…there is nothing or no one there. This is Zen.

There is a shift from awareness-of the wood pecker as an object to awareness-as the woodpecker. There is a shift from awareness of the woodpecker to awareness-as the sound of the tapping. Awareness has shifted from objective to subjective, and subjective awareness has no boundary, a house without an IT. Only Now exists.

Village songs more lovely

March 16, 2017 by admin Leave a Comment

Singing, planting rice,
village songs more lovely
than famous city poems (Basho)
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Why are village songs more lovely than city poems? Why are country people different than city people? What is the ground of each? Is city life artificial? Is the village in the body while the city is in the mind? Are family networks stronger in the village? Is city life fragmented while village life is whole. Does fame and fortune matter in the simple village. Is the village timeless? Is the city future orientated?

The silence of stone

March 15, 2017 by admin Leave a Comment

Lonely silence,
a single cicada’s cry
sinking into stone (Basho)

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How unusual to associate sound with stone. The poets creates an intermediate zone where sense data is mixed in unfathomed ways to come up with a new sense that no single sense can be conscious of. The poet plays with sense portals like a child running through the house opening and shutting doors. A sound sinks into stone. Or is it silence that is stone. What is more lonely than stone. What is more still than stone. We listen to cicada’s cry and it does sink into stillness…it is the cry that creates the stillness. Without the cry you would not know stillness. The poet describes silence with sound. A noise with stone.

From all these trees

March 14, 2017 by admin Leave a Comment

From all these trees—
in salads, soups, everywhere—
cherry blossoms fall (Basho)
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This haiku just gives me a sense, a feeling that is hard to pin down with words, and I guess that is the point of the haiku, to go where words cannot go. Beauty is falling here, everywhere, in salads and soups, everywhere. Beauty everywhere falling like cherry blossoms. All is One, yet Two. The poet sees the two (or many) yet there is one cherry blossom falling everywhere.