• Bodhisattvacharyavatara
    • Introduction
    • Chapter 1
    • Chapter 2
    • Chapter 3
    • Chapter 4
    • Chapter 5
    • Chapter 6
    • Chapter 7
    • Chapter 8
    • Chapter 9
    • Chapter 10
  • collected works
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    • askance From Hell
    • Batman
    • The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford
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    • Edward Hopper: Poems at an Exhibition
    • David Bowie Movements in Suite Major
    • Eglinton Hill
    • FLOORBOARDS
    • Granada
    • in and out / the Avebury stones / can’t seem to get / a signal …
    • Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters]
    • Miller’s Batman
    • mum
    • nan
    • Portsmouth – Southsea
    • Spring Warwick breezes / over Bacharach fieldwork and boroughs with / the occasional shift and chirp of David / in the pastel-long morning of the sixties
    • through the crash
  • index
    • #A-E see!
    • F–K, wha’ th’
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mlewisredford

~ may the Supreme and Precious Jewel Bodhichitta take birth where it has not yet done so …

mlewisredford

Tag Archives: meditation

the turtle and the yoke

10 Tuesday Apr 2018

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

2017, 8*, arrogance, benefit, blindness, Bodhisattvacharyavatara, breathing, facade, faith, glamour, honesty, kleshas, laziness, meditation, ocean, potential, practice, rebirth, self-indulgent, spontaneity, talking to myself, turtle, voices, windows

                the turtle and the yoke

                here is something cold-sweaty
                and uncomfortable to face –
                so much potential, so little use –

                seduced by the whispers of maybe
                I am arrogant, I am lazy, I am
                self-indulgent; they advance

                tempting as bright sweeties
                unchecked by doesn’t-really-
                matter and giddy spontaneity

                facing them will not be entertaining
                or glamourous or noble, it
                won’t even feel good

                but that it would magnify
                longer term benefits if I simply persisted;
                but I have such weak and

                feckless faith: the befuddled
                turtle disturbs the sea-bed slow-motion
                it is time to rise to take the breath

                when civic façade fades to window,
                but there is so much ocean,
                I cannot see which way is up

                but trust to hope and buoyancy
                that it could be
                that this time will place my neck

                in the life-yoke brightly adrift
                about the shoreless sea, to realise
                I could be a radiant being

 

Bodhisattvacharyavatara IV, 20

 

from … Human Life is Extremely Hard to Find, by Geshe Sonam Rinchen; full article found: HERE

A blind turtle lives on the ocean bed and surfaces just once every hundred years. A golden yoke floats on the vast ocean, blown here and there by the wind. What are the chances of the turtle surfacing at just the right time and in just the right place to be able to put its head through the yoke? Our chances of gaining a life of freedom and fortune are just as improbable. You may think it couldn’t possibly be so difficult, but cyclic existence is like a vast and stormy ocean and we are like the turtle that spends most of its time in the depths and only surfaces very occasionally. For most of our lives we have been in bad rebirths and it happens only very rarely that we emerge from these into a good rebirth.

The yoke is made of gold and is therefore heavy, so it often sinks and is invisible. The yoke symbolizes the teachings of an enlightened one. An age of illumination is a period dur­ing which an enlightened one has taught in the world and those teachings are still extant, but there are much longer dark periods of time when the world is without such teachings.

The yoke does not remain in one place but is blown here and there by the wind. Similarly the teachings first flourish in one country and then in another. They thrive where people take an interest in practicing them and die out when they cease to be alive in people’s hearts. Sometimes the turtle comes up to the surface but in a place where there is no golden yoke. This is like taking a good rebirth but having no access to the teachings.

The turtle must actually put its head into the yoke, which signifies that the only way into the teachings is by taking refuge in the Three Jewels. Our lack of interest in the teachings and our reluctance to engage with them is due to our lack of intelligence, which is like the turtle’s blindness. No matter what good circumstances we enjoy, our life is not truly fortunate and free from obstacles if we have no interest in the Buddha’s teachings.

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

breathing wormhole: where did the silence go
meditation wormhole: may the supreme and precious jewel bodhichitta … // … take birth where it has not yet done so … // … where it has taken birth may it not decrease … // … but may it increase infinitely
practice wormhole: ‘still …’
talking to myself wormhole: next unexpected step
voices wormhole: Sheffield Park Gardens
windows wormhole: quiet river

 

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may the supreme and precious jewel bodhichitta … // … take birth where it has not yet done so … // … where it has taken birth may it not decrease … // … but may it increase infinitely

09 Thursday Feb 2017

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

2013, 8*, being, Bodhichitta, breathing, circular poem, colour, difficulty, distraction, doing, eyes, identity, jewel, letting go, life, lost, meditation, prayer, putting out, seeing, self, singing, sitting, stone, talking to myself, tired, voices, Woodbrooke

                             difficulty comes
                        unfitting perfectly to
                          each situation

may the supreme and precious jewel bodhichitta …

                                                                                    t
                                                                                          i
                                                          a big fat ball                  r
                                         all I see is                       with odd       e
                                    or above it                              spicy bits       d
                                        round it                              fills up
                                        I can’t see                       my being
                                                        closes my eyes

… take birth where it has not yet done so …

                                 the fuzz and static
      drowned out by                                 and the tiny shiny
        before being                                      coloured stones
of determination                                          mixed in and
         sing a voice                                       mostly lost which
             surface and                                 sometimes
                                      work to the

                                                                        is not me
                                                                        is not the self
                                                                        standing sitting or sleeping
                                                            and always always breathing

… where it has taken birth may it not decrease …

                                                                        I can’t put out
                                                            I miss the point or miss the opportunity
                                                                        every time I venture
                                                or hold back

                                                                        I have loads to offer
                                                            but no receptacle
                                                            far better to sit
                                                improve my aim

… but may it increase infinitely

                                                                                    I get so much more
                                                                                    done by just being
                                                                                    without knowing it
                                                                                    without knowing –
                                                                                    even – about it

                                                                                    I think I’ll just
                                                                                    offer my being
                                                                                    from now on
                                                                                    and not try to
                                                                                    do anything to be

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

being & doing & life wormhole: ‘never look up’?
Bodhichitta & eyes & seeing wormhole: so pleased to see you again
breathing & sitting & talking to myself wormhole: breathing out
circular poem wormhole: everwhile
distraction & meditation wormhole: within
identity & stone wormhole: Open – All – Ours
letting go wormhole: comfy
voices wormhole: what wounds have you got?

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within

25 Friday Nov 2016

Posted by m lewis redford in announcements

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

2013, 5*, being, breathing, distraction, letting go, meditation, space, thought

                                                getting
                                better at meditation
                isn’t a matter of having less thoughts –
                                distracting or otherwise –
                                                or even
a matter of being seduced by them and following them deadened wherever they go
                                                or not

                                                it is
                                about the space
                to breathe within
                every fibre of their being
                                whether they are frantic
                                                or calm
                                                or not

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

being wormhole: not / the Catcher
breathing wormhole: just saying, is all VI: // accountable / for my own outbreath / …
distraction wormhole: because
letting go wormhole: Prajnaparamita // Maitreya
meditation wormhole: out!
space wormhole: con / sum / mate
thought wormhole: passersby

 

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out!

17 Saturday Oct 2015

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

2014, being, Buddha, conception, context, desire, discernment, habit, identity, looking, Majjhima Nikaya, meditation, microscope, Pali, passive, point, reductionism, seeing, talking to myself, telescope, the Poison Arrow Analogy, thinking, transitive, will, world, writing

                                is seeing transitive
                                              or passive
                do you look to see as the will will direct
                                or do you select what you see as
                                              desire will allow
                                is it a microscope that focusses down
                                              to constituents
                                or a telescope that conceives
                                              what there is from what isn’t
                                do I see the point
                                              or contextualise it
                                              does it come to me
                                                              or do I dwell in the world defined by my looks and habit
                                                              is it both or neither

                                or should I just get this damn arrow out!
                                              of my eye

                                                              –O~~~

 

                                                                                    ~~~O–

                                                              so, is
                                              writing or meditating
                                                              transitive or passive …

                                                              – SLAP! –

 

“It’s just as if a man were wounded with an arrow thickly smeared with poison.   His friends & companions, kinsmen & relatives would provide him with a surgeon, and the man would say, ‘I won’t have this arrow removed until I know whether the man who wounded me was a noble warrior, a priest, a merchant, or a worker.’   He would say, ‘I won’t have this arrow removed until I know the given name & clan name of the man who wounded me… until I know whether he was tall, medium, or short… until I know whether he was dark, ruddy-brown, or golden-colored… until I know his home village, town, or city… until I know whether the bow with which I was wounded was a long bow or a crossbow… until I know whether the bowstring with which I was wounded was fiber, bamboo threads, sinew, hemp, or bark… until I know whether the shaft with which I was wounded was wild or cultivated… until I know whether the feathers of the shaft with which I was wounded were those of a vulture, a stork, a hawk, a peacock, or another bird… until I know whether the shaft with which I was wounded was bound with the sinew of an ox, a water buffalo, a langur, or a monkey.’   He would say, ‘I won’t have this arrow removed until I know whether the shaft with which I was wounded was that of a common arrow, a curved arrow, a barbed, a calf-toothed, or an oleander arrow.’   The man would die and those things would still remain unknown to him.”

from the “Cula-Malunkyovada Sutta: The Shorter Instructions to Malunkya” (Majjhima Nikaya 63), translated from the Pali by Thanissaro Bhikkhu.   Access to Insight (Legacy Edition), 30 November 2013, http://www.accesstoinsight.org/tipitaka/mn/mn.063.than.html .

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

being & Buddha wormhole: de Boeddha // of light
identity wormhole: zok! and pow!
looking wormhole: dream 260815
meditation wormhole: between
seeing wormhole: now, the verticals go down as well as they go up
talking to myself wormhole: exactly equal
thinking wormhole: just saying, is all V: // … systematic and consistent disempowerment
world wormhole: Detective Comics #345
writing wormhole: enough

 

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between

02 Monday Mar 2015

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

2015, being, between, blessing, Buddha, cliffs, duty, identity, letting go, looking, manfestation, meditation, non-doing, openness, power, realisation, sea, self, space, time, trust, Vajrapani

 

 

 

                                I learnt
                           a while ago that power
                                is to be
                           found between what it lets
                                manifest:
                           the blessing of Vajrapani when
                                I wasn’t
                           even looking for it but was
                                actively
                           open to it should it come along,
                                although
                           there is always space if you
                                don’t look
                           too carefully and there’s always
                                the duty
                           of not looking too carefully if you trust
                                the space
                           between enough to let it go to be
                                without
                           getting the needy self all tangled
                                up in it

                                I had a
                           hunch about this earlier* when
                                looking
                           back at the cliffs while floating on the sea and
                                watched
                           the Buddha sit in meditation
                                for hours
                           that seemed like geologic eras

 

* poem called ‘Buddha Shakyamuni’; yet to be published

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

being wormhole: purpose
Buddha wormhole: silence
identity wormhole: under silent direction of architecture
letting go & realisation wormhole: relapse
looking wormhole: ‘the old chair rocked …’
meditation wormhole: tong // len
openness wormhole: new year’s eve 2014; train up to London to / walk the bridges across the Thames, and / listen to the voices say it is, and was, like, / but get back home before the fireworks / obliterate it all in the emptying twilight
power wormhole: Dr Strange II – … things are the same again
sea wormhole: September – silhouette of leaf // the / inside and the / outside
space wormhole: Woolwich Central – making life better II
time wormhole: what heavy and cantilevered structure

 

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tong // len

02 Tuesday Dec 2014

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

2014, 6*, breathing, doing, giving, heartbeat, identity, meditation, others, Pema Chödrön, self-compassion, smile, tonglen, world

 

 

 

                                              tong

                                with a slight smile
                I let all the flexed up and over-extended
                                gantries and girders
                                creaking and grinding like an obscene and vulgar meccano
                                              go

                                              len*

                                              just
                once and suddenly realise that this
                                is what I have to give
                                organic to the world like a heartbeat

 

* ‘tong’ is a Tibetan word meaning ‘taking’ (the pain, fate and tragedy, of myself and others, in the form of gastric-oily bile [whatever], into your heart, where it is cleansed and purified by your naïve and blatant care); ‘len’ means ‘giving’ (back, to yourself and others, the care and release that you have generated [at their instigation and encounter] with gratitude); done both with mind while sitting [meditation], and with body while doing [breathing]; until the roles of self and other are reversed like a tight glove taken off inside-out; if piqued have a look at:

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

breathing wormhole: Plumstead – Woolwich 121114
doing & smile wormhole: a gift
giving wormhole: – sigh! –
identity & meditation & world wormhole: I need to keep my eyes open / in meditation
others wormhole: 20th century / schzoid man

 

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I need to keep my eyes open / in meditation

29 Saturday Nov 2014

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

2013, 6*, awareness, being, blogging, eyes, film, identity, letting go, life, meditation, mind, music, reading, swim, tide, world, writing

 

 

 

                                              I need to keep my eyes open
                                                              in meditation

                                could it be
that the majority of my noble pastimes
                the reading writing blogging music film
                                              all of them
                are great wide comforting pools to slip into        and
                                              submerge myself
                                away from the awkward fit of
                                                              my
                                                              mi
                                                              nd’
                                                              s s
                                                              elf
                                              in the whole of the world
                                where nothing fits together        like concrete rip-rap

                wouldn’t it be better
                                to climb out of those
                                              amniotic pools and swim
                                instead
                                              through the thousand awkward angles
                (that define me defeated
                                and adversarial to them all)
                                and start standing
                                              o n
                                              m y
                                              own
                                              two
                                              feet
                                with each incoming tide?

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

awareness & reading wormhole: a light rosé
being & eyes & identity wormhole: Dr Strange IV – ellipses
film wormhole: four-colour pulp into cinematic di[gital]pix[el][live ac]tion so easily makes for semantic palava (if you read what I mean) … the foredreading of Dr Strange
letting go wormhole: thinking wide enough
life & world wormhole: Dr Strange III – the needs of billions
meditation wormhole: – sigh! –
mind wormhole: prologue
music wormhole: Plumstead – Woolwich 121114
writing wormhole: poised patiently for / hours

 

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– sigh! –

20 Thursday Nov 2014

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

2014, 7*, attention, awareness, balance, being, Bodhichitta, confession, conscientiousness, dark, dharma, doing, effort, emptiness, faces, giving, identity, India, institution, jewel, joke, living, meditation, Nalanda, paramitas, patience, posture, practice, realisation, Shantideva, sitting, sky, society, speech, step, talking, voices, vow, wisdom, words

                                – sigh! –

they built the throne high
                homage to the words which reach to the sky
                                homage to the words which dissolve into sky
                                              due and proper

                they built it too high
                                              with no steps
                                              with no steps!
                                                              the worst sort of idolatry
                                              all homage and no practice
                                all industry and no yield
                all protocol and no truth
                realisation stuck in amber
                                              the way of all institutions with walls

                                they seek to expose indolence
                as earnestly as if it were true practice
                                              for the sake of the Teaching
                                they would renounce even eating sleeping and defecating
                                              for the sake of all beings
                                the Teaching cannot be besmirched

                                              wide sky everywhere
                but it is so dark …

                                              the throne is not high
                                I am not low
                                              I shall sit on the throne
                                I shall sit on the floor
                                              shall I give them a talk
                                or shall I talk
                                              I shall talk

                of jewels in refuse
                     and refuse in hiding
                          of vows to pause
                               and pause to keep finding
                                    of finding to step
                                         and stepping with poise
                                              of poise to balance
                                                   and balance to sit
                                                        of the sky the sky the sky
                                                             of the sky and everything

                look at their faces –
                                some of them got my jokes
                                              (a few of them saw them coming)
                most looked around the place to see where my voice was coming from –
                                all of them are so perfect
                                              but variously blind

                                              anyway
                                I’m off to the South now … oh!
                                                              I never left!

 

if you’ve made it all the way down here it might make fuller sense if read before or after this, or this, or this; or it might not, or it might both alternately, or it might neither permanently; either way, or not, I am happy to have propagated the name of Shantideva

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

attention wormhole: sunny morning
awareness wormhole: no biggie:
balance & voices wormhole: should is good when / too used to cruise
being & doing & emptiness & realisation wormhole: that
Bodhichitta wormhole: may the supreme and precious jewel bodhichitta … // … take birth where it has not yet done so … // … where it has taken birth may it not decrease … // … but may it increase infinitely
faces wormhole: tag cloud poem VII – form new freedom:
giving wormhole: the utter beauty of giving when receiving
identity & living & sky & speech & talking wormhole: Plumstead – Woolwich 121114
meditation wormhole: posture
posture wormhole: smiling
practice wormhole: poessay IX – … just saying, is all II
Shantideva wormhole: multifarious: the Dark Knight Returns (1986)
sitting wormhole: there are patient listeners
society & words wormhole: Dr Strange III – the needs of billions

 

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posture

09 Wednesday Jul 2014

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

2013, 7*, appearance, being, Buddha, distraction, doing, emptiness, growth, hands, meditation, moment, posture, sitting, statue, time

 

 

 

                after a crap meditation
                following inclinations
                all over the place
                I glance at the buddha statues
                all of them ever showing themselves
                fresh from emptiness
                            fresh from emptiness
                                      in
                                                                      ea
                ch
                            pa
                                                   rt
                                                   of
                                      ea
                                                   ch
                            mo
      me
                                                                      nt

                left hand eternally poised
                            in uncompounded being
                                      naturally
                right hand just reaching down
                            to complete the action
                                      as needed

                                                   well

                                      at least I kept my posture

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

being wormhole: there
Buddha & doing wormhole: the Buddha head in an antique shop
distraction wormhole: first a mishap then clear vision
emptiness wormhole: letter 080514
hands wormhole: plethora: the Dark Knight Strikes Again (2002)
meditation wormhole: may the supreme and precious jewel bodhichitta … // … take birth where it has not yet done so … // … where it has taken birth may it not decrease … // … but may it increase infinitely
posture & sitting wormhole: open window
time wormhole: letters to Mum I – a walk / and talk

 

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may the supreme and precious jewel bodhichitta … // … take birth where it has not yet done so … // … where it has taken birth may it not decrease … // … but may it increase infinitely

18 Friday Apr 2014

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

2013, 8*, being, Bodhichitta, breathing, circular poem, colour, difficulty, distraction, doing, eyes, identity, jewel, letting go, life, lost, meditation, prayer, putting out, seeing, self, singing, sitting, stone, talking to myself, tired, voices, Woodbrooke

                             difficulty comes
                        unfitting perfectly to
                          each situation

may the supreme and precious jewel bodhichitta …

                                                                                    t
                                                                                          i
                                                          a big fat ball                  r
                                         all I see is                       with odd       e
                                    or above it                              spicy bits       d
                                        round it                              fills up
                                        I can’t see                       my being
                                                        closes my eyes

… take birth where it has not yet done so …

                                 the fuzz and static
      drowned out by                                 and the tiny shiny
        before being                                      coloured stones
of determination                                          mixed in and
         sing a voice                                       mostly lost which
             surface and                                 sometimes
                                      work to the

                                                                        is not me
                                                                        is not the self
                                                                        standing sitting or sleeping
                                                            and always always breathing

… where it has taken birth may it not decrease …

                                                                        I can’t put out
                                                            I miss the point or miss the opportunity
                                                                        every time I venture
                                                or hold back

                                                                        I have loads to offer
                                                            but no receptacle
                                                            far better to sit
                                                improve my aim

… but may it increase infinitely

                                                                                    I get so much more
                                                                                    done by just being
                                                                                    without knowing it
                                                                                    without knowing –
                                                                                    even – about it

                                                                                    I think I’ll just
                                                                                    offer my being
                                                                                    from now on
                                                                                    and not try to
                                                                                    do anything to be

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

being & breathing & doing wormhole: doing
circular poem wormhole: the Avengers
distraction wormhole: open window
eyes & identity wormhole: vagued
letting go & talking to myself wormhole: multifarious: the Dark Knight Returns (1986)
life wormhole: my life is not your market
meditation wormhole: only
seeing wormhole: heavy load
sitting wormhole: gazing at the night / as my eyes passed the jagged hole / my head disappeared
stone wormhole: quest in brown
voices wormhole: still there // above the / Dallin Road / allotments / looking high over the river and the city

 

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← Older posts

… Mark; remember …

"... the impulse to keep to yourself what you have learned is not only shameful; it is destructive. Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you. You open your safe to find ashes." ~ Annie Dillard

pages coagulating like yogurt

  • Bodhisattvacharyavatara
    • Chapter 1
    • Chapter 10
    • Chapter 2
    • Chapter 3
    • Chapter 4
    • Chapter 5
    • Chapter 6
    • Chapter 7
    • Chapter 8
    • Chapter 9
    • Introduction
  • collected works
    • 25th August 1981 – count Up
    • askance From Hell
    • Batman
    • Bob 1995-2012
    • David Bowie Movements in Suite Major
    • Edward Hopper: Poems at an Exhibition
    • Eglinton Hill
    • FLOORBOARDS
    • Granada
    • in and out / the Avebury stones / can’t seem to get / a signal …
    • Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters]
    • Miller’s Batman
    • mum
    • nan
    • Portsmouth – Southsea
    • Spring Warwick breezes / over Bacharach fieldwork and boroughs with / the occasional shift and chirp of David / in the pastel-long morning of the sixties
    • The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford
    • through the crash
  • index
    • #A-E see!
    • F–K, wha’ th’
    • L-P 33 1/3 rpm
    • Q-T pie
    • U-Z together forever
  • me
  • others
  • poemics
  • poeviews
  • teaching matters
  • William Carlos Williams
  • wormholes

recent leaks …

  • “…and may the great elements…”
  • paisley // implicitly
  • this pocketed being
  • the inevitable tock // when we close our eyes
  • time
  • the simple prayer // the tattered poem // the bitter lament
  • taking birth
  • mirror
  • long / road
  • ‘in my car I pass…’

Uncanny Tops

  • me
  • Moebius strip
  • YOUNG WOMAN AT A WINDOW by William Carlos Williams
  • 'in my car I pass...'
  • 'the practice ...'
  • 'I can write ...'
  • like butterflies on / buddleia
  • meanwhile
  • 'hello old friend ...'
  • under the blue and blue sky

category sky

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