In this moment we, the two of us, are here in this precise place and there are an infinite number of places we might be. But we want to be here, just here, nowhere else. We are aging, but in this moment we are exactly the right age and to be younger or older would do nothing for us. When I curl against you as the morning light struggles to pierce the pulled blinds and stroke your arm my fingers are in the only place my fingers want to be. Here, now, together.
Do not ask me to recite the Dharma When I am breathing there is only breath in and breath out. Be like the poor man lost and wandering going nowhere, each breath the only breath. Having nothing, simply being.
A reflection on case 3 of the Book of Equanimity Koans
It should give you pause to consider that, in the midst of boundless greed, enmeshed in the near cult of self, rushing always to go nowhere quickly, certain the problems of the world, can be solved tomorrow, using resources that may never be replenished or substituted for,
when we are dead and buried, we will be the fossil fuels that future generations rightfully shun in horror.
In the interstitial moment between birth and death a universe comes into existence, something that never before existed and existed always, new and well-known, unseen and visible for eternity.
Measure it well for it is incapable of measurement, and ends without warning and precisely on schedule. In the momentary breath that marks the transit, we proceed nowhere and cannot return to where we began.
I am compiling a list, ever so slowly, of places I still want to visit, and you may be surprised to find that Paris, London and Madrid are nowhere to be found.
It isn’t that they lack beauty, charm and countless things to see and do, it is simply that they have been usurped by other places commanding my attention.
I’ve been to Zeeb and Pawpaw, if driving by on the interstate counts, and I am certain in Michigan it must, but I do need a good laugh at times, and Yeehaw Junction just might satisfy my need perfectly, and, failing that, there is always Surprise and Carefree, and if I want to lose myself for a while Nowhere is waiting patiently for me, although I have heard it’s a bit hard to find.
No, what I really need is Happy Corner, and from there, as I age I know I must eventually, end up in Truth or Consequences.
It is a large boulder in the middle of a rutted path. That path leads nowhere in particular. It comes to an end at the edge of what appears to be a dense forest. Several trees are posted with “Do Not Trespass” signs, long faded until you must stare to make out the words. The forest is foreboding, so it is not clear if anyone would willingly enter. Few ever come down the path. Fewer still make it to its end. The large boulder has been here for centuries. It stares up at the sky, in amazement.
There are those desperately searching, who stumble along the way, tripping over the dharma gems lying in their path. Others proceed slowly, pausing to examine each pebble, each twig uncertain if it, just possibly, was the key to enlightenment. I wander along, going nowhere, knowing that is where the path must lead, and I am always where the path and I must intersect in time and space. A young child seeing this merely smiles and returns to his seat beneath the Bodhi tree.