Aloha my friends,
I had no intention of writing this blog when I sat down. Being out in nature I think more about the Body Electric - the magnificent radiant being we all are, as shown in this Alex Gray painting. Could you imagine what it would be like if we actually saw each other in this form?
It inspired me to write a zen poem, but . . . just blabbering away in prose is more fun. So I'll free zen flow sorta like a poem maybe, instead.
Every morning I rake the leaves in my zen garden. Either truly but hardly or metaphorically always I rake the leaves in my zen garden. The zen garden is perfect. Sand. Stones. Stillness. The wind blows. More leaves come, settle. I am not attached to the wind blowing. I am not attached to the leaves or the leaves leaving and landing. I am not attached to the rake, or the rake awakening raking. I am but a movement, maybe an intruder, maybe not, a hands and feet and body movement in this dance which I’m choosing, and sometimes not. I’m simply an observer presented an opportunity to rake leaves. The wind and the leaves and the rake invite me, they must or I wouldn’t. I show up and do my part, when called. I fill my bag of balance and harmony. Sand. Stones. Stillness. Once more. Maybe for only a moment all is still, all is orderly, all is what some call, I wish to call, beauty, what I call zen . . . until the next zen wind blows . . . and the cycle continues.
Is not chaos part of the perfection? Chaozen.
I water the flowers and plants. I scan the world around me, beyond me, within me, real or imaginary and pray for, wish for, extend my blessings for everyone’s good health and happiness . . . then I go about doing what makes sense, or nonsense, one or the other. I join the zen wind.
As you know, I am an artist. I can’t help it. It’s terminal. It’s a sub-breed of the human species, probably or ET maybe . . . definitely ET. Some of us artists, though we can’t prove it, are here only to witness and record. Birthed really, we come from another planet that doesn’t have money. Money doesn’t make sense in timeless imagination. I fit in that category. Terminal imagination. And so, I imagine that we were given the free pass to paradise, into a place of incredible beauty, and we, me, artists absolutely can’t help but talk about it, channel it, reproduce it and remind everyone of the profound good fortune it is for us, for them, to actually be here. To be alive here. To be walking around here and taking it all in. Wow!
Every day of the week I plug in and I make art - I write. This is what I get up for . . . it’s what gives me joy. The witness recording. Seeing, Being. Reminding myself and whoever is interested . . .
I arrived with a gift . . . a talent. We all did. But I remember. I qualified. Certainly we all qualified, and then forgot. As I pray and meditate/contemplate on what that means, I remember more. I remember that I am, not necessarily what I do, I am a gift to share. Is that so strange? Is it so strange to think of yourself as a gift? I know that unless the gift or talent is put out there and shared, it’s squandered. I don’t want to waste my talent, my gift. I simply want to share it. I want to make the most of this precious vacation on earth. Who knows? Beaming up could happen at any time.
Every morning I rake the leaves in my zen garden. I gather my scattered leaves and place them in my bag of balance and harmony. I water the flowers and plants. I nurture my friendships and make sure they are healthy and happy ones.
Time is so precious. It is illusionary no doubt, but still precious. I read that the Hopi do not have a word for time. Their verbs have no tenses - no past or future tense like in the romantic languages. They live in what is called the “eternal present.”
This is what I contemplate: How can I successfully bring this concept of the eternal presence - created the reality of it - into my everyday life. How can I live in the eternal present? One way is to begin each day with the intention of creating successful eternal moments. As the opportunity arises I could orchestrate a very pleasant sharing of time and space with others, get lost in the moments of writing a fun and informative blog, or dive into the cooking of the best meal ever, or allow my brush to move flowingly over the canvas. The eternal moment could be the simple the act of sharing love, even with myself, writing a meaningful letter, cooking a delicious meal and creating a beautiful painting.
So I could wake up and look at the day before me as an empty canvas. My conscious intention is to fill that days canvas with a beautiful and successful painting, each and every eternal moment. I could start in one corner and paint a delicious breakfast, then move toward the center with several hours of fun and productive work, and continuing on with the activities of the day, giving each the love and attention which brings forth beauty. And by the time I lie down in bed that night I could say, “Wow, what a beautiful and successful eternal present I gave myself.”
These few days on Kauai I am focused on making my tent home beautiful and relaxing in the arms of Mother Kauai. I get up each morning and ask myself how I can organize and beautify - how can I get this home ready so I can leave it and have something wonderful for my friend Jack to return to?
It’s a question artists ask. “How can I get lost in the no-time of creation and make this piece of art so beautiful that whoever has it will enjoy it for the rest of their life? Truly, art is about letting go.
I let the free prayer fly.
With love and blessings,
David Dakan Allison
No comments:
Post a Comment