tears
The Belgian composer Wim Mertens (born 1953) is an international recording and performing artist who has given countless concerts, as a soloist and with his ensemble, all over Europe, North and Central America, Japan, Thailand and in Russia. He initially studied at the Conservatory of Brussels and graduated in political and social sciences at the K.U. Leuven and Musicology at the R.U. Gent. In 1998, Mertens became the Cultural Ambassador of Flanders.
The awareness of “I” emerges from a reflection of the stream of experiential consciousness that awakens when one becomes aware of being observed by an internalized watcher or seer who is felt but never known. This wavering consciousness, an “I”, knits together streams of memories, thoughts, feelings, and interactions in such a manner that formulates an awareness of continuity, striving, identity, as well as an sense of other.
Buddhist psychology suggests that the personal self that we experience, perceive, and conceive arises from five material and non-material elements: our bodies, feelings, perceptions, thoughts, and consciousness. These five categories of self introduce us to the nature of our being. We are the five and the five are us. Whatever we identify with, whatever we hold to as our self, falls within this collection. Together they generate the whole array of thoughts, emotions, ideas, and dispositions in which we dwell, “our world.”
Buddhism notes that these five elements, neither singly or collectively, constitute any permanent unchanging self, nor is there to be found any self apart from them. Hence the belief in a permanent solid self proves to be a mere illusion as we find a self riddled with gaps and ambiguities that appear coherent because of the monologue we keep repeating, editing, censoring, and embellishing in our minds.
Taking this discussion further, when we hold a rose we see that it also is composed of multiple elements, some tangible – leaves, stem, thorns, petals, stamens – and others intangible – scent, color, memories. If you were to remove any of these constituent parts, would you find an consistent, unchanging entity know as “rose”? As we are unable to find a permanent rose in the absence of any one of these parts, we are also unable to find an enduring rose in any one of these elements.
Contemplating the absence of an enduring and solid rose, is the mental “knowing” of the rose within the dynamics of I, the subject, and the rose, the object. To hold a rose is also to hold in your hand all the elements that make up both the tangible and intangible: the sun, rain, soil, eyes, nose, touch, consciousness, etc.
Thich Nhat Hanh tells us, “When we look at a chair, we see the wood, but we fail to observe the tree, the forest, the carpenter, or our own mind. When we meditate on it, we can see the entire universe in all its inter-woven and interdependent relations in the chair. The presence of the wood reveals the presence of the tree. The presence of the leaf reveals the presence of the sun. The presence of the apple blossoms reveals the presence of the apple. Meditators can see the one in the many, and the many in the one. Even before they can see the chair, they can see its presence in the heart of living reality. The chair is not separate. It exits only in its interdependent relations with everything else in the universe. It is because all other things are. It is is not, then all other things are not either.”
The words of Thich Nhat Hanh invites me to imagine the multiple phenomena present within both the rose and chair—sun, earth, rain, bacteria, worms, horticulturist, carpenter—to list a few. When I explore the elements within the horticulturist, my mind visualizes parents, doctors, teachers, grocery clerks, farmers, machinists, seamstress, etc. To extend this contemplation to the seamstress brings me to consider what elements are within designer labels: silk, bombyx mori, Chinese sericulture, organic nutrients, incubators, glass containers, designers, paper, sewing machines, laborers, mulberry trees, and the person who identifies herself with designer labels.
So…what elements are within a person who has an interdependent relationship with the phenomena of designer labels? If we were to remove all of the elements within labels what or who would actually be removed and what sense of “I” would remain?
What kind of world would it be if she and I came to honor and respect our interdependence with the seamstress, migrant worker, sales clerk, janitor, secretary, unemployed, homeless, negated other, rose and chair? If she and I saw that “I am them, and they are me?”
In summary, I draw upon Thich Nhat Hanh’s writing, “…An awakened individual vividly sees the non-chair elements when looking at the chair, and realizes that the chair has no boundaries, no beginning, and no end.
” …To deny the existence of a chair is to end the presence of the whole universe.
sources:
Thich Nhat Hanh, The Sun, My Heart
B Catherine Koeford, A Meditative Journey with Saldage
images submitted in response to Paula’s photo challenge.
I found myself attracted to these two sunflowers in a fallowed field that borders a trail I walk almost everyday. Since the field is situated next to an apartment complex’s parking lot, it seemed to me that the background would have muddied any image. Therefore, with the aperture value at 5.6, I composed this image following RAJ’s instructions for a technique called “Focus Locking.” First I composed the image with the sunflowers in the center, then pressed the shutter so that the flowers were in focus, and then with a half-pressed shutter I recomposed the image before pressing the shutter fully.
Nikon D750 f/5.6 1/40 300mm 100 ISO
Again
I sneak into your garden
to eat arena berries.
(Please keep yourself hidden
until I go away!)
~Ryokan, cited in: K Tanahashi, Sky Above, Great Wind
During a recent photo walk, I found myself ignoring a “no trespassing” sign while silently rehearsing innocent detail. If I had not been somewhat oppositional, I would have missed this interesting chair being re-weaved by nature as well as a water lily pond and a kingfisher. Much the same as Ryokan, 190+ years ago, I found myself hoping the homeowners would keep themselves hidden until I went away.
The above image, “My Corner of of the World” submitted in response to Ben’s weekly photo challenge is a sharp contrast to the various reports that are coming out of Yemen, “The World’s Worst Humanitarian Crisis.”
The New York Times, reports:
“It’s a slow death…We’re just waiting for doom or a breakthrough from heaven…
“Repeated bombings have crippled bridges, hospitals and factories. Many doctors and civil servants have gone unpaid for more than a year. Malnutrition and poor sanitation have made the Middle Eastern country vulnerable to diseases that most of the world has confined to the history books.
“In just three months, cholera has killed nearly 2,000 people and infected more than a half million, one of the world’s largest outbreaks in the past 50 years
“The [coalition airstrikes have] killed and wounded civilians…bombings have also heavily damaged Yemen’s infrastructure, including a crucial seaport and important bridges as well as hospitals, sewage facilities and civilian factories. …[making] it harder for humanitarian organizations to bring in and distribute aid.
“The United States is also a major donor [of humanitarian aid], as well as a primary supplier of arms to the members of the Saudi-led coalition. Although the United States is not directly involved in the conflict, it has provided military support to the Saudi-led coalition, and Yemenis have often found the remnants of American-made munitions in the ruins left by deadly airstrikes.”
Al Jazeera, August 23, 2017 notes:
The military intervention in Yemen led by the Saudi Arabia’s military has proven to be a “strategic failure” that has killed more than 10,000 people and injure more than 40,000 to date. Yet, a full and official withdrawal is unlikely, “A retreat means defeat…”
All of this leaves me questioning the distractions of the never-ending, on-going political drama from the White House that blinds and deafens me to the unimaginable in Yemen, as well as to the emotional, physical, and relational injury to members of the American military, their families, and Afghanistan civilians in what has become a fading, if not forgotten war, in my corner of the world.
Nikon D750 f/5.6 1/20s 300mm 100 ISO
Within this week’s photo lesson RAJ restates that a successful picture is one where your viewer lingers for a bit. One way of encouraging a prolonged and concentrated stay is through the use of frames that add depth, bring in the context to the story/object, create mystery, and hide unwanted elements within the image.
The quote placed inside this image of daisies with a resting beetle brought to mind a quote, by an unknown author, that spoke to my restless soul. Over the past several years, my travels and relocations have diminished a bit more than I wish; and as a consequence, I feel as though I’ve begun to put down roots as my wings are being clipped.
Shadow Basketball
“Why, any one can make up things,” she said. “Have you ever tried?”
She put her hand warningly on Emengarde’s.
“Let us go very quietly to the door,” she whispered, “and then I will open it quite suddenly, perhaps we may catch her.”
She has half laughing, but there was a touch of mysterious hope in her eyes which, fascinated Emengarde, though she had not the remotest idea what it meant, or whom it was she wanted to “catch,” or why she wanted to catch her. Whatsoever she meant, Emengarde was sure it was something delightfully exciting. So, quite thrilled with expectation, she followed her on tiptoe along the passage. They made not the least noise until they reached the door. Then Sara suddenly turned the handle, and threw it wide open. Its opening revealed the room quite neat and quiet, a fire gently burning in the grate, and a wonderful doll sitting in a chair by it, apparently reading a book.
“Oh, she got back to her seat before we could see her?”
Sara exclaimed, “Oh course they always do. They are as quick as lightning.”
Emengarde looked from her to the doll and back again.
“Can she — walk?” she asked breathlessly.
“Yes,” answered Sara. “At least I believe she can. At least I pretend I believe she can. And that makes it seem as if it were true. Have you ever pretended things?”
~Frances Hodgson Burnett, A Little Princess
Some mornings after a review of the news, I become acquainted with a sense of confused powerlessness wishing for a place to scream…loudly and safely scream into the darkness of despair. Uppsala, Sweden may be that place.
a meditative journey 
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