while on the bus, i noticed this angry sounding elder chinese couple having a “conversation” (mainly involved the male of the pair speaking extremely loudly and sounding very very upset about everything).
i began texting my sister…
me: why do chinese people always sound like they‘re angry all the time? i don’t get it.
sis: that’s b/c they are angry they were born to be chinese
me: omg.
sis: ^^ only we would understand that answer.
me: i love you.
WHOO HOO! another post(!) in such a short amount of time!
i‘ve been wicked internal as of late, tryin’ to get all deep back into my body mind and soul and all. there’s a lot more clarity and direction by whichever force in this reality is guiding me. and i think i‘m lovin’ it.
i’m scared of just throwing myself off the cliff of doubt and completely immersing myself into this realm of spirits, souls, energy, compassion, and peace. but i feel like i‘m real fucking close to a) jumping or b) gettin’ shoved.
..
..
anyway, back to the theme of today’s post!
i have always sort of been a spiritual kinda a guy. i wasn‘t aware i was, but even when i renounced all faith, i felt i was constantly searching for something.
the pilot light of my soul was still on, so to speak. the heater was turned off, and then the switch was ripped off and then thrown away, but that damn pilot light was always just silently and softly burnin’ away.
>.>
fast forward (details to come in other blog posts i’m sure… <.<)
i find that i‘m constantly vacillating between buddhist ideals, mainly compassion, and look very much at how i would live my life more along the lines of social buddhism in general, and taoist thinking, the life of the sage is very appealing to me (i could rock for so long about taoism as of late).
i am aware of zen buddhism’s blend of the two paths, but i feel like that’s not quite the combination of them that i want to guide my life by (oops, ending with a preposition). i feel like there‘s just slightly too much sitting, and not enough doin’. actually, i guess that’s my main beef with taoism, not enough action, but, non-action. but, that’s also what i really like about it.
i wanna eat that beef, all the time.
shit.
so, what spawned this blog post are the following lines, which i feel really conveys the characteristics of a taoist sage.
how many things,
before and after,
all melt into gossip and laughter.
~sd
i want to being today by giving thanks and love to Martha Graham. the world of dance would not be the same without you. may your soul be resting peacefully, or back within the realm of dance.
i recently flipped open my copy of the Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, and realized that i need to get back to reading this. i’d forgotten how deep this shit is, man. anyway, i leave you today (and hope to return tomorrow) with a few words from Shantideva:
for as long as space exists
and sentient beings endure,
may i too remain,
to dispel the misery of the world.
Shoveling Snow with Buddha
In the usual iconography of the temple or the local Wok
you would never see him doing such a thing,
tossing the dry snow over the mountain
of his bar, round shoulder,
his hair tied in a knot,
a model of concentration.
Sitting is more of his speed, if that’s the word
for what he does, or does not do.
Even the season is wrong for him.
In all his manifestations, is it not warm and slightly humid?
Is this not implied by his serene expression,
that smile so wide it wraps itself around the waist of the universe?
But here we are, working our way down the driveway,
One shovelful at at time.
We toss the light power into the clean air.
We feel the cold mist on our faces.
And with every heave we disappear
and become lost to each other
in these sudden clouds of our own making,
these fountain-bursts of snow.
This is so much better than a sermon in church,
I say out loud, but Buddha keeps on shoveling.
This is the true religion, the religion of snow,
and sunlight and winter geese barking in the sky,
I say, but he is too busy to hear me.
He has thrown himself into shoveling snow
as if it were the purpose of existence,
as if the sign of a perfect life were a clear driveway
you could back the car down easily
and drive off into the vanities of the world
with a broken heater fan and a song on the radio.
All morning long we work side by side,
me with my commentary
and he inside the generous pocket of his silence,
until the hour is nearly noon
and the snow is piled high all around us;
then, I hear him speak.
After this, he asks,
can we go inside and play cards?
Certainly, I reply, and I will heat some milk
and bring cups of hot chocolate to the table
while you shuffle the deck,
and our boots stand dripping by the door.
Aaah, says the Buddha, lifting his eyes
and leaning for a moment on his shovel
before he drives the thin blade again
deep into the glittering white snow.
WAAAAA!!!!
http://www.cupsizechoir.com/
oh man.. one of my roommates has recently moved out, and she took her wok with her… the current wok i have just doesn’t compare… 
FEAST YOUR EYES ON:
http://www.scanpan.com/cookware/type/specialtycookware/12-3-4-ctx-wok-w-rack.html
SHIT IS BALLER!!
hopefully, i will arrange things to support the acquisition of said wok soonish.
http://www.williams-sonoma.com/products/breville-pie-maker-bpi640xl/
i want that shit. so hard.
