Today I Wrote About Nothing

All all the trees go piff
all all the rocks go paff
all all of nature poof.
Daniil Kharms (from Today I Wrote Nothing)

If at first an idea isn't absurd, There's no hope for it.
Albert Einstein

...all in all, doing nothing’s a lot easier when I’m supposed to be doing something...particularly if I have a precise idea of what that something's supposed to be...then I know just what to ignore...(even if I can never really ignore it completely)...and if it’s something I really don’t feel like doing...or, better yet, a whole bunch of things I don’t feel like doing...which, alas, is the case most of the time...almost anything can serve as a distraction...and the hours go by like...nothing...

...but seriously doing nothing...focusing on doing nothing...doing nothing with a sense of purpose...with discipline...that’s a different matter entirely...then, suddenly, everything I could possibly be doing instead seems to intrude as if by some kind of deep imperative...check the oil, clean the bathroom, buy some cheese...run for president, get a sex-change, find out what it’s like to eat a whole pocketful of sand...though, of course, if I quit meditating with an imperative to get all of these things done in a timely and efficient manner...most likely I’ll be right back to nothing in no time...

...started meditating again...like, a day or two ago...half an hour a day.......okay, twenty minutes........

Bored?

...hiking at high elevations reminds me of advice given to people who get bored following the breath in meditation...

Take the thumb and first finger of either hand, clamp them tightly over your nose, keep your mouth closed, and notice how long it takes before your breathing becomes very interesting to you!
Jon Kabat-Zinn

...ten years or so ago, was sitting on a rocky beach in Maine reading To the Lighthouse, a novel in which the most commonplace situations are described with stunning color and intensity...making for a beautiful reading experience, though it made me think that, if Virginia Woolf actually experienced passing moments of life like that, without any kind of off-switch...as, I suspect, she did...it’s not hard to to understand why she filled her pockets with rocks and took that last fateful walk into the pond...

There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
T.S. Eliot

...maybe twenty years ago, was backpacking in the Weminuche Wilderness in southern Colorado, just north of Durango, and, one afternoon, was in kind of an...ummm...ahem...altered state....things got kind of intense...way too much happening in mountains or groves of trees or the sky to keep looking at them....so, decided to simplify things....told myself I’m just gonna look at this rock here...nothin’ too intense or scary, there.....except there was...once I bothered to see...

Look: the sun gods, the gods
of fire, dawn, sky, wind, storm,
wonders that no mortal has ever
beheld...
Bhagavad Gita

...boredom, it occurs to me, is really a defense mechanism...guarding our eyes from the truly dazzling nature of everything around us...

Got My Mind On My Monkeys And My Monkeys On My Mind (El Yogi Cynico en Costa Rica Parte Cuatro)

...everything we do is music...
John Cage

... returning from Casa Zen to Punta Coco on the last afternoon, heard unmistakable barbaric yawping of howler monkeys in the trees by the tiny escuela across the street...unmistakable not because I recognized or had heard them before...but since, having heard of them, could imagine no other answer to the inevitable what the hell is that??!!...like a roaring hippo mixed with a cement mixer and filtered through a wah-wah pedal...


...though it wasn’t on the official agenda, managed to wander out every morning straight from bed to sit, legs crossed, back relatively straight, on a folded up towel on the rocks, peering hazily out to the sea for half an hour...though morning yoga was at the ungodly-for-me hour of 7:00 AM...sometimes was out even before the sun rose at around 6:00...on the last morning, when we needed to catch an early morning bus, it was closer to 4:30...with a bright red moon and a shooting star...made somewhat easier by the near-unimpeachable logic that peering out to sea while the moon goes down and the sun comes up is better than sleeping, anyway....

...Zen Buddhists...when not talking about the pointlessness of talking about anything...talk about something called monkey mind...a term which describes the way thoughts go leaping through the leaves and branches of consciousness...so quickly...in seemingly random motions...that convincing them to be still seems close to impossible...and even to calmly follow and watch takes great skill...

...ended up taking nearly seventy pictures up into those trees, in crappy light, of creatures that, like my thoughts, won’t seem to keep still...hoping one or two might come out okay...(now that I think of it, this rather forced metaphor might relate more to writing than meditation...whatever works)...and, like denizens of the deeper recesses, don’t, apparently, want to be seen very clearly...though ever ready to leap out and disturb any seeming calm...

...back home, I’ve managed so far to keep the morning meditation thing going...if a bit later...and just so long as I’m willing to let the monkeys howl...

Philly Street Art Revisited...

...biked out last Thursday from West Mt. Airy...state of illuminated discombobulation...for the first time since last month’s blizzard-like-storm...(that’s what the Associated Press called it...just in case anybody was confused by the all day whiteout conditions and nearly two feet of snow and thought it was an actual blizzard)...into the harder streets downtown...

...ended up riding about ninety-five miles over the past week...which is a lot after not being on the bike at all for a month...and, yesterday, while doing some of that hip-opening, hamstring stretching, bending over the bent legs kinda yoga stuff, noticed that my legs hurt...like, a lot...

...nonetheless, managed to make use of the sunny weather to take some pictures around the city...street art...and the places where I find it...including the stuff that tends inevitably to be in front of it, blocking a clear shot...which, I’ve come to think, is essential, kinda like the random noises John Cage incorporated into his music...

...and often enhances rather than taking away from it...like the painted cloud mixing in with the real one, and tree whose small branches seem in danger of being set afire by the guy’s fingers...

...or the KEEP OUT! spray painted in white right next to the dreaming girl...like a strange, discordant caption...

...movement’s always felt comfortable to me...as countless friends and acquaintances have learned that my idea of walking distance doesn’t necessarily correspond with theirs...maybe part of that is the constantly changing contexts...and the constantly changing meanings attached to myself that go with them...

...of course, sometimes ya just wanna disappear...or, at least, make other people disappear...

...Laura compared meditation to being a passenger...simply watching and enjoying the ride rather than feeling the need to always be in the driver’s seat...I said I guess that's also part of what makes meditation difficult...feeling like I need to get up and put my foot on the gas pedal to drive my life forward...as if it’s not gonna keep going, anyway..

The Cat Story

...was sitting a couple mornings ago...doin’ that daily meditation thing...been pretty good about keeping that up these past three months or so....anyway, the landlady’s cat, Zeke, started meowing like crazy on the stairs just below my door...telling me he wanted to go out...but I couldn’t help him...not at that moment...because I’d just started...had nearly half an hour to go...and I’m trying to be somewhat disciplined about this...so, I kept sitting there...for a minute or so...then two...and the cat kept it up, too...until, suddenly, it occurred to me...wow...I’m using meditation as an excuse to be less compassionate...and I got up, opened the door, went downstairs, and let the cat outside...