Fukanzazengi

"The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral,
begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy.
Instead of diminishing evil, it multiplies it.
Through violence you may murder the liar,
but you cannot murder the lie, nor establish the truth.
Through violence you may murder the hater,
but you do not murder hate.
In fact, violence merely increases hate.
So it goes.
Returning violence for violence multiplies violence,
adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars.
Darkness cannot drive out darkness:
only light can do that.
Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that."
--Martin Luther King, Jr.

"Today I walked on the lion-coloured hills
with only cypresses for company,
until the sunset caught me, turned the brush
to copper
set the clouds
to one great roof of flame
above the earth,
so that I walk through fire, beneath fire,
and all in beauty.
Being alone
I could not be alone, but felt
(closer than flesh) the presence of those
who once had burned in such transfigurations.
My happiness ran through the centuries
in one continual brightness. Looking down,
I saw the earth beneath me like a rose
petaled with mountains,
fragrant with deep peace."
- Elizabeth Coatsworth, On the Hills

Flower of the Week:

Astilbe, or False Goat's Beard. Each of these is about 2 feet tall, and they're fabulous.

Buddhist Lesson of the Week:

Bed of salmon zinnias

Fukazazengi

We read the Fukazazengi towards the end of service every Thursday, and it always feels a little bit like a chore. It is really rather quite long, and it takes a long time to chant it. Nonetheless, there are still some rather intriguing elements to it. It is written by Dogen himself (the founder of Soto Zen in Japan). It gives his instructions for sitting zazen, as well as why he thinks zazen is important. So sometimes it seems silly to chant how you sit zazen after sitting zazen for a couple of hours, but sometimes people need to hear it again, I suppose. I'll underline the parts that I like. Thus:

The way is basically perfect and all-pervading. How could it be contingent upon practice and realization? The dharma-vehicle is free and untrammeled. What need is there for concentrated effort? Indeed, the whole body is far beyond the world's dust. Who could believe in a means to brush it clean? It is never apart from one, right where one is. What is the use of going off here and there to practice?

Bells of Ireland

And yet, if there is the slightest discrepancy, the way is as distant as heaven from earth. If the least like or dislike arises, the mind is lost in confusion. Suppose one gains pride of understanding and inflates one's own enlightenment, glimpsing the wisdom that runs through all things, attaining the way and clarifying the mind, raising an aspiration to escalade the very sky. One is making the initial, partial excursions about the frontiers but is still somewhat deficient in the vital way of total emancipation. 

Need I mention the Buddha, who was possessed of inborn knowledge? The influence of his six years of upright sitting is noticeable still. Or Bodhidharma's transmission of the mind-seal? The fame of his nine years of wall-sitting is celebrated to this day. Since this was the case with the saints of old, how can we today dispense with negotiation of the way? 

You should therefore cease from practice based on intellectual understanding, pursuing words and following after speech, and learn the backward step that turns your light inwardly to illuminate your self. Body and mind of themselves will drop away, and your original face will be manifest. If you want to attain suchness, you should practice suchness without delay. 

Black-Eyed Susans

For sanzen, a quiet room is suitable. Eat and drink moderately. Cast aside all involvements and cease all affairs. Do not think good or bad. Do not administer pros and cons. Cease all the movements of the conscious mind, the gauging of all thought and views. Have no designs on becoming a buddha. Sanzen has nothing whatever to do with sitting or lying down. 

At the site of your regular sitting, spread out thick matting and place a cushion above it. Sit either in the full-lotus or half-lotus position. In the full-lotus position, you first place your right foot on your left thigh and your left foot on your right thigh. In the half-lotus, you simply press your left foot against your right thigh. You should have your robes and belt loosely bound and arranged in order. Then place your right hand on your left leg and your left palm (facing upward) on your right palm, thumb-tips touching. Thus sit upright in correct bodily posture, neither inclining to the left nor to the right, neither leaning forward nor backward. Be sure your ears are on a plane with your shoulders and your nose in line with your navel. Place your tongue against the front roof of your mouth, with teeth and lips both shut. Your eyes should always remain open, and you should breathe gently through your nose. Once you have adjusted your posture, take a deep breath, inhale and exhale, rock your body right and left and settle into a steady, immovable sitting position. Think of not-thinking. How do you think of not-thinking? Nonthinking. This in itself is the essential art of zazen. 

Dahlias!

The zazen I speak of is not learning meditation. It is simply the dharma-gate of repose and bliss, the practice-realization of totally culminated enlightenment. It is the manifestation of ultimate reality. Traps and snares can never reach it. Once its heart is grasped, you are like a dragon gaining the water, like a tiger taking to the mountains. For you must know that just there (in zazen) the right dharma is manifesting itself and that from the first dullness and distraction are struck aside. 

When you arise from sitting, move slowly and quietly, calmly and deliberately. Do not rise suddenly or abruptly. In surveying the past, we find that transcendence of both unenlightenment and enlightenment, and dying while either sitting or standing, have all depended entirely on the strength of zazen. 

In addition, the bringing about of enlightenment by the opportunity provided by a finger, a banner, a needle, or a mallet, and the effecting of realization with the aid of a hossu, a fist, a staff, or a shout cannot be fully understood by discriminative thinking. Indeed, it cannot be fully known by the practicing or realizing of supernatural powers either. It must be deportment beyond hearing and seeing - is it not a principle that is prior to knowledge and perceptions? 

Lysmachia

This being the case, intelligence or lack of it does not matter, between the dull and the sharp-witted there is no distinction. If you concentrate your effort single-mindedly, that in itself is negotiating the way. Practice-realization is naturally undefiled. Going forward in practice is a matter of everydayness. In general, this world and other worlds as well, both in India and China equally hold the buddha-seal; and over all prevails the character of this school, which is simply devotion to sitting, total engagement in immovable sitting. Although it is said that there are as many minds as there are persons, still they all negotiate the way solely in zazen. Why leave behind the seat that exists in your home and go aimlessly off to the dusty realms of other lands? If you make one misstep you go astray from the way directly before you. 

You have gained the pivotal opportunity of human form. Do not use your time in vain. You are maintaining the essential working of the buddha way. Who would take wasteful delight in the spark from the flintstone? Besides, form and substance are like the dew on the grass, destiny like the dart of lightning - emptied in an instant, vanished in a flash. 

Please, honored followers of Zen. Long accustomed to groping for the elephant, do not be suspicious of the true dragon. Devote your energies to a way that directly indicates the absolute. Revere the person of complete attainment who is beyond all human agency. Gain accord with the enlightenment of the buddhas; succeed to the legitimate lineage of the ancestors' samadhi. Constantly perform in such a manner and you are assured of being a person such as they. Your treasurestore will open of itself, and you will use it at will.

Life at the Center:

The fawn who lives by the yurts

This last week has been a very full one indeed. To start, I was doing "Firewatch" for the week. Firewatch is a job that everybody in the community is asked to do for one week, and it rotates throughout the community. The job itself is essentially putting Green Gulch to bed. You walk around with "clackers" (two blocks of wood you knock together) and make sure that all of the doors that should be closed are closed, all of the lights that should be off are off, and all of the lights that should be on are on. It really is sort of a fun thing to do, but you start at 9 p.m. and are done by around 9:30 p.m. (which is rather late when you regularly are asleep by at least 9 p.m.) If you're doing Firewatch you don't need to go to the first period of zazen in the morning, which means that hypothetically you can sleep in 50 minutes later than you would normally. However, as I share a living space with 2 other people, both of whom get up for the first period, it's hard to restfully sleep an extra hour. Dominic, a farmer and co-yurt dweller (not in my yurt, but you know, the boys' yurt,) suggested that I spend those extra 50 minutes in the morning taking-in an early morning sauna and shower, and spending some extra time stretching. I took him up on his suggestion and found it to be quite the lovely way to start the day--it made the zazen I did sit in the morning quite nice (i.e. I wasn't struggling to stay awake the whole time).

It was also a tiring week just because I worked a whole lot (in comparison to normal). Juniper was on vacation for the first part of the week, and Rebecca and Marie weren't feeling well, so that left just Claudia and myself in the garden a lot. And, as Claudia is the manager and has important managerial things to attend to off-site a lot, that actually meant it was just me in the garden a lot. Which I rather liked most of the time because I could talk out-loud to the flowers and quails and bunnies without anybody feeling uncomfortable by it (well, the quails and bunnies might have, I suppose I don't really know.)

Lovely blooming oregano

On Thursday I led a tour in the garden for a group of kids from Squash Drive, an after-school program in which kids play squash. Dominic used to work for them, and he organized the group coming out. I have given tours to a fair amount of groups by now, though, so it was just same-old same-old. My favorite part of the tour is teaching the kids about bees, because most of the kids tend to have a fear of bees, and I like to see if I can convert a few of them onto the pro-bee team by the end. I've told a lot of people around here this already, but for me the tours are worth it if I can get just one kid excited about bees. In the Squash Drive group I had a girl tell me, after I said to her that "I love bees," that she "loves bees now, too," which made my day and probably my whole week.

Bees are really cool, in case you all don't know. We have an apiary here where you can open a latch and look into a little window where you can see into the hive, which is really what sells the kids, I think.

Also, I mean, bumblebees. They have the word "bumble" in they're name, for crying out loud. They're so pleasant and fuzzy. They're like the friendly big dogs of the bee world…and I love big dogs.

I think I should also talk about all of the classes I'm taking right now, because I haven't really done so yet.

Pears growing in the garden

On Sunday mornings all of the apprentices are expected to take a class on the Heart Sutra, taught by Catherine (who taught my writing class a few months ago.) It's actually pretty interesting so far. Up to this point we've mostly just been reviewing the skandhas, which are a central component to the Heart Sutra (we had a class on the skandhas before this class on the Heart Sutra...you can read my post about the Heart Sutra here, if you're interested.)

On Monday nights I am taking a class taught by Doris (who taught my class on the Four Noble Truths a few months ago) about our Male and Female ancestors within the Zen lineage. It's actually been hard for us to study very much of anything about the female ancestors, just because there was never very much written about them (patriarchy!) So far one of the most interesting things I've learned in that class is that Dogen, who founded Soto Zen and Eiheiji Temple in Japan, considered women to be equal to men in their capacity as students and teachers, and he had several women who he held in high esteem around him as his students. However, Eiheiji today does not allow women to practice there.

On Tuesday night I am taking a class taught by Sonja, the Guest Student Manager, about the life of the Buddha. The class is called "Buddha is as Buddha does," and Sonja is really structuring the class in a way that we explore what it actually means to live as a Buddha today, or really how we can take the lessons the Buddha learned throughout his life and enlightenment and apply them to our own lives and our own practice. It has been very interesting, I think, and it is an exploratory outlet for me in much the same way that the writing class was. Sonja is having us memorize the Five Rememberances, which are as follows:
I am of the nature to grow old.
There is no way to escape growing old.
I am of the nature to have ill-health.
There is no way to escape having ill-health.
I am of the nature to die.
There is no way to escape death.
All that is dear to me and everyone I love
are of the nature to change.
There is no way to escape being separated from them.
My actions are my only true belongings.
I cannot escape the consequences of my actions.
My actions are the ground on which I stand.

The "unicorn" buck who lives by the yurts
(he only has one antler)

We have a hard time remembering them, so it was suggested that we chant them every class, which we just started doing. Sonja is often asking us to try to pay attention to and meditate on some aspect of our practice each week. As my large meditation and practice focus during my time here thus far has been "acceptance", I have been focusing on that, on what it means to really, fully, and tangibly live in acceptance. To me, it's a step beyond patience, which seems to indicate that there are still feelings of malcontent, but they're just being repressed. Living with acceptance to me means that I look at things as they are and love them as they are, even if it is against my conditioning or higher logic to do so sometimes. It also does not mean complacency--it does not mean an idle or passive approach to living in the world. It does not involve repression in and of itself through forcing myself to "go with the flow" or whatnot. To me, it means accepting that I'm angry, or embarrassed, or frustrated, or depressed, or anxious, and then exploring that feeling, and loving it (which is not easy a lot of the time, but it is a further effort on my part to not meet negativity with negativity.)

Pink dahlia!

On Wednesday night our abbess Fu treated us to a rather thought-provoking and needed Dharma Talk on violence, which has obviously been on my mind lately, as well as on the minds of most people in this country lately...and for many people who experience life in a much different way than I do, it is something that is present throughout their lives, every day. She started out the talk by discussing why she doesn't present incense to one of the figures on her way to the zendo when she is officiating the service; the figure is a Chinese war general whose name I don't remember, and he carries a bludgeon. His job is to watch over the temple. She talked about how, at one point, she became very uncomfortable with all of the weapon imagery used in zen, such as the sword of wisdom that slices through delusion. This figure is another example of how violence is subtly integrated into our practice, even though one of the main emphases in our practice is non-violence. However, she also talked about how it would be delusional for us to not realize that violence, in reality, does give us some measure of safety and protection, in the form of the police (for us), our military, our nuclear bombs. She talked about how if we were to abstractly honor what protects our temple every day for service, we might as well offer incense to an image of a nuclear bomb instead of a Chinese war general from who-knows-when, as that is what is actually giving us some degree of protection here.

She also discussed the book Zen at War, which is a collection of various sources originating from Zen temples that were not only condoning violence and warfare, but actually encouraging it. She quoted one piece of propaganda in particular, in which an abbott from a zen monastery in Japan during World War II was encouraging kamikaze pilots by assuring them that giving up their life freely for a greater cause was a form of enlightenment. Fu made a poignant point that such promises have been made by many religious institutions throughout time in order to encourage their practitioners to give up their lives in war; a similar promise was made to the young men who flew planes into the Twin Towers on 9/11...that through killing, through this act of violence, they would achieve freedom, paradise, heaven, nirvana.

I thought this was funny

I thought it was great that she was not only acknowledging the violent state of the world right now, but that she was also completely owning-up-to and acknowledging that Zen, and Buddhism on the whole, are not traditions that are somehow above the systematic use of violence, now and throughout their histories, just as with every other religious tradition. She did not talk about Black Lives Matter explicitly, but she covered a fair amount of other interesting topics, and honestly she's the first person who's addressed any of this on any sort of explicit level in quite some time, so I'm just really glad that she did what she did.

After the talk she opened up some time for questions, during which several of the elders from the community, people who have lived and practiced here for quite some time, voiced concerns for her not treating the violent imagery as just that--imagery...which I honestly became sort of frustrated with because I felt that they weren't fully acknowledging the complexity of her point, and the entirety of what she was alluding to when she addressed her aversion to violent imagery, and were instead getting hung up on a minor detail. It is really quite hard to make any sort of change within the hierarchy of our temple and SFZC on the whole; almost every attempt at change has to pass through several layers of committees, and many people on those committees are rather insistent on adhering to tradition, which I also find somewhat puzzling considering the inherent teachings within our school on the impermanence of everything and the importance of non-attachment, but there you go.

Orange crocosmia

On Thursday night a group of us went to the First Congregational Church in Oakland to attend an event that was being hosted there called "Get in where you fit in," and it was for white people to figure out our place in the Black Lives Matter movement. I'd estimate that around 100 people were in attendance, which was great. It was weird and awkward of course, but it was mediated very well, and so it was made clear from the get go that it was going to be awkward, and that we had to be patient and compassionate with everybody there and with ourselves. I guess this event was a response to a request made by people within the Black Lives Matter movement for white people to get together and try to constructively figure out a way that we could use our white privilege to help. Something that was made clear throughout the night was that people who experience white privilege are not going to be leaders in this movement, and that it's important for that to be the case. The only thing that we who experience white privilege in this country can do is to serve as support for our friends and loves who identify as people of color in their movement, which I really appreciated.

Here were the predominant suggestions for how we could offer support, in case you're interested:

1. Start conversations: Within predominantly white communities in which we find ourselves, start talking to people about racism and white privilege/supremacy, just to bring awareness to it if nothing else

A reminder Qayyum made and hung above the door
at the Farm/Garden office

2. Offer meeting space: Do you have a space you could offer where POC (People of Color)-led organizations can meet?

3. Pass the mic: If someone gives you the option to speak or present, make sure to include a POC, or to give them the "mic" instead

4. Sow seeds on social media: Educate yourself and others on Black Lives Matter issues, as well as exploring different cultures, races, histories, and places, to eliminate some of your own ignorance.

5. Give your money: Donate to POC-led causes and organizations, including publicizing GoFundMe or KickStarter campaigns

6. Educate your children: Make sure your children know about racism.

7. Volunteer your skills: volunteer for POC-led organizations and causes

8. Put your body and your time on the line: Engage in social activist events led by POC.

9. Signal boost the voices and lived experience of POC:  Make sure that libraries and media that you consume are rich with media created by POC about their experience.

Wonderfully zany bed of astilbe!

We are planning on using the time usually allocated in the community for a movie night to listen to a Dharma Talk that was given by angel Kyodo Williams about the Black Lives Matter movement, which is a start. Williams is a black Zen priest who has written several books about race and the dharma, including Being Black and Radial Dharma. We were talking about also getting a mediator like the ones that led the event in Oakland to come to Green Gulch and lead a similar conversation within our community about how our sangha could be more inclusive and helpful in this cause, but that might take a long time to actually happen (because of the aforementioned levels of bureaucracy that come with any decision around here, as well as the aforementioned tendency for some members of our community to prefer traditional ways of doing things, of not liking to rock the boat too much.)

There is a sentiment that is held by many people within the Zen tradition (not only here in SFZC, but in Japan and around the world and throughout time as well) that priests, monks, and practitioners in general should not be activists, out there causing rabble and instigating unrest; instead we should just work on best improving ourselves, and through that change will come about. However, this doesn't make sense to me...it seems to me that a desire to be engaged and working for social justice and tangibly working towards the end of the suffering of beings should be the change that we seek to have within ourselves. We should be the change we wish to see in the world; the Buddha, upon his realizations, did not sit alone in his enlightenment, although that would have been easy to do--he realized that fundamentally he could not be enlightened and not seek to help others find the path as well. Such is practicing here--it is one thing to say that we are culminating kindness, compassion, forgiveness, strength, and acceptance, and quite another thing to actually be out in the world being kind, compassionate, forgiving, strong, and accepting.

The fawn :)

On an entirely different note, we had a lovely celebration for my birthday (which is on Tuesday, the 2nd) at the beach last night. It was very, very lovely, and it really meant a lot to me to feel so loved and supported by my family here. 

Pink Japanese anemone

Today we had our last class with Wendy Johnson. She's going to be teaching another class in the fall on Buddhism and Ecology, which I'm really looking forward to. I missed the 2nd and 3rd class of this 4-class series, which I feel rather bad about, but at least I was able to make it to this last one. I fall in love with Wendy all over again every time I hear her speak. She is undeniably wise and magnificent, and speaks in poetry. She is so reverent, and has a quiet grace and deep knowledge about how sad the world is and how lovely it is at the same time. She is, I'm fairly certain, the most respectful person I've ever met. She really looks at everything she sees; she speaks to everything and listens to it in return: the soil, the water, the grass, the flowers, the vegetables, the animals, the trees, and of course, the people. She is glorious.

Listening to her speak actually inspired some poetry in me, something I haven't really felt in quite some time. I found myself writing a poem while she was speaking at one point during the class, and then on my way walking to dinner tonight I felt inspired to write another. They're pretty similar, but they're expressing different things, I feel. I'll post them at the end of the post, if you're interested.

I am continually struck by how completely beautiful the people in my life are, in every way. How completely beautiful every person is, if you give them enough time to reveal it to you. How everybody has some awe-inspiring delusion and fortitude and peace and rage that fold together to create the most magnificent art I could ever experience--how loving each other is the purest way to experience all that we are in our short lives. I am so fortunate to be able to love so many people, to have so many people who let me love them.

A Sunflower right next to a Teddy Bear Sunflower

Book of the Week:

The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss

So a little while ago I was anonymously gifted a book in my mailbox by a lovely secret friend. Of course, I could not just sit in the nice mystery of it all, and spent a large part of my interactions for that following week asking people if they gave me a book, to which almost everybody here responded "no...or I don't think so. Did I?" To which I'd respond "You'd know if you gave me this book."
Anyways, I eventually found out it was my friend Jack (who also gave me a delightful Boston Cream Pie for my birthday.) That book was this book, which is a super fun fantasy novel. Once it was out in the open that Jack gave me the book, he asked me every day if I had started it yet, and it took me a while, but eventually I started it if only for the reason that he would no longer have to keep asking me if I had started it yet. Anyways, I love it, it's very engaging, well-written, and all-around a great escape from my consistent analysis of my life and my surroundings. I definitely suggest it if you like fantasy, or if the only fantasy you really know is Lord of the Rings...this fits nicely with LOTR (without being the same thing as it).

Songs of the Week:

So...I don't want to brag too much, but I recently got to meet Merrill Garbus of tUnE-yArDs in person, and she was pretty chill. I didn't know who she was at first, and eventually it came out that she was a musician and her band was called tUnE-yArDs (that's how they spell it, that's not me being weird), and it took me a second, but then I totally did a mini-freak out...but I think she enjoyed it. She laughed and smiled very large when I started going "oh my goodness, this is awesome!" So, I thought it would be fitting to highlight Merrill's music for this week ('cause, you know, we're tight now.) Without further ado:

"Water Fountain"

NO WATER IN THE WATER FOUNTAIN.

NO SIDE ON THE SIDEWALK.

IF YOU SAY OLD MOLLY HARE, WHATCHA DOIN’ THERE?

NOTHING MUCH TO DO WHEN YOU’RE GOING NOWHERE

WOOHAW! WOOHAW! GOTCHA.

WE’RE GONNA GET THE WATER FROM YOUR HOUSE.

NO WATER IN THE WATER FOUNTAIN

NO WOOD IN THE WOODSTOCK.

AND YOU SAY OLD MOLLY HARE, WHATCHA DOIN’ THERE?

NOTHING MUCH TO DO WHEN YOU’RE GOING NOWHERE

WOOHAW! WOOHAW! GOTCHA.

WE’RE GONNA GET THE WATER FROM YOUR HOUSE.

NOTHING FEELS LIKE DYING LIKE THE DRYING OF MY SKIN AND LAWN.

Cascade of crocosmia, encroaching

WHY DO WE JUST SIT HERE WHILE THEY WATCH US WITHER TIL WE’RE GONE?

I CAN’T SEEM TO FEEL IT

I CAN’T SEEM TO FEEL IT

I CAN’T SEEM TO FEEL I’LL KNEEL

I’LL KNEEL I’LL KNEEL THE COLD STEEL

YOU WILL RIDE THE WHIP, YOU’LL RIDE THE CRACK

NO USE IN FIGHTING BACK

YOU’LL SLEDGE THE HAMMER IF THERE’S NO ONE ELSE TO TAKE THE FLAK

I CAN’T SEEM TO FEEL IT

I CAN’T SEEM TO FIND IT

YOUR FIST CLENCHED MY NECK WE’RE NECK AND NECK…

NO WATER IN THE WATER FOUNTAIN.

NO PHONE IN THE PHONE BOOTH.

AND YOU SAY, OLD MOLLY HARE, WHATCHA DOIN’ THERE?

JUMP BACK, JUMP BACK DADDY SHOT A BEAR

Self-seeding sunflower the popped up

WOO-HAW! WOO-HAW! GOTCHA.

WE’RE GONNA GET THE WATER FROM YOUR HOUSE.

I saved up all my pennies and I gave them to this special guy

When he had enough of them he bought himself a cherry pie

He gave me a dollar

A blood-soaked dollar

I cannot get the spot out but

IT’S OKAY IT STILL WORKS IN THE STORE

GREASY MAN COME AND DIG MY WELL

LIFE WITHOUT YOUR WATER IS A BURNING HELL

STUFF ME UP WITH YOUR HOME GROWN RICE

ANYTHING MAKE ME SHIT NICE

SE POU ZANMI MWEN, SE POU ZANMI MWEN

AND A TWO-POUND CHICKEN TASTES BETTER WITH FRIENDS

A TWO-POUND CHICKEN TASTES BETTER WITH TWO

AND I KNOW WHERE TO FIND YOU

Teddy Bear Sunflower

LISTEN TO THE WORDS THAT I SAID

LET IT SINK INTO YOUR HEAD

A VERTIGO ROUND-AND-ROUND-AND-ROUND

NOW I’M IN YOUR BED

HOW DID I GET AHEAD?

WHOOP! THREAD YOUR

FINGERS THROUGH MY HAIR

FINGERS THROUGH MY HAIR

GIVE ME A DRESS, GIVE ME A PRESS, I GIVE A THING A CARESS

WOULD-JA? WOULD-JA? WOULD-JA?

LISTEN TO THE WORDS I SAY!

SOUND LIKE A FLORAL BOUQUET

A LYRICAL ROUND-AND-ROUND AND ROUND AND ROUND

(OK)

TAKE A PICTURE IT’LL LAST ALL DAY

RUN YOUR FINGERS THROUGH MY HAIR

DO IT TIL YOU DISAPPEAR

GIMME YOUR HEAD

GIMME YOUR HEAD

OFF WITH HIS HEAD

HEY HEY HEY HEY

"Powa"

Wait, honey honey

Wait, honey honey

A fabulous arrangement Juniper made

I will never get to sleep

Rebel, rebel, no

I can never get to sleep

I'm a rebel, rebel, no

Hold me til I get to sleep

Oh baby bring me home to bed

Rebel, rebel, no

Lightning dances in my head

Devil, devil, whoa, oh, oh

Burning steady as a motor

Not a pebble, pebble

Baby, bring me home to bed

I need you to press me down

before my body flies away from me

Your power

Inside

It rocks me like a lullaby

Your power

Inside

White Japanese anemone

It rocks me like a lullaby

Your power

Inside

Oh baby, I just don't know why

Your power inside

Your power inside

Waiting for you

Hurry up

Mirror, mirror on the wall

Can you see my face at all?

My man likes me from behind

Tell the truth I never mind

'Cause you bomb me with lies,

humiliations everyday

You bomb me so many times

I never find my way

Come on and bomb me

Why won't you bomb me?

Come on and bomb

Go on and whoa,

oh, ah woah, ah

Yellow buddleia

oh, ooh, oh

Your power

Inside

It rocks me like a lullaby

Your power

In mine

It gives me thrills I can't describe

Your face in mine

Oh baby, I just don't know why

Your power

Inside

Your power

Poetry:

Inspired by the Green Gulch garden and Wendy Johnson

1.

Meandering, softly

Looking in a deep, real way

Gazing, fully

What is this flower of stars?

Covering memories of stale dust

Stardust

Covering the staggering chasm

Abyss, entirely

Gentle light

Filtering through afternoon leaves

So much more awake than

Those of the morning

So much more tired

Surrounded by blossoms

Expanding, delicately

Reminding us of color

Remembering the vivacity of potential

Growth

Growing, surely

Embracing the wild, raw heart

Experiencing visceral beauty

Reminding us of what it means

To actually be alive

Being, justly

Limbs amongst limbs

Climbing to the clouds

Connecting our field of existence

With the ethereal practice

of the Cosmos

Showering real energy

Down onto this garden

Of circular awareness

Touching, profoundly

All that is and

Ever was

**"wild, raw heart" was something that Wendy said, and I loved it. So, that part of the poem is definitely her lovely, organic, potent words, not mine.

2.

Lying here, in a void
Amongst voids
The starlight pulls
My eyes up, up
Up to the effervescent cascade
Of a delicate nighttime
Laughing, singing
Softly covering my fragile skin
In the sprinkling tingles,
The pure sensation of creeping bubbles
Running along my veins
Enveloping, encompassing
My pale slopes and ridges
Enlightening my shallow
Being with the power
and grace
Of eternity and nothingness
Swallowing my tiny heartbeat
and hugging it close
To this rough world
This cold, warm world
This world of rage and monumental,
Profound, simple, complete
Beauty
The stars whisper to me
"You are nothing but
The culmination of eternal, ethereal
Desire.
You are nothing but
A fractal splinter of
Eternity.
You are nothing but
Stardust,
Same as we."

Song of the Jewel Mirror Samadhi

"God speaks to each of us as he makes us,
then walks with us silently out of the night.

These are the words we dimly hear:

You, sent out beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your longing.
Embody me.

Flare up like a flame
and make big shadows I can move in.

Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don't let yourself lose me.

Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness.

Give me your hand."

--Rainer Maria Rilke, Book of Hours, I 59

Flower of the Week:

Clarkia. Very lovely visually, yet almost no fragrance! We can't be it all, I suppose.

Buddhist Lesson of the Week:

Song of the Jewel Mirror Samadhi

Continuing our exploration of the long chants we sing every week, I thought I would now share one that is not necessarily one of my favorites, but nonetheless has some rather interesting and thought-provoking elements to it. It's long, and honestly, it's full of references I don't really know much about at this point. It's also full of rather beautiful imagery, that again, is probably in reference to something I don't really know much about. As far as I can gather, the "Jewel Mirror Samadhi" that's referenced throughout this is the "teaching of thusness," which, as far as I can gather, is the teaching of "fully living in and accepting every moment as it arises" (at least, that is one aspect of thusness). That could be wrong though...don't quote me on that. I'll underline the parts I like the most. Thus:

The teaching of thusness has been intimately communicated 

by buddhas and ancestors. 

Now you have it, 

so keep it well. 

Filling a silver bowl with snow, 

hiding a heron in the moonlight - 

Taken as similar they're not the same; 

when you mix them, 

you know where they are. 

The meaning is not in the words, 

yet it responds to the inquiring impulse. 

Move and you are trapped; 

miss and you fall into doubt and vacillation. 

Turning away and touching are both wrong, 

for it is like a massive fire. 

Just to depict it in literary form 

is to stain it with defilement. 

It is bright just at midnight, 

it doesn't appear at dawn. 

It acts as a guide for beings, 

its use removes all pains. 

Hiking through the Manzanitas around Mt. Tam

Although it is not fabricated, 

it is not without speech. 

It is like facing a jewel mirror; 

form and image behold each other – 

You are not it, 

in truth it is you. 

Like a babe in the world, 

in five aspects complete;

 It does not go or come, 

nor rise nor stand. 

"Baba wawa" – 

is there anything said or not? 

Ultimately it does not apprehend anything 

because its speech is not yet correct. 

It is like the six lines of the illumination hexagram: 

relative and ultimate interact - 

Piled up, they make three, 

the complete transformation makes five. 

It is like the taste of the five-flavored herb, 

like a diamond thunderbolt. 

Subtly included within the true, 

inquiry and response come up together. 

Communing with the source, travel the pathways, 

embrace the territory and treasure the road. 

Respecting this is fortunate; do not neglect it. 

Naturally real yet inconceivable, 

it is not within the province of delusion or enlightenment. 

With causal conditions, time and season, 

quiescently it shines bright. 

In its fineness it fits into spacelessness, 

in its greatness it is utterly beyond location. 

A hairsbreadth's deviation 

will fail to accord with the proper attunement. 

Now there are sudden and gradual 

in which teachings and approaches arise. 

Once basic approaches are distinguished, 

then there are guiding rules. 

But even though the basis is reached and the approach comprehended, 

true eternity still flows. 

Outwardly still while inwardly moving, 

like a tethered colt, a trapped rat - 

The ancient sages pitied them 

and bestowed upon them the teaching. 

According to their delusions, 

they called black as white; 

When erroneous imaginations cease, 

the acquiescent mind realizes itself. 

If you want to conform to the ancient way, 

please observe the sages of former times. 

When about to fulfill the way of buddhahood, 

one gazed at a tree for ten eons, 

Like a battle-scarred tiger, 

like a horse with shanks gone gray. 

Because there is the common, 

there are jewel pedestals, fine clothing; 

Because there is the startlingly different, 

there are house cat and cow. 

Yi with his archer's skill 

could hit a target at a hundred paces. 

But when arrow-points meet head on, 

what has this to do with the power of skill? 

When the wooden man begins to sing, 

the stone woman gets up dancing; 

It’s not within reach of feeling or discrimination – 

how could it admit of consideration in thought? 

Ministers serve their lords, 

children obey their parents; 

Not obeying is not filial 

and not serving is no help. 

Practice secretly, working within, 

like a fool, like an idiot. 

Just to continue in this way 

is called the host within the host.

Our group at the end of our circumambulation of Mt. Tam in early April.
This was taken in Muir Woods.

**In case you're wondering, yes, most of us think the "Baba wawa" part is delightfully silly. In case it wasn't clear to you exactly what the heck that was, it is a baby speaking. Often times, when we're having serious conversations around here about the dharma or philosophy, and we reach some sort of impasse or stalemate in our discussion, we can explain everything away with "baba wawa" (ironically) (...although is it really ironic?) (Yes) (...and no. Non-dualism.)

I think my actual favorite part of this while we're chanting it is: "Because there is the common, there are jewel pedestals, fine clothing; Because there is the startlingly different, there are house cat and cow." I take it to mean that you can't recognize something lovely a lot of the time without the contrast, but oftentimes, the contrast is just as lovely. Or something like that. Maybe I just like the image of a house cat and cow hanging out together next to something "startlingly different," with both of them being impervious to it, acting as proper juxtaposing forces (and in my mind the house cat is often cleaning itself while the cow stares questioningly at me watching it...at least as far as a cow can question.)

Life at the Center:

First off, I'd like to say "HELLO!" to my curiously consistent and growing reader-base in France and Russia. I have no idea why so many people from France and Russia are reading this, but I think it's awesome. Although, I suppose I don't actually know that all of the views of this blog are coming from multiple people in France and Russia respectively; it could just be that there's one person from each country who reads this blog many times each week for some reason, in which case, "HELLO!" to the 2 of you.

Also, hello Mom, Dad, and Will! (It's my dad's birthday today, too. So, Happy Birthday Dad!)

Also, hello Steven! Although, I get to say "hello" to you many times a day, everyday, anyways.

I don't really know who else actually reads this blog consistently, but "hello" to all or any of you as well!

I want to say that I haven't had time to take photos this week, but luckily, Qayyum just shared with all of us photos from our circumambulation of Mt. Tam in early April (which you can read all about here!) Those are going to be the photos featured on today's blog. Qayyum gave me permission to post these on here. My first impression of the photos was that we all look so different now, almost 3 months later. To start, I've lost some weight (yeahhhhh) and don't have red hair. Some of the boys have shorter hair, and most of them have longer beards. Look at how cute and innocent we were!

Isabelle, Qayyum, Nick, Myoho, Reed, me, Juniper, Dominic, Steven, Jack, and Clark in front of Nick's
sweet van at the beginning of the hike

I just got out of a truly fantastic dharma talk given by Edward Brown, who doesn't live here anymore, but did for many years. He often hosts one-day sits (not the ones we do, but ones that other people who don't live here do). He was great. Of course, the entire time he was giving the talk, I was thinking, "this is so important, I am going to remember everything he is saying right now so I can put it into my blog as soon as I leave here!" which I think actually did help me pay really close attention to what he was saying when he was saying it, but as things like this tend to go, I can't really remember everything he talked about as much as I wish I could.

Essentially, he was talking primarily about how important it is to live through being your true self. Now, as most people should now hopefully know, Buddhists don't believe that there is a continuous self (i.e. no soul, nothing that could be easily quantified as a consistent entity that is separate from anything and everything around it.) Ed was entirely aware of this, of course, when he was saying we should live as our true selves. He was talking about being honest and true in expressing and acting in our lives as our genuine components of who we are in each moment.

Although, on the ultimate scale, there is no continuous self in Buddhism, it is still widely acknowledged that it would be delusional to state that, practically, there is no self as well. We can all look around and see that there are separate things, separate beings. I am not my neighbor or my dog or my friend (practically). I have my own "karmic" path...my own unique history and series of events that culminated in my particular life at this moment, as does everyone and everything else. Of course, throughout that entire history and path every event only happened because of everything else, but nonetheless, that history and path is manifest. So how do I, Catherine Masters, with my own history and path, truly express the culmination of all that was and is that led to who I am in this moment?

Serpentine Point. There is, in fact, a lot of Serpentine here (the whole ground is covered in it).
This is also where the "driver's seat" of Marin is (that large group of rocks in the middle).

He told a story of when he was living at Tassajara in the 60s and he kept trying to make biscuits, but they weren't coming out quite right. He kept trying new recipes, alternating water for milk, Crisco for butter, etc. trying to make his biscuits come out right. Upon his fifth attempt or so, he stopped and asked, "these biscuits aren't "right...compared to what?" He was basing his biscuits on the biscuits he grew up with (Bisquick and Pillsbury), and the ones he was baking at Tassajara did not taste like Bisquick or Pillsbury. So, he tasted the biscuits again, without expecting them to taste as they did when he was a child....and, they were delicious, of course. They were delicious on their own accord, although they were not what he was used to or expecting.

Reed driving Marin on Serpentine Point 

He asked us during the lecture how many times a day we experience a strong emotion in relation to something that's happening, but really that reaction is not a result of what was happening in that present moment, but instead was a residual feeling? How many times do we feel unhappy, stressed, uncomfortable, angry, annoyed, etc. at something happening, and it has nothing to do with what is happening now, but is only the result of feelings we had that were at one time somehow connected to something similar? How often do we live as a result of our conditioning? How often do we let our mind-state as it manifested in the past overshadow the thusness of our current moment?

I was thinking about some conversations I've had with people here, and elsewhere, and with myself, about when we do something reactive or unwholesome in someway, and we have the thought somewhere in the back of our minds, either during or after the fact, "This isn't me". So many of us know that our true selves, who we are truly, is someone who is good. Every time we do something that we don't feel is "good", we often excuse it, on some level, as having only happened because of external causes. I don't think this is illegitimate: I only shouted at that person because I was having a bad day; really, I am a good person who wants to be calm and quiet and compassionate. I only stole this gum from the supermarket because I am poor and don't think that a large corporation would really need the money for this purchase more than I need this gum right now; really I am a good person who cares about the environment, about my friends, and social justice. I only became addicted to alcohol because I had a series of traumatic events in my life that are hard for me to cope with, or I have a genetic predisposition to addiction; really, I am a good person, and someone who loves animals and loves Jazz music and is tired of being tired.

To understand that most everybody who does not behave as the Collective We thinks they should actually really wants to do the right thing--but due to their own Karmic paths, sometimes finds it hard to--that is a fundamental basis for compassion.

Clark driving Marin on Serpentine Point.

We all have an idea of who we should be. This idea is the result of many different influences; I definitely have an idea of who I should be, which is a result of my parents, my schools, my teachers, my brother, my friends throughout all of the different stages of my life, books, movies, music, poetry, movies, TV, politicians, activists, and many, many more sources. How often do I become upset because I feel that I am not that ideal person? How often do I not truly taste the biscuits I bake?

It is not bad to have goals or ambitions. It is not a bad thing to strive. Life, however, becomes increasingly more difficult and conducive to suffering if we become attached to the potential of such goals and ambitions, and in doing so, miss out on what is happening to us right now, miss out on the potential of the current moment.

This is something that I am not very good at remembering.

I have conveniently provided for myself in this moment a nice segue into discussing my dokusan with Reb Anderson. I was able to see him and speak to him on Thursday morning. It started out with him gently suggesting to me that I was doing my full-prostrations wrong (dokusan starts out with a standing bow to Reb's altar, then three full-prostrations to Reb.) We then sat in silence for a few moments while I collected my thoughts, and I then proceeded to launch into some of my struggles. The first thing I said was, "I've been struggling with feelings of being guilty for my privilege," to which he replied, "well...you are guilty of being privileged." I then started explaining to him a lot of my qualms about living here, practicing here, vowing to save all beings, and yet consciously making no actual effort to effectively, presently, end the suffering of beings. That I wouldn't even know where to start, really, considering my privileged background and the overwhelming amount of suffering that exists in the world (and most of what I talked about in my last post.)

What followed was essentially a personal dharma talk delivered to me, catered to my struggles. I meant to ask him more questions, but ultimately found it unnecessary, for the most part. He talked for a long time, around a half an hour, and throughout his very thorough and thought-provoking address, he happenstantially (or perhaps with great intent) answered my unasked questions.

It is hard for me to fully recount, of course, all that he said to me. I feel that perhaps the most important take away I garnered from it was his suggestion to not worry about seeking out ways to help. Everywhere I am, there is help needed. Everywhere anyone is, there is help needed. Yes, the help that is needed around Green Gulch is probably not as overwhelming as the many people who need help with systemic racism or homophobia, or any such thing, but suffering is relative. I should not ignore the suffering of those around me because I am distracted by what I think I should be doing, of who I could be helping. 

He assured me that the more that I effectively help people, the more people will come to me for help. It's funny, because when I say it, it seems like that would be something to complain about. Like "Gawd, I don't have anytime to do what I want because I keep assisting in the cessation of suffering, uggghhhh." Of course, Reb presented it completely unironically and earnestly--subtext, "you made a vow to end the suffering of all beings. You are coming to me now because you are concerned you are not helping enough. You should want this, to be asked by many people to be of help." I think that is correct.

Dominic driving Marin on Serpentine Point.

He told me it would perhaps be more productive for me to stop worrying about "Why aren't I helping more?" and instead look around me and ask "How can I help now?" 

He told me to not worry about seeking out ways to help, and instead, just wait for invitations to help. He seemed to be sure that such invitations would manifest. I also don't think such invitations are literal--rather, I just need to make sure to live my life with awareness and mindfulness, and although an explicit invitation to help may not manifest, there are surely many (perhaps quieter) implicit invitations. There also might be explicit ones.

He told me that he himself seldom knows how he could best help. He just does what he can when it's apparent for him to do so.

I also asked him what he thought about the demographic of SFZC primarily consisting of privileged white people. He expressed that he wished that it was more diverse, but he himself seemed a little unsure of how to actually best bring about that change. This conversation was more detailed, and also full of interesting insight, but essentially, it's still a systemic issue, and Reb addressed that. He said that, typically, it is people of certain backgrounds and circumstances who can relate to the teachings of Zen and have access to its temples and teachers, and with how our country is organized right now, there are a lot of people, systemically, who do not have access to the means that would perhaps lead them to identifying with this rather technical and abstract religion from Japan. Although, Reb also said he used to host inner-city sits, and people would regularly attend those. He said that's something he hopes to be able to do again in the future.

So, I guess, if nothing else, it was good for me to know that he thinks about these things, even if it is a little bit disappointing that nobody seems to actually know how to address the problem of racism in our country, even within institutions such as ours.

Nick driving Marin.

Last Tuesday we had another Full Moon Ceremony. Anybody from Green Gulch who reads this blog is probably thinking "ah god, here she goes with the Full Moon Ceremony again." I forgot to mention it in last week's post, so I'm mentioning it now--but it's something that is a bit of a catalyst for me. Right after the first Full Moon Ceremony I participated in, I had my first real kind of feeling of panic of "whattttt am I doing here? It's so religious here, and I am no such thing!" This most recent one was my fourth Full Moon Ceremony. I am usually fine with most of the services and rituals around here, but the Full Moon Ceremony has an especially...esoteric feel that I struggle with. Most of the ceremony is done in call-and-response style, where a priest calls out what we are to chant, and then we all repeat what it is that they called out. Most of what we are expected to repeat are vows. So someone calls out to a large group of people what it is they are supposed to promise to do with their life, and then everybody does so. Of course, to many people, it's a beautiful ceremony. To me, it's hard for me to not feel just really creeped out the whole time. The whole thing just screams to me "you're in a cult!" during the entirety of its duration, and I feel very uncomfortable by it. 

I feel uncomfortable because there is a large group of people, all dressed in black, in a dark room, bowing to a statue. I feel uncomfortable because there is an authority figure telling us what to say and do, and everybody does it unconditionally, automatically. Honestly, I also feel uncomfortable because it is so obviously religious, and I am not religious. I can not escape my analysis of my actions. I cannot escape needing a reason to do what I am doing. I like having purpose to my actions and speech. I like living with intention. Which religion can definitely provide to some people, and in man ways, Buddhism has done that for me...but with it's philosophies, and with the sitting...

I don't know, it's probably good for me to release my ego and just do what I'm told every once in a while (?)

Isabelle in a tree at our lunch spot.

I think that if I were to really seriously ask the tanto for permission to not take part in the Full Moon Ceremony, I wouldn't have to to do it. But, really, I think I want to work with this a little bit more. I want to take this part of Buddhism, this element of living here, and use it as a dharma gate to better grow in what I consider to be the actual practice, the actual lessons that I garner from this place---such as acceptance, patience, and respect.

I accept that, to many people, that ceremony serves as an important reminder of the precepts and of what they are here to practice. I am patient with myself in my discomfort of the situation while simultaneously being patient with the service itself. I respect this temple and the teachers here; I respect this institution, because despite (or maybe, in some cases, because of) the highly ritualized traditions that have manifested from the initial teachings of simplicity and the middle way, this is an institution that encourages people to be compassionate, thoughtful, and respectful.

I have not been as grateful for this place lately as I was when I first got here, and that is something that I need to return to. Throughout the Full Moon Ceremony, I legitimized my presence and participation in that service, despite my egregious discomfort, with the thought that it was part of my "rent" for living here. They feed me three excellent meals every day, and give me somewhere to live, give me a community and classes and ready access to wise people like Reb. In exchange, I work for 30 hours a week in their beautiful garden, and practice as they have proscribed.

Jack in a tree at our lunch spot.

It is hard for me not to resist a proscribed form of practice. Zen, in my mind, should be the result of one's own path; however, there is no path independent from the paths of all that came before me in this tradition, of all who practice it now. It would be nigh arrogant for me to believe that I could entirely navigate all of these teachings entirely on my own (and that the teachings are somehow separated from the religious traditions from whence they arose).

Besides, I have noticed a real amount of growth in myself during my time here. I am physically stronger and healthier. I am more relaxed, less anxious. I am more patient, less eager, am less reactive--and all of this after being here for only 3.5 months. So, obviously, all of this has some sort of tangible capacity to actually inspire positive change in people. I can see wisdom manifest here, in the teachers around here, in my peers, in myself. 

When I first really started struggling with SFZC's apparent lack of ambition to actually work towards the end of suffering in the world, I talked to my parents about it. My dad told me that religious institutions have always been a place of refuge, a place for people to escape to, to cope with the suffering in themselves and in the world. It was a place for people to gain composure, to gain insight, to gain a better understanding of compassion, so that they can then go back into the world and better soothe those who suffer. That is their purpose, that is how they end suffering. I simultaneously realize the truth of that (again, that is readily apparent as true to me,) while feeling like there's potential for more. Shouldn't the priests here, people who have been culminating wisdom, empathy, compassion, and understanding for a long time, be out there in the world? Wouldn't such people be the perfect people to effectually work towards the end of suffering? Some of them definitely do go out and take initiative to effectively and immediately end suffering--but some do not, or they only do it inconsistently. Surely there is something more that they can do than just inspire others to make the change that the world needs?

Me hanging out at our lunch spot! :)

But maybe these desires, these ideals of mine, are ignorant. Perhaps the priests and teachers here are only helping where and when they're invited to help, and that's enough. Perhaps they're effectively tasting the biscuits of the moment, to such a degree that it resonates across the world. After all, they are manifesting loving kindness, slowly and surely. If everybody were to do that, there would be no suffering.

But that, right there, is idealism at its finest.

I don't know, I've eaten a lot of sugar today and drank SO much green tea, so my thoughts are fast and erratic. I am not as collected now as would be ideal. But I'm also not uncollected, necessarily.

There's a lot to be aware of, and a lot to process. Maybe I shouldn't even really attempt to grasp it all. Probably. It's distracting, right?

But what if this is my true self? Is it my true self, to be so analytical, or is that a delusion?

I CAN'T STOP.

Hiking out of our lunch spot.

Do you remember the first time you realized you were alive, a la Douglas Spaulding in Ray Bradbury's Dandelion Wine? Do you remember, was it before or after you realized you were going to die?

How often do you realize you are alive, now, after you first discovered the fact?

The day is beautiful and I am inside on my computer. But, I suppose, the day is still beautiful nonetheless.

But I'll try to stop, right now.

Book of the Week:

I have been reading Buddhist Biology by David Barash for the past few weeks. I haven't had a lot of time to read, so it's been kind of a stop and go process. Dr. Barash is a biologist, a buddhist practitioner, and an atheist, so you can imagine that I agree with a lot of the ideas that he presents in the book. He explores how the core dogmas of Buddhism (no-self/emptiness, impermanence, and interconnectedness/dependent co-arising) are supported by most modern understandings in Biology. I've actually touched on some of the ideas he presents in his book in this blog, which I think is prettttty neat. You'll have to excuse the introduction to the book, or at least I found it necessary to do so, because he spends a long time asserting just how Atheist he is and how much of a scientist he is, and how he doesn't believe in anything superstitious or supernatural, etc. etc. I agree with most of all that he said, but I also feel he does it a little indelicately; however, it might be necessary in order to weed out the people who want to see supernatural elements legitimized by science.

Songs of the Week:

These are, admittedly, the only songs I really know by the band Built to Spill; however, I was listening to them the other day and I thought that both of them have some ideas pertinent to what I've been suggesting/grappling with here. The first one, "Goin' Against Your Mind", has one of my most favorite song lyrics in it--it's something I feel wonderfully describes me in many ways. I'll underline which one it is below.

Built to Spill--"Goin' Against Your Mind"

People think we don't understand

What it takes to wanna be a man

I don't care much for that

I don't know why

Just a fight or just a waste of time

Hiding things that no one wants to find

I don't know much of that

I don't care why

Goin' against your mind, goin' against your mind

When I was a kid I saw a light

Floating high above the trees one night

Thought it was an alien

Turned out to be just God

If you're not sure who not to believe

Who has better reasons to deceive?

They're really good at that

That's all they do

Goin' against your mind, goin' against your mind

And we won't share

No, we won't share

Built to Spill--"When Not Being Stupid is Not Enough"

When not being stupid

is not enough

When not being wrong 

is not enough

Waited such a long time 

Have I waited too long? 

In a world that's so bad,

It's not hard to feel good-

You do what you have to, 

Not as much as you could.

Just because you're not wrong, 

Doesn't mean that you're right.

When not being stupid

is not enough

When not being evil

is not enough

You look all around you,

Never look up at the stars