Shunryu Suzuki

One of the people whose work has inspired me.  Wish I could have met him.

The day.

Feeling dead today. Hopeless. Anxious.  Annoyed.  Lost. Uninspired.  I can't seem to snap out of it.  Sorry.

I shouldn't be this way.

Green

Interesting color that green.  Think green I am told.  Okay...I am thinking in green right now.  What is it getting me?  I know at the party the other night about 90% of the people there said green was their favorite color.  What the hell is Sea foam Green?  I have never seen green sea foam and would probably run from it if I did.

I think about the underside of things quite a bit.  Some of my writing can take a dark turn at times.  I wrote a poem once, I named this blog after it, where I think about being bleached, mossy bones on a forest floor at the edge of a stubble field.  I used to hunt, hike, and generally be attracted to that edge.  The edge between forest, and emptiness.  Someday I will put that poem on here but some that have read it have said it was a bit intense.  Or have asked me if I am okay.  I am fine.  What was wrong with me is now on paper. 

I also address the ugly side of nature in Stubble Fields.  We humans love to anthropomorphize (sp?) nature.  If it is cute and cuddley maybe it won't hurt us and will protect us when we are lost in the big dark world.  I was reading a story awhile back about the last grizzley shot out of a wildlife park in Arizona.  The author mentioned how before he looked at the mountains as bear country but now they are just mountains.  I guess that is how I see these mountains around here without wolves.  I suppose if it can't get me, it is not completely nature.  I have wandered these mountains without fear.  Maybe we need the big bad wolf to come back?

I love the small things in nature.  I like to sit, or lay down on the forest floor, or a grassy plain, or a stubble field, and look at the little world that moments ago was at my feet.  Amazing things going on in that few square inches of soil.  Ants are amazing creatures and I love my 5 acre ant farm here.  Anyway that is another blog entry.

Things I am thinking about:

Friends
Arctic Dreams
My son's anger
Wood piles
Beer

Zen
Loreena McKinnett
Transiency
A new American Revolution

What is your Heaven?

I have been told by some that I respect, that when death closes your eyes, you wake and you know all.  Your loved ones and those you miss are waiting for you and God, or whatever being you believe in, will embrace you. 

That sounds great!  Not going to lie about that!  Except for the "know everything" part.  I sincerely hope to see those I have lost in my life.  How often I have wished that my kids could enjoy one Christmas with my parents and grandparents.  Just so they know what I am talking about.  My kids knew my Mom but she was so sick it wasn't the same. 

Back to the "know it all".  If I was to go to Heaven, I would have to say to God, "Please God, I don't want to know everything.  I want the possibility to know everything. Please don't cast me into the depths of Hell for that.  Thank you, God."

I would want the tools to explore the great mysteries and the perils that could go with the search.  I would want to know what DaVinci was thinking when he painted "The Last Supper".  I would want to watch The Roman Empire rise and fall.  See dinosaurs.  Most of all, and this is odd.  I would want to follow the last Neanderthal to see what he, or she did.  I would want to find out how the Great Pyramid was actually built. I suppose I would want to see the moment everything flashed into being.  But I would want to have to figure it out.  Spend eternity exploring this wonderful universe that we are apart of.  Don't tell me.  Let me be surprised.  Let me feel the dangers that the great explorers felt as the searched the new world.  Yeah, there we go.  Maybe be a crewman on a galley as she wandered the African coasts.  Be a Samurai warrior in deadly combat.  Hover on the event horizon of a black hole.

So many possible adventures.  Oh and be on one of the famous expeditions that never returned from South America, or Africa.  Witness the Mayan, and Inca civilisations. Is this universe one of many?  Are we just a drop of water on a blade of grass?  So many things!  That would be Heaven! 

Oh, and I really hope there is some good beer in Heaven!

Things I am thinking about:
Transiency
smoke
the truth of this world
old leaves under trees
dirt
my skid steer that I sold
motorcycles
Seattle
headaches
emptiness
perfect existence

Work, and some backward N. Idaho Zen.

Chop wood, carry water! Not really but if it needs to be done, just do that. I keep this in mind at the daily, or in my case, nightly grind, at the hospital. Also, if I am beginning to lose myself, say getting frustrated by work, or my unhappiness at having to do a certain, or many certain tasks, I address myself. Brian! Yes, Brian?
No I am not crazy. At least I don't think I am.  These are just things I carry with me day to day from my continued failings with Zen. But it helps.   

Winter

Winter.  I used to love winter.  Now it is pain, and cold. I wrote this long ago.  At least one of you will find it familiar.

      Out where I grew up it is very dark at night. Sometimes if you are lucky the moon shines through the tree branches enough to light the way. It is a strange place at times; it has its own life and energy. I have never understood it, not even today. This place has a secret. A secret not meant to be discovered, or at least not by me. I walk the forest trails and see things move out of the way, but I can never see them directly. These things slither, crawl, and jump through the brush.

      When I do happen to see these creatures, they look at me with more knowledge in their eyes than I would expect. It is startling, not only because a doe may have just jumped out of nowhere in front of me, but that she has a vigilant look in her eyes. It is an earthy look, full of grit and survival. The desperation of knowing that a year from now her life will be different, or over.

      Everything here moves with purpose; no energy is wasted. I can get caught up in it. If I let go and listen to the night, and if I let those primal urges of want and desire flow into me, my eyes grow large with fear and flight. My heart pounds as I place myself in the wildness that surrounds me. I can feel the desperate pull to be savage, ruthless, cunning, and unclean. I long for scratches and torn skin, to feel blood flow. I want to show this place that I can take it. I want to scratch bark and piss on the borders of my claimed land and fight all that dare cross it. I want to show that I will be fat by winter and will emerge alive and victorious in the spring…

There have been years, including this one, where I have wondered how I was going to make it to the other side.  I watched my Dad approach winter in 1999 knowing he wouldn't be making it out on the other side.  The green of Spring is very much missed, opening day (MLB).

Where is this going?  I don't know.

These are the things i think about:

The mountains I want to climb.
The people I have lost. Either by death, or some other reason.
Green.
Rotten logs
Fence lines
Bugs
Old barns and houses
What is passing through in the night where i was the day before.

I am done for now.

:(

Deep sadness today. The kind that cuts to the core and stays a long time. The kind that lingers in songs drifting across time. Yeah. I am bummed to say the least. To anyone reading this…it will go away in time. Today, however, I am at a loss for words and can only speak kindly to my children.