A Year of Rumination

May 22, 2016 at 12:57 pm Leave a comment

and few words will lead, I think, to more.  This region is due for heavy earthquakes and I live on a semi-dormant volcano, however, and I am not only mortal I’m taking a (prescribed) heavy overdose of prescription drugs (anti-convulsive, internal bleeding and the destruction of joints–in combination with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome Type VII [old nomenclature] destruction of ligaments, cartilage and tendons–in combination with heavy calcification including innumerable spikes.

 

I’m better at controlling pain and at the end of fifty years of thinking about something which no one except (other) zen Buddhists accept as real.  Since I’ve rarely even encountered someone formally in zen I don’t suppose I qualify as a ‘real’ worshipper.  Most of my life I’ve merely been a laborer, although I’ve drawn and carried little water; I have hewed and carried a great deal of wood.  I have no calluses though I have corns, due to EDS.

 

As far as what I thought about let me say this and only this right now;

On Names and Truth

 

What we name

we rarely see, thereafter.

It is as if

language were, itself, a lie.

 

Although that looks like a poem it actually isn’t, methinks.

Samwise Davies

Entry filed under: poetry, social psychology, zen. Tags: .

Honesty and Autobiographies Sounds and Silences

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