Return to the Garden

So engrossed with my company, it would be wrong to say that the rest of the world faded away ~ or that it ever existed at all. Yet there we were, in plain view, neither seeking to be seen nor offering performance, yet center stage in an exhibition of any passerby's own making.

It is not wrong to say that there is bliss found in surrender, but this "bliss" may take many forms including pain, suffering, disgrace, debasement, or humiliation. These forms are only experienced, however, when we fall from the state of complete surrender and its accompanying grace.

To what do you surrender that frees you from yourself?

Where were you before you realized you were naked in the garden and suddenly felt shame?

 

Alas, you cannot return to the garden ~ the path only takes you further away ~ nor can you never have left in the first place.

Only surrender and know what it is to be neither clothed nor naked.

Read it Again, and Act Accordingly

No matter what you read, you will know what it means and you will act accordingly.

No matter what you hear, you will know what it means and you will act accordingly.

No matter what you see, you will know what it means and you will act accordingly.

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And someday, you may revisit all of what you read, what you heard, what you saw, ..., 

... and you will know what it really meant

... and you will act accordingly.

Action & Response, Decisive & Spontaneous

6 a.m., two weeks prior to the summer solstice. The sky has been bright for 20 minutes already, the the cicada are in an ambient roar.

On the patio, I hear a rattling buzz ~ a lone cicada's "Help! I've fallen and I can't get up!" It's on its back beneath the patio table ~ legs twitching, wings rattling ~ and I wonder: Does the bug need help in righting itself, or maybe this is the the struggle before it frees itself from its carapace? Maybe these were its death throes, or maybe it's the moment before a hungry bluejay or cardinal makes it so? Who knows?

A moment before I would rise from my chair, it righted itself and awkwardly fluttered away.

Now, tell me what you see?

Is the question an invitation to open your senses and to share what you experience? Or perhaps it's a zen exercise ~ a trap! if it was anyone but me asking ~ or if you read the words on some other blog ~ would the question be easier to answer? How about If I extend my hand? Do you see pleasantries? An offer of friendship? Do you see the hakama and the mats and hear "Grab my wrist..."? Do you see what is in my hand being offered? Or do you see it is empty, open to accept?

The foxglove is cascading downward by the fence line ~ the joe-pye on the mound is tall but not yet ready to flower. The sun, a few degrees higher, burns through the trees, while under the table another cicada tumbles to a landing.

Happy Sunday. Time for coffee.