thoughts of the forest remained with me all today. even in my gaming. even in my afternoon meditation and then, nap. even now. for some reason i have felt pulled to it for a time now… from the moment i thought about road-tripping again to this very moment.
and, as is usual these days, a random browsing turns up something that is at once surprise, comfort, synchronicity, and … ?. there seems to be a practice known as ‘tudong’ that, upon reading the description, is so close to something i’ve been doing as long as i can recall that is just boggles me. not always by choice, but no less such for it in those times.
another soft confirmation was a transcription of a dharma talk set online… spring of 2006, it-finds-me-i-find-it just now, when it is needed. whispered thanks and a smile to read it. it speaks of the manner in which intellectual knowledge remains a surface thing and why it is impossible to assimilate as such. it speaks of how the process of turning such knowledge inward is to manage more than lipservice. quoting briefly:
There is a qualitative difference between knowledge and attention directed outside.When attention is directed towards the heart, the natural development is mindfulness and wisdom.When mindfulness and wisdom have an opportunity to function freely in our lives, it is natural to turn towards letting go and relinquishment.
yes. this is it. and this, later in the same piece:
Views, opinions and intelligence can easily intoxicate someone who doesn’t do this. Problems in the world often come from intelligent people who don’t understand their boundaries. When a rice stalk is green and unripe, it stands up straight. As it matures and ripens, the stalk bends closer to the ground. The same is true with humans. If we don’t know the difference between intelligence and foolishness, we will be trapped in our lack of understanding. We will stand up straight with pride and arrogance. With true wisdom and understanding, there is a humility and gentleness. Understanding ourselves is central to our practice. To do this, we reflect on natural things within us rather than going for external knowledge. A pot that is empty makes a lot of noise. A pot full of useful things doesn’t make much noise when you bang it.
oh it is a sting. but also a comfort. there are so many ways i am still that green blade. i still cry for meeting others who are as well. fields of young grass, all rustling and brushing and cutting one another. must i always be foolish?
thoughts of the forest roll over me and their memories are like old leaves, soft and torn and decaying, they are musty sweet with their gentleness. when once i roamed such places, i felt it possible to find the way. i sit here and weep softly for how far i so often feel from such things. and for a world where such things become so difficult to reach.
but perhaps it is not the world. i remember the canopy at night and think what are, for me, odd thoughts… thoughts of this moment as liberation and perhaps even a crossroad. is not every moment a crossroad? i think of fallen leaves, ruddy with their autumn passing, and i think of this season’s arrival…. and i think of how long i have waited and i find i wonder why.
something is happening here. Focus. Focus. memories of silent forest and peace are calling. i have too long thought to escape from escape, turning my back on reality for illusion. the mountain camp deserted for this vision of ‘normal life’ that i have always known is anything but so.
something about these memories. something about this moment. something tender this way comes. weary by the crossroad, i sit a time and listen to its approach. come, i think i am ready.