tao1776

Samhain. All Hallow’s Eve. Hallow E’en. Halloween. Exactly opposite Beltane (May Day) on the wheel of the year, Halloween is Beltane’s dark twin. All Hallow’s Eve is the eve of All Hallow’s Day (November 1). And for once, even popular tradition remembers that the eve is more important than the day itself, the traditional celebration focusing on October 31, beginning at sundown. And this seems only fitting for the great Celtic New Year’s festival. Not that the holiday was Celtic only. In fact, it is startling how many ancient and unconnected cultures (the Egyptians and pre-Spanish Mexicans, for example) celebrated this as a festival of the dead. But the majority of our modern traditions can be traced to the British Isles.The Celts called it Samhain, which means “summer’s end”, according to their ancient twofold division of the year, when summer ran from Beltane to Samhain and winter ran from Samhain to Beltane. Samhain is pronounced (depending on where you’re from) as “sow-in” (in Irela

Boredom is such a strange state of mind; dullness, doldrums... So, I decided to look once again at the "five hindrances" or negative mental states that prolong our state of dis-ease or dukka. As listed in Wikipedia, they are: 1. Sensual desire (kamacchanda): Craving for pleasure to the senses.2. Anger or ill-will (vyapada): Feelings of malice directed toward others.3. Sloth , torpor and boredom (thina-middha): Half-hearted action with little or no concentration.4. Restlessness and worry (uddhacca-kukkacca): The inability to calm the mind.5. Doubt (vicikiccha): Lack of conviction or trust. My first thought was, "Well, I'm screwed." As a man that is entering the August of his years, I sometimes mourn that I will never again know the touch of young love. I've never been labeled an angry man. Those that know me well tell others that they wouldn't like to see it. There are times when I feel that my only sense of satisfaction would come from administering

In the wee dark hours of the night, it is amazing at how well the wind will carry a distant sound. A train, a horn, the bark of a dog. On this quiet night, the wind blew lightly through the trees in a mystical and haunting way. A flutter of loneliness manifested deep within my loins. One could imagine the trepidation of the early New England inhabitants when confronted by the quiet Autumn night and the thickness of darkness that embraced the wood. I could hear the sound of the over 40,000 civilians killed in Iraq since our arrival to liberate them from the dictatorship of Saddam Hussein. (U.N. figures show a steady rise in the number of civilian deaths to more than 100 a day) There have been 3,044 coalition deaths, 2,809 Americans, two Australians, 119 Britons, 13 Bulgarians, six Danes, two Dutch, two Estonians, one Fijian, one Hungarian, 32 Italians, one Kazakh, one Latvian, 17 Poles, two Romanians, two Salvadoran, three Slovaks, 11 Spaniards, two Thai and 18 Ukrainians in the war in

Warm days and cold nights are giving way to cold days and colder nights. I have taken to leaving the fire burn a little later providing with a few coals to work with in the early morning. It is archery season for deer. I have seen a few hunters cross the cart path passing by the cabin. It is somewhat startling as the distance between here and town is close to seventeen miles on the south east and eleven miles to the west. Usually archers will set up stands on known rutting areas and deer paths. Milling about the woods is usually left for those that are pushing deer towards another hunter. The two I saw today looked like mannequins for an LL Bean catalog. And then there is Earle. Yes, Earle. I would have jokingly called him Earle in a stereotypical joking sort of a way that only Yankees like me would get. Almost spit when he told me his name. I told him so. He enjoyed my laughter, even if it was at his expense. Earle is a wiry man of seventy years. As he had walked from the west end

It is the custom in some aspects of Hindu society for the layman to fulfill his or her role in life in each of it's three stages; in childhood, to live, learn and grow and respect the wisdom of the elders. In adulthood, to marry, procreate, be responsible and teach your children as you yourself have been taught. In your elder years, cultivate spirituality and wisdom as your responsibility as parent or child begins to wane. I have responsibilities. I have not abandoned those that depend on me. I am not completely shut off from the world. I am so wonderfully blessed with such wonderful temperatures on this mid October day. Its amazing what one can discover when it is quiet. A quiet reside in a quiet wood helps to cultivate a quiet mind. I recall the phrase from my days of Christian ministry when we spoke of some who were, "So heavenly minded, that they were no earthly good." A meditation retreat has the opposite effect. You come away more observant and more quiet than when

Conditioning is a hard habit to break. The initial trauma of my back injury and all that went with it floods my senses when I have a rough period with back pain. On the one to ten scale, ten being unable to walk, I have known ten intimately. And nine. And eight. And so on down the line. I have not been able to recover beyond a three. Last Friday, I was a seven. I have taken many drugs for pain. I have known the support of a brace and cane. I have used t.e.n.s. Acupuncture, internal alchemy, Feldenkrais and Tai Chi. On Friday, what worked best was good old fashioned Irish whiskey and a muscle relaxant. On Saturday, I worked outside for better than two hours with little reminder of yesterday's pain. The mind's workings are simple yet complex. When my spasms and pain came, my mind rushed to judgement. I could return to years of dire straights. I might get worse. No one to help. Panic, shortened breaths. I stood in the traditional horse stance as best I could and focused on my brea

I awoke Friday morning with the feel of a morning chill upon my cleanly shaved head. After growing a bristly stubble for almost a week, I sat before a mirror and light and shaved the dome the night before in front of a brilliant fire. The cabin has a stove and a fireplace. Although I love the heat, the ability to sit and watch the flame is much enjoyable. I realize that it isn't as efficient but I adjust to the idea that I'll just have to work twice as hard and bring more wood closer to cabin-side before the snow flies. The sun was shining and crows were making their daily pilgrimage that I have come so dearly to depend on. It is a feeling of family and I go with it. As they roost about the wood, I talk to them. I hope that they will come to view me as a friend or at least a curious entity. In an absentminded fashion, I bent forward and grabbed several logs. I felt the surge of electricity across my belt line. I pulled against my usual very tight muscles, and the spasms began.

At my home, we seldom lock the doors. Even when we're away for the day. We're in the middle of a middle class neighborhood where everyone pretty much minds their own business. I suppose a truck could back up and load away and no one would call the police reporting suspicious activity. We're located in the part of town that was once known as "the patch". It was the Irish part of town. Perhaps I do the ancestral spirits of the neighborhood a tribute by my oft loved pint of Guinness. We live in the "Old Sullivan House". As one of Scot-Irish descent on my mother's side, it seems appropriate. Here, at the cabin, in the middle of the wood, I do lock the doors; even when I'm in. I have pondered this sense of insecurity. I was reminded of the old Zen story about a warrior and his troops who stormed the village and found their way into the Buddhist monastery. They beat the priests as they looked for treasure. The captain of the troops was called forward t

I took the west trail into a neighboring little town. It's an eleven mile trek and the nearest place to restock. It's almost all uphill and reveals the greatest variety of New England rocks that I have ever wittnessed in one place. A few towering boulders stand alone and were reported to be meeting places and points of reference for the local Indian tribes. The day was unusally warm and I paced my breath with my stride. The sudden movement on my right side startled me and caught my breath. In an unconscious move, I felt myself position my body in a defensive posture as if ready to engage the unexpected, whatever that may be. Instantly, I relaxed when it proved to be an elderly man, perhaps in his seventies. "Christ! Didn't expect to see anyone out here," he yelled. He explained that he was out setting up his tree stand for the upcoming deer hunting season. When we realized that we were going in the same direction, we fell in stride together. We had some good conve

Pulsus , pulsus , sententia hiberna ventus Sententia professio secus unkind , Ut man's ingratitude....... I have found a pressing need to give thanks. Many of my meditations have begun with my palms together, placed upon the crown of my head, to my forehead and then to my chest, leading to three bows of respect. Thanks to whom? Bow to whom? There are prayers to be found within the bounds of Buddhism. In the west, with our foundation so steadily built over several generations upon Christianity, prayer has for us strong Christian connetation. It is not so with many Buddhist traditions, spared by our belief of a great God upon a throne with his mediator, Jesus Christ. I have struggled with this, as my 9/25 post appears to indicate. So I posed this question to some of Buddhist colleagues at http://www.lioncity.net/buddhism/index.php and found this little gem, among others; http://www.thebuddhadharma.com/issues/2003/spring/forum_do_buddhists_pray.html What say you?

Imagine the countless generations that have viewed, in awe, the full moon in October. On October 7th, we will view the Harvest Moon. The American Indians referred to the full October moon as the Hunter's Moon while some, as the Moon of the Falling Leaves. The cold is deeply settling in and the air is crisp and clean in my lungs. This time of year brings forth a feeling of deep mysticism. The feeling is not unique. It is rather universal. All Hallow's Eve is a time when the veil between the living and the dead is the thinnest according country lore. One could readily agree tonight. I look to nature for sign of what this years winter will bring. Wooley catapillars are nowhere to be found. Squirrels appear skinny and show no sign of a winter coat. Cold came early this year. Confusion rules the day as no definite sign dares to present itself. Leaves are already deep amongst the wood, giving off the smell of musk and decay, providing a rich and healthy forest sub-floor. One can see

There is a deep truth to this statement that escapes as quickly as a held breath. Buddhists have long known that true awareness provides deep insight into this truth. As stated in Taosim, The only constant IS change. Meditation allows one to view thoughts as they arise, linger and then pass as clouds do on a summer day. As the Pagans say, As above, same below. We do have storms. Sometimes they ruin our plans and it rains on our parade. But we begin to learn to stand and flow as in Tai Chi. We move with the change. Advance, retreat, stand. Last night, I came across some very disturbing news. When I retired for the evening, I felt the adreneline cruise through my bloodstream. It is now, very unusual for me to have a restless night. My anxiety was equal to panic and withstood any sense of reason. My practice, as sporatic as it has been since my lay off and subsequent difficulties, abled me to "watch" instead of "react." I saw the clock go to one, and two a.m. and fina