#inplace — Public Fediverse posts

#InPlace 55

The old woman adopts

technology in the hermitary

and prepares to sit zazen

with people from everywhere


This image is from 2019, with no pandemic in sight. She discovers an online sangha and becomes involved, supplementing her local participation and broadening her considerably limited experience.


Each moment of zazen is equally wholeness of practice, equally wholeness of realization for this and for that. This is not only practised while sitting, it is like a hammer striking emptiness; before and after, its ringing pervades everywhere. How can it be limited to a place?

-- Dogen, Bendowa tr. Hoshin and Dainen

#InPlace 55

The old woman adopts

technology in the hermitary

and prepares to sit zazen

with people from everywhere


This image is from 2019, with no pandemic in sight. She discovers an online sangha and becomes involved, supplementing her local participation and broadening her considerably limited experience.


Each moment of zazen is equally wholeness of practice, equally wholeness of realization for this and for that. This is not only practised while sitting, it is like a hammer striking emptiness; before and after, its ringing pervades everywhere. How can it be limited to a place?

-- Dogen, Bendowa tr. Hoshin and Dainen

#InPlace 55

The old woman adopts

technology in the hermitary

and prepares to sit zazen

with people from everywhere


This image is from 2019, with no pandemic in sight. She discovers an online sangha and becomes involved, supplementing her local participation and broadening her considerably limited experience.


Each moment of zazen is equally wholeness of practice, equally wholeness of realization for this and for that. This is not only practised while sitting, it is like a hammer striking emptiness; before and after, its ringing pervades everywhere. How can it be limited to a place?

-- Dogen, Bendowa tr. Hoshin and Dainen

#InPlace 55

The old woman adopts

technology in the hermitary

and prepares to sit zazen

with people from everywhere


This image is from 2019, with no pandemic in sight. She discovers an online sangha and becomes involved, supplementing her local participation and broadening her considerably limited experience.


Each moment of zazen is equally wholeness of practice, equally wholeness of realization for this and for that. This is not only practised while sitting, it is like a hammer striking emptiness; before and after, its ringing pervades everywhere. How can it be limited to a place?

-- Dogen, Bendowa tr. Hoshin and Dainen

#InPlace 55

The old woman adopts

technology in the hermitary

and prepares to sit zazen

with people from everywhere


This image is from 2019, with no pandemic in sight. She discovers an online sangha and becomes involved, supplementing her local participation and broadening her considerably limited experience.


Each moment of zazen is equally wholeness of practice, equally wholeness of realization for this and for that. This is not only practised while sitting, it is like a hammer striking emptiness; before and after, its ringing pervades everywhere. How can it be limited to a place?

-- Dogen, Bendowa tr. Hoshin and Dainen

#InPlace 54

After snow, deluge.

The hut travels a bit

toward the creek, expounding

the first noble truth


Awakening to find trees and fences down, the old woman instinctively checks her pulse, as if to discover how many beats remain. When we are told we are one with the universe, we nod in agreement, but also tend to grab something and hold on.


Of all the waters in the world
The Ocean is greatest.
All the rivers pour into it
Day and night;
It is never filled.

--Chuang-Tzu, tr. Thomas Merton

#InPlace 54

After snow, deluge.

The hut travels a bit

toward the creek, expounding

the first noble truth


Awakening to find trees and fences down, the old woman instinctively checks her pulse, as if to discover how many beats remain. When we are told we are one with the universe, we nod in agreement, but also tend to grab something and hold on.


Of all the waters in the world
The Ocean is greatest.
All the rivers pour into it
Day and night;
It is never filled.

--Chuang-Tzu, tr. Thomas Merton

#InPlace 54

After snow, deluge.

The hut travels a bit

toward the creek, expounding

the first noble truth


Awakening to find trees and fences down, the old woman instinctively checks her pulse, as if to discover how many beats remain. When we are told we are one with the universe, we nod in agreement, but also tend to grab something and hold on.


Of all the waters in the world
The Ocean is greatest.
All the rivers pour into it
Day and night;
It is never filled.

--Chuang-Tzu, tr. Thomas Merton

#InPlace 54

After snow, deluge.

The hut travels a bit

toward the creek, expounding

the first noble truth


Awakening to find trees and fences down, the old woman instinctively checks her pulse, as if to discover how many beats remain. When we are told we are one with the universe, we nod in agreement, but also tend to grab something and hold on.


Of all the waters in the world
The Ocean is greatest.
All the rivers pour into it
Day and night;
It is never filled.

--Chuang-Tzu, tr. Thomas Merton

#InPlace 54

After snow, deluge.

The hut travels a bit

toward the creek, expounding

the first noble truth


Awakening to find trees and fences down, the old woman instinctively checks her pulse, as if to discover how many beats remain. When we are told we are one with the universe, we nod in agreement, but also tend to grab something and hold on.


Of all the waters in the world
The Ocean is greatest.
All the rivers pour into it
Day and night;
It is never filled.

--Chuang-Tzu, tr. Thomas Merton

#InPlace 53

Tramping through unexpected drifts

she finds the hut even more silent

trees fold into themselves

road noises vanish, birds hunker down


Delighting in the quietude, though she finds even the interior of the hut bright enough to make her squint. The old woman makes tea and gazes in wonder at the distant hills. "It's like New Hampshire," she thinks, never having been to New Hampshire. The distant hills remain themselves.


When Layman P'ang took leave of Yao Shan, Shan ordered ten Ch'an travellers to escort him to the gate. The Layman pointed to the snow in the air and said, "Good snowflakes­; they don't fall in any other place." -- Blue Cliff Record, tr. Thomas Cleary and J. C. Cleary

#InPlace 53

Tramping through unexpected drifts

she finds the hut even more silent

trees fold into themselves

road noises vanish, birds hunker down


Delighting in the quietude, though she finds even the interior of the hut bright enough to make her squint. The old woman makes tea and gazes in wonder at the distant hills. "It's like New Hampshire," she thinks, never having been to New Hampshire. The distant hills remain themselves.


When Layman P'ang took leave of Yao Shan, Shan ordered ten Ch'an travellers to escort him to the gate. The Layman pointed to the snow in the air and said, "Good snowflakes­; they don't fall in any other place." -- Blue Cliff Record, tr. Thomas Cleary and J. C. Cleary

#InPlace 53

Tramping through unexpected drifts

she finds the hut even more silent

trees fold into themselves

road noises vanish, birds hunker down


Delighting in the quietude, though she finds even the interior of the hut bright enough to make her squint. The old woman makes tea and gazes in wonder at the distant hills. "It's like New Hampshire," she thinks, never having been to New Hampshire. The distant hills remain themselves.


When Layman P'ang took leave of Yao Shan, Shan ordered ten Ch'an travellers to escort him to the gate. The Layman pointed to the snow in the air and said, "Good snowflakes­; they don't fall in any other place." -- Blue Cliff Record, tr. Thomas Cleary and J. C. Cleary

#InPlace 53

Tramping through unexpected drifts

she finds the hut even more silent

trees fold into themselves

road noises vanish, birds hunker down


Delighting in the quietude, though she finds even the interior of the hut bright enough to make her squint. The old woman makes tea and gazes in wonder at the distant hills. "It's like New Hampshire," she thinks, never having been to New Hampshire. The distant hills remain themselves.


When Layman P'ang took leave of Yao Shan, Shan ordered ten Ch'an travellers to escort him to the gate. The Layman pointed to the snow in the air and said, "Good snowflakes­; they don't fall in any other place." -- Blue Cliff Record, tr. Thomas Cleary and J. C. Cleary

#InPlace 53

Tramping through unexpected drifts

she finds the hut even more silent

trees fold into themselves

road noises vanish, birds hunker down


Delighting in the quietude, though she finds even the interior of the hut bright enough to make her squint. The old woman makes tea and gazes in wonder at the distant hills. "It's like New Hampshire," she thinks, never having been to New Hampshire. The distant hills remain themselves.


When Layman P'ang took leave of Yao Shan, Shan ordered ten Ch'an travellers to escort him to the gate. The Layman pointed to the snow in the air and said, "Good snowflakes­; they don't fall in any other place." -- Blue Cliff Record, tr. Thomas Cleary and J. C. Cleary

#InPlace 52

Han Shan was not young

his ability to scale slick cliffs

in rainy winter stuns her; what

does falling down on her pasture path mean


She sits by her space heater in the hut reading of Han Shan's adventures in a thin robe high in the mountains year round and shivers at the thought. Just getting back to the house after an evening's introspection will be enough adventure for her old bones. Is there anything left in her flashlight's batteries, she wonders. The bridge! That rushing high water! Thus the exurbs become wilderness.


Down to the stream to watch the jade flow
or back to the cliff to sit on a boulder
my mind like a cloud remains unattached
what do I need in the faraway world

--Cold Mountain (Han Shan) tr. Red Pine

#InPlace 52

Han Shan was not young

his ability to scale slick cliffs

in rainy winter stuns her; what

does falling down on her pasture path mean


She sits by her space heater in the hut reading of Han Shan's adventures in a thin robe high in the mountains year round and shivers at the thought. Just getting back to the house after an evening's introspection will be enough adventure for her old bones. Is there anything left in her flashlight's batteries, she wonders. The bridge! That rushing high water! Thus the exurbs become wilderness.


Down to the stream to watch the jade flow
or back to the cliff to sit on a boulder
my mind like a cloud remains unattached
what do I need in the faraway world

--Cold Mountain (Han Shan) tr. Red Pine

#InPlace 52

Han Shan was not young

his ability to scale slick cliffs

in rainy winter stuns her; what

does falling down on her pasture path mean


She sits by her space heater in the hut reading of Han Shan's adventures in a thin robe high in the mountains year round and shivers at the thought. Just getting back to the house after an evening's introspection will be enough adventure for her old bones. Is there anything left in her flashlight's batteries, she wonders. The bridge! That rushing high water! Thus the exurbs become wilderness.


Down to the stream to watch the jade flow
or back to the cliff to sit on a boulder
my mind like a cloud remains unattached
what do I need in the faraway world

--Cold Mountain (Han Shan) tr. Red Pine

#InPlace 52

Han Shan was not young

his ability to scale slick cliffs

in rainy winter stuns her; what

does falling down on her pasture path mean


She sits by her space heater in the hut reading of Han Shan's adventures in a thin robe high in the mountains year round and shivers at the thought. Just getting back to the house after an evening's introspection will be enough adventure for her old bones. Is there anything left in her flashlight's batteries, she wonders. The bridge! That rushing high water! Thus the exurbs become wilderness.


Down to the stream to watch the jade flow
or back to the cliff to sit on a boulder
my mind like a cloud remains unattached
what do I need in the faraway world

--Cold Mountain (Han Shan) tr. Red Pine

#InPlace 52

Han Shan was not young

his ability to scale slick cliffs

in rainy winter stuns her; what

does falling down on her pasture path mean


She sits by her space heater in the hut reading of Han Shan's adventures in a thin robe high in the mountains year round and shivers at the thought. Just getting back to the house after an evening's introspection will be enough adventure for her old bones. Is there anything left in her flashlight's batteries, she wonders. The bridge! That rushing high water! Thus the exurbs become wilderness.


Down to the stream to watch the jade flow
or back to the cliff to sit on a boulder
my mind like a cloud remains unattached
what do I need in the faraway world

--Cold Mountain (Han Shan) tr. Red Pine

#InPlace 51

Home-dyed blue muslin and cranberry thread

stubby fingers advance a millimeter

something something Shakyamuni

eyes cloud over, hands shake


Promising, with thin fabric, to make promises to herself, she takes up the unaccustomed needle. Sew a straight line to represent walking a straight path.


Though there is no space even for needle to enter,
Yet it controls all the mountain peaks around.
It is not unusual for a tiny particle to contain the whole world.
Mt Sumeru enters into a mustard seed and becomes one with it.
-- Songs of Preceptor Naong (1320–1376) tr. Whitfield and Park

#InPlace 51

Home-dyed blue muslin and cranberry thread

stubby fingers advance a millimeter

something something Shakyamuni

eyes cloud over, hands shake


Promising, with thin fabric, to make promises to herself, she takes up the unaccustomed needle. Sew a straight line to represent walking a straight path.


Though there is no space even for needle to enter,
Yet it controls all the mountain peaks around.
It is not unusual for a tiny particle to contain the whole world.
Mt Sumeru enters into a mustard seed and becomes one with it.
-- Songs of Preceptor Naong (1320–1376) tr. Whitfield and Park

#InPlace 51

Home-dyed blue muslin and cranberry thread

stubby fingers advance a millimeter

something something Shakyamuni

eyes cloud over, hands shake


Promising, with thin fabric, to make promises to herself, she takes up the unaccustomed needle. Sew a straight line to represent walking a straight path.


Though there is no space even for needle to enter,
Yet it controls all the mountain peaks around.
It is not unusual for a tiny particle to contain the whole world.
Mt Sumeru enters into a mustard seed and becomes one with it.
-- Songs of Preceptor Naong (1320–1376) tr. Whitfield and Park

#InPlace 51

Home-dyed blue muslin and cranberry thread

stubby fingers advance a millimeter

something something Shakyamuni

eyes cloud over, hands shake


Promising, with thin fabric, to make promises to herself, she takes up the unaccustomed needle. Sew a straight line to represent walking a straight path.


Though there is no space even for needle to enter,
Yet it controls all the mountain peaks around.
It is not unusual for a tiny particle to contain the whole world.
Mt Sumeru enters into a mustard seed and becomes one with it.
-- Songs of Preceptor Naong (1320–1376) tr. Whitfield and Park

#InPlace 51

Home-dyed blue muslin and cranberry thread

stubby fingers advance a millimeter

something something Shakyamuni

eyes cloud over, hands shake


Promising, with thin fabric, to make promises to herself, she takes up the unaccustomed needle. Sew a straight line to represent walking a straight path.


Though there is no space even for needle to enter,
Yet it controls all the mountain peaks around.
It is not unusual for a tiny particle to contain the whole world.
Mt Sumeru enters into a mustard seed and becomes one with it.
-- Songs of Preceptor Naong (1320–1376) tr. Whitfield and Park

#InPlace 50

Quietly hazel roots explore duff

twitching past rotting cottonwood

to sip snowmelt rushing past.

old brain trustingly mimics hazel


With the little dog, she investigates the nearby river. Water flows over stones, never the same water twice, but also never the same stones twice. A hazel tree attends hazel-ness. An osprey hammers the water surface and carries away surprised protein.


Fish and dragons live in the water without being aware
And they move around with the currents and the waves.
Since from the beginning they never left it, they neither gain nor lose,
If there were no delusions, then whence might enlightenment come?

-- Collected Poems of Muuija (1178–1234) tr. Whitfield and Park

#InPlace 50

Quietly hazel roots explore duff

twitching past rotting cottonwood

to sip snowmelt rushing past.

old brain trustingly mimics hazel


With the little dog, she investigates the nearby river. Water flows over stones, never the same water twice, but also never the same stones twice. A hazel tree attends hazel-ness. An osprey hammers the water surface and carries away surprised protein.


Fish and dragons live in the water without being aware
And they move around with the currents and the waves.
Since from the beginning they never left it, they neither gain nor lose,
If there were no delusions, then whence might enlightenment come?

-- Collected Poems of Muuija (1178–1234) tr. Whitfield and Park

#InPlace 50

Quietly hazel roots explore duff

twitching past rotting cottonwood

to sip snowmelt rushing past.

old brain trustingly mimics hazel


With the little dog, she investigates the nearby river. Water flows over stones, never the same water twice, but also never the same stones twice. A hazel tree attends hazel-ness. An osprey hammers the water surface and carries away surprised protein.


Fish and dragons live in the water without being aware
And they move around with the currents and the waves.
Since from the beginning they never left it, they neither gain nor lose,
If there were no delusions, then whence might enlightenment come?

-- Collected Poems of Muuija (1178–1234) tr. Whitfield and Park

#InPlace 50

Quietly hazel roots explore duff

twitching past rotting cottonwood

to sip snowmelt rushing past.

old brain trustingly mimics hazel


With the little dog, she investigates the nearby river. Water flows over stones, never the same water twice, but also never the same stones twice. A hazel tree attends hazel-ness. An osprey hammers the water surface and carries away surprised protein.


Fish and dragons live in the water without being aware
And they move around with the currents and the waves.
Since from the beginning they never left it, they neither gain nor lose,
If there were no delusions, then whence might enlightenment come?

-- Collected Poems of Muuija (1178–1234) tr. Whitfield and Park

#InPlace 50

Quietly hazel roots explore duff

twitching past rotting cottonwood

to sip snowmelt rushing past.

old brain trustingly mimics hazel


With the little dog, she investigates the nearby river. Water flows over stones, never the same water twice, but also never the same stones twice. A hazel tree attends hazel-ness. An osprey hammers the water surface and carries away surprised protein.


Fish and dragons live in the water without being aware
And they move around with the currents and the waves.
Since from the beginning they never left it, they neither gain nor lose,
If there were no delusions, then whence might enlightenment come?

-- Collected Poems of Muuija (1178–1234) tr. Whitfield and Park

#InPlace 49

Once a month long drive

to zazenkai, otherwise

every day no other sound

than wind, or rain, or creek


The old woman's sangha meets monthly (2013-2020) at a rural home an hour's drive from her farm, to spend the day in group practice. She's torn between her habitual hut routine and the notion that Buddhism requires company -- what even are precepts for in the middle of nowhere, alone? But every beloved poem by Han Shan, or Stonehouse, or Ryokan convinces her she's doing real work. As does the rain, as does the moon behind clouds.


Movement isn’t right and stillness is wrong
and the realm of no-thought is confusion
instead the Patriarch didn’t have no-mind in mind
any thought at all means trouble
a hut facing south isn’t so cold
chrysanthemums along a fence perfume the dusk
as soon as drifting clouds start to linger
the wind blows them past the vines

-- Stonehouse (Shiwu) tr. Red Pine

#InPlace 49

Once a month long drive

to zazenkai, otherwise

every day no other sound

than wind, or rain, or creek


The old woman's sangha meets monthly (2013-2020) at a rural home an hour's drive from her farm, to spend the day in group practice. She's torn between her habitual hut routine and the notion that Buddhism requires company -- what even are precepts for in the middle of nowhere, alone? But every beloved poem by Han Shan, or Stonehouse, or Ryokan convinces her she's doing real work. As does the rain, as does the moon behind clouds.


Movement isn’t right and stillness is wrong
and the realm of no-thought is confusion
instead the Patriarch didn’t have no-mind in mind
any thought at all means trouble
a hut facing south isn’t so cold
chrysanthemums along a fence perfume the dusk
as soon as drifting clouds start to linger
the wind blows them past the vines

-- Stonehouse (Shiwu) tr. Red Pine

#InPlace 49

Once a month long drive

to zazenkai, otherwise

every day no other sound

than wind, or rain, or creek


The old woman's sangha meets monthly (2013-2020) at a rural home an hour's drive from her farm, to spend the day in group practice. She's torn between her habitual hut routine and the notion that Buddhism requires company -- what even are precepts for in the middle of nowhere, alone? But every beloved poem by Han Shan, or Stonehouse, or Ryokan convinces her she's doing real work. As does the rain, as does the moon behind clouds.


Movement isn’t right and stillness is wrong
and the realm of no-thought is confusion
instead the Patriarch didn’t have no-mind in mind
any thought at all means trouble
a hut facing south isn’t so cold
chrysanthemums along a fence perfume the dusk
as soon as drifting clouds start to linger
the wind blows them past the vines

-- Stonehouse (Shiwu) tr. Red Pine

#InPlace 49

Once a month long drive

to zazenkai, otherwise

every day no other sound

than wind, or rain, or creek


The old woman's sangha meets monthly (2013-2020) at a rural home an hour's drive from her farm, to spend the day in group practice. She's torn between her habitual hut routine and the notion that Buddhism requires company -- what even are precepts for in the middle of nowhere, alone? But every beloved poem by Han Shan, or Stonehouse, or Ryokan convinces her she's doing real work. As does the rain, as does the moon behind clouds.


Movement isn’t right and stillness is wrong
and the realm of no-thought is confusion
instead the Patriarch didn’t have no-mind in mind
any thought at all means trouble
a hut facing south isn’t so cold
chrysanthemums along a fence perfume the dusk
as soon as drifting clouds start to linger
the wind blows them past the vines

-- Stonehouse (Shiwu) tr. Red Pine

#InPlace 49

Once a month long drive

to zazenkai, otherwise

every day no other sound

than wind, or rain, or creek


The old woman's sangha meets monthly (2013-2020) at a rural home an hour's drive from her farm, to spend the day in group practice. She's torn between her habitual hut routine and the notion that Buddhism requires company -- what even are precepts for in the middle of nowhere, alone? But every beloved poem by Han Shan, or Stonehouse, or Ryokan convinces her she's doing real work. As does the rain, as does the moon behind clouds.


Movement isn’t right and stillness is wrong
and the realm of no-thought is confusion
instead the Patriarch didn’t have no-mind in mind
any thought at all means trouble
a hut facing south isn’t so cold
chrysanthemums along a fence perfume the dusk
as soon as drifting clouds start to linger
the wind blows them past the vines

-- Stonehouse (Shiwu) tr. Red Pine

#InPlace 48

Mornings roll past, putting shadows

in motion. Darkness caresses each

object; each object caresses light.

Old woman's eyes adjust


One of her children, long grown, has left behind a celebratory birth quilt; she spreads it as an altar cloth. In a shallow raku dish she places maple seeds. Moving them from one dish to another, she offers them as "incense;" a mouse accepts the offering. Shadows of ash and cottonwood chase one another as yet another day, amazingly, for no reason she can discern, brightens.


Absolute truth is emptiness of all dharmas,
Hence there is no reason to be obsessed with things.

-- Collected Sayings of Preceptor Baegun (1299–1375) tr. Whitfield and Park

#InPlace 48

Mornings roll past, putting shadows

in motion. Darkness caresses each

object; each object caresses light.

Old woman's eyes adjust


One of her children, long grown, has left behind a celebratory birth quilt; she spreads it as an altar cloth. In a shallow raku dish she places maple seeds. Moving them from one dish to another, she offers them as "incense;" a mouse accepts the offering. Shadows of ash and cottonwood chase one another as yet another day, amazingly, for no reason she can discern, brightens.


Absolute truth is emptiness of all dharmas,
Hence there is no reason to be obsessed with things.

-- Collected Sayings of Preceptor Baegun (1299–1375) tr. Whitfield and Park

#InPlace 48

Mornings roll past, putting shadows

in motion. Darkness caresses each

object; each object caresses light.

Old woman's eyes adjust


One of her children, long grown, has left behind a celebratory birth quilt; she spreads it as an altar cloth. In a shallow raku dish she places maple seeds. Moving them from one dish to another, she offers them as "incense;" a mouse accepts the offering. Shadows of ash and cottonwood chase one another as yet another day, amazingly, for no reason she can discern, brightens.


Absolute truth is emptiness of all dharmas,
Hence there is no reason to be obsessed with things.

-- Collected Sayings of Preceptor Baegun (1299–1375) tr. Whitfield and Park

#InPlace 48

Mornings roll past, putting shadows

in motion. Darkness caresses each

object; each object caresses light.

Old woman's eyes adjust


One of her children, long grown, has left behind a celebratory birth quilt; she spreads it as an altar cloth. In a shallow raku dish she places maple seeds. Moving them from one dish to another, she offers them as "incense;" a mouse accepts the offering. Shadows of ash and cottonwood chase one another as yet another day, amazingly, for no reason she can discern, brightens.


Absolute truth is emptiness of all dharmas,
Hence there is no reason to be obsessed with things.

-- Collected Sayings of Preceptor Baegun (1299–1375) tr. Whitfield and Park

#InPlace 48

Mornings roll past, putting shadows

in motion. Darkness caresses each

object; each object caresses light.

Old woman's eyes adjust


One of her children, long grown, has left behind a celebratory birth quilt; she spreads it as an altar cloth. In a shallow raku dish she places maple seeds. Moving them from one dish to another, she offers them as "incense;" a mouse accepts the offering. Shadows of ash and cottonwood chase one another as yet another day, amazingly, for no reason she can discern, brightens.


Absolute truth is emptiness of all dharmas,
Hence there is no reason to be obsessed with things.

-- Collected Sayings of Preceptor Baegun (1299–1375) tr. Whitfield and Park

#InPlace 47

In late summer this work began;

in another summer she brings pears

and apples to sit and pare

while watching sun go down


It could be objected that the old woman having a retirement income is hypocritical in presenting the half-hermit life as if it were a thing. Her response is that she's suspended by her obligations between the way of a householder and the way of a hermit. Yet there can be value in reflection wherever one is.

[In the first version of this series, this was the closing verse. But in the most current blog version, there are a few more entries.]


Do not look back on the past, nor anticipate the future, but take whatever is brought forth by the present and endeavor to dispose of it as best you can.
—Hung Ying Ming, Discourses on Vegetable Roots (tr. Isobe)

#InPlace 47

In late summer this work began;

in another summer she brings pears

and apples to sit and pare

while watching sun go down


It could be objected that the old woman having a retirement income is hypocritical in presenting the half-hermit life as if it were a thing. Her response is that she's suspended by her obligations between the way of a householder and the way of a hermit. Yet there can be value in reflection wherever one is.

[In the first version of this series, this was the closing verse. But in the most current blog version, there are a few more entries.]


Do not look back on the past, nor anticipate the future, but take whatever is brought forth by the present and endeavor to dispose of it as best you can.
—Hung Ying Ming, Discourses on Vegetable Roots (tr. Isobe)

#InPlace 47

In late summer this work began;

in another summer she brings pears

and apples to sit and pare

while watching sun go down


It could be objected that the old woman having a retirement income is hypocritical in presenting the half-hermit life as if it were a thing. Her response is that she's suspended by her obligations between the way of a householder and the way of a hermit. Yet there can be value in reflection wherever one is.

[In the first version of this series, this was the closing verse. But in the most current blog version, there are a few more entries.]


Do not look back on the past, nor anticipate the future, but take whatever is brought forth by the present and endeavor to dispose of it as best you can.
—Hung Ying Ming, Discourses on Vegetable Roots (tr. Isobe)

#InPlace 47

In late summer this work began;

in another summer she brings pears

and apples to sit and pare

while watching sun go down


It could be objected that the old woman having a retirement income is hypocritical in presenting the half-hermit life as if it were a thing. Her response is that she's suspended by her obligations between the way of a householder and the way of a hermit. Yet there can be value in reflection wherever one is.

[In the first version of this series, this was the closing verse. But in the most current blog version, there are a few more entries.]


Do not look back on the past, nor anticipate the future, but take whatever is brought forth by the present and endeavor to dispose of it as best you can.
—Hung Ying Ming, Discourses on Vegetable Roots (tr. Isobe)

#InPlace 47

In late summer this work began;

in another summer she brings pears

and apples to sit and pare

while watching sun go down


It could be objected that the old woman having a retirement income is hypocritical in presenting the half-hermit life as if it were a thing. Her response is that she's suspended by her obligations between the way of a householder and the way of a hermit. Yet there can be value in reflection wherever one is.

[In the first version of this series, this was the closing verse. But in the most current blog version, there are a few more entries.]


Do not look back on the past, nor anticipate the future, but take whatever is brought forth by the present and endeavor to dispose of it as best you can.
—Hung Ying Ming, Discourses on Vegetable Roots (tr. Isobe)

#InPlace 46

In spring, dandelion and nettle tea,

in summer, mint and blackberry tea,

in fall, chicory and mulberry tea,

in winter, fir and dried vegetable leaf tea


She sees that with the cultivation of a little knowledge, one understands the earth is inclined toward generosity. She reciprocates by treading lightly -- has gardened without chemicals for fifty years, and, to the extent possible for her, used hand tools. She knows she has not been as faithful to these principles as she could have, and that this has not dented the world's problems, but when she goes from garden to zazen, seldom feels that nagging sense of something left unaddressed. It is in the present moment, and only there, that there can be this simplicity.


Sacred refers to that which helps take us (not only human beings) out of our little selves into the whole mountains-and-rivers mandala universe.
--Gary Snyder, The Practice of the Wild 94

#InPlace 46

In spring, dandelion and nettle tea,

in summer, mint and blackberry tea,

in fall, chicory and mulberry tea,

in winter, fir and dried vegetable leaf tea


She sees that with the cultivation of a little knowledge, one understands the earth is inclined toward generosity. She reciprocates by treading lightly -- has gardened without chemicals for fifty years, and, to the extent possible for her, used hand tools. She knows she has not been as faithful to these principles as she could have, and that this has not dented the world's problems, but when she goes from garden to zazen, seldom feels that nagging sense of something left unaddressed. It is in the present moment, and only there, that there can be this simplicity.


Sacred refers to that which helps take us (not only human beings) out of our little selves into the whole mountains-and-rivers mandala universe.
--Gary Snyder, The Practice of the Wild 94

#InPlace 46

In spring, dandelion and nettle tea,

in summer, mint and blackberry tea,

in fall, chicory and mulberry tea,

in winter, fir and dried vegetable leaf tea


She sees that with the cultivation of a little knowledge, one understands the earth is inclined toward generosity. She reciprocates by treading lightly -- has gardened without chemicals for fifty years, and, to the extent possible for her, used hand tools. She knows she has not been as faithful to these principles as she could have, and that this has not dented the world's problems, but when she goes from garden to zazen, seldom feels that nagging sense of something left unaddressed. It is in the present moment, and only there, that there can be this simplicity.


Sacred refers to that which helps take us (not only human beings) out of our little selves into the whole mountains-and-rivers mandala universe.
--Gary Snyder, The Practice of the Wild 94

#InPlace 46

In spring, dandelion and nettle tea,

in summer, mint and blackberry tea,

in fall, chicory and mulberry tea,

in winter, fir and dried vegetable leaf tea


She sees that with the cultivation of a little knowledge, one understands the earth is inclined toward generosity. She reciprocates by treading lightly -- has gardened without chemicals for fifty years, and, to the extent possible for her, used hand tools. She knows she has not been as faithful to these principles as she could have, and that this has not dented the world's problems, but when she goes from garden to zazen, seldom feels that nagging sense of something left unaddressed. It is in the present moment, and only there, that there can be this simplicity.


Sacred refers to that which helps take us (not only human beings) out of our little selves into the whole mountains-and-rivers mandala universe.
--Gary Snyder, The Practice of the Wild 94

#InPlace 46

In spring, dandelion and nettle tea,

in summer, mint and blackberry tea,

in fall, chicory and mulberry tea,

in winter, fir and dried vegetable leaf tea


She sees that with the cultivation of a little knowledge, one understands the earth is inclined toward generosity. She reciprocates by treading lightly -- has gardened without chemicals for fifty years, and, to the extent possible for her, used hand tools. She knows she has not been as faithful to these principles as she could have, and that this has not dented the world's problems, but when she goes from garden to zazen, seldom feels that nagging sense of something left unaddressed. It is in the present moment, and only there, that there can be this simplicity.


Sacred refers to that which helps take us (not only human beings) out of our little selves into the whole mountains-and-rivers mandala universe.
--Gary Snyder, The Practice of the Wild 94