First blooming in the Western Paradise,
The lotus has delighted us for ages.
Its white petals are covered with dew,
its jade green leaves spread out over the pond,
And its pure fragrance perfumes the wind.
Cool and majestic, it raises from the murky water.
The sun sets behind the mountains
But I remain in the darkness, too captivated to leave.
– Ryokan
Lotus at Reelfoot Lake
photography by Lisa Ernst
At twilight I caught
a flash of yellow light
The firefly blinked and vanished
Alert, I watched for more
But only one
brought the dusk
alive with its light
Memories from childhood
when evening hills glimmered
with countless fireflies
Pure magic
Now few, they share a fate
with bees and frogs and birds
So sad that single
lonely light
brought a tear
as I settled into dusk.
Dusk at Reelfoot Lake
photography by Lisa Ernst
The practice of meditation is the study of what is going on. What is going on is very important. – Thich Naht Hanh
Still Lake with Clouds
Photography by Lisa Ernst
The monkey is reaching
For the moon in the water.
Until death overtakes him
He’ll never give up.
If he’d let go the branch and
Disappear in the deep pool,
The whole world would shine
With dazzling pureness.
Hakuin
Yellow Leaf
Photography by Lisa Ernst
This human form repeats itself
born again and again in numbers beyond count.
A pineapple has needles and fronds and is juicy sweet inside,
how many have graced this world since the first one dropped to the ground?
Trees, flowers, insects and animals repeat themselves
endless reproduction, yet a mystery at the core.
Science tells us how, but can’t get to the rood of why.
Its a a gift of our life
this endless repetition of what we need to live.
Without the trees, the flowers, the bees and the fruit, we die.
Yet the sun in our world doesn’t repeat itself
it doesn’t birth new suns — all we need is one.
What is always here, with us now
undying
what doesn’t repeat itself?
– Lisa Ernst
“Every day priests minutely examine the Dharma and endlessly chant complicated sutras.They should learn how to read the love letters sent by the wind and rain, the snow and moon.”
~~ Ikkyu
This moment of joy is an owl’s perfect song
Again and again each time the same
How does it know to sing just this way?
The thought like the owl can’t be caught and held
It drifts on its way but the joy remains.
An open heart leaves nothing outside
receives all yet holds none
so owls can sing and then fly away.
– Lisa Ernst
This is a blog post from Gareth Young, a co-founder of Red Clay Sangha in Atlanta. His sangha, along with the Insight Meditation Community of Georgia hosted a Lovingkindess and Brahma Vihara retreat that I led March 2 – 5 in the North Georgia Mountains. Thanks to all who made this happen. Here’s Gareth’s post:
Aching with Longing
Today I finished a short meditation retreat led by Lisa Ernst from Nashville and co-hosted by the Red Clay Sangha and the Insight Meditation Group of Georgia: Zen-based and Vipassana traditions coming together for an interdenominational Buddhist retreat. We had invited Lisa to lead the retreat using her own style of practice and she focused the retreat on metta.
Like most Buddhist teachings (for my mind this is actually an attribute of all legitimate Buddhist teachings) metta practice is a set of tools that can be used by anyone regardless of their faith tradition. In simple terms it is is designed to cultivate loving kindness and compassion for self and other, and it centers upon repeating continuously a series of phrases such as:
May I/him/her/all beings be free from danger
May [I/they] have mental happiness
May [I/they] have physical happiness
May [I/they] have ease of well being.
It may sound banal, even silly, but it is extraordinary and it works – though it does require a lot of patience! And by focusing on the self first it naturally allows one to deal with feelings of self-loathing, inadequacy, being unlovable and the like that are so common in our culture. The premise, which I think is correct, is that only from a place of self-loving can one move into the world and unconditionally love the other.
The genesis of this blog post is not metta practice itself – though I commend it to you – but a beautiful poem by Tagore, a giant of Indian literature who I knew shamefully little about until I just read about him. Lisa waited until this morning after our hearts had been opened up by a couple of days of metta practice before reading the poem to us and it blew the doors open for me. It is a piece of pure beauty that hopefully will blow a tempting gust of air through your own doors, too:
On the day when the lotus bloomed, alas, my mind was straying, and I knew it not. My basket was empty and the flower remained unheeded.
Only now and again a sadness fell upon me, and I started up from my dream and felt a sweet trace of a strange smell in the south wind.
That vague fragrance made my heart ache with longing, and it seemed to me that it was the eager breath of the summer seeking for its completion.
I knew not then that it was so near, that it was mine, and this perfect sweetness had blossomed in the depth of my own heart.
To read more of Gareth’s blog, go here.
The moonlight through the trees
enters the room where I sit
and casts shadows across the floor.
It beckons me to be still,
and love just what it gives
in its fleeting time before dawn.
In this moment, still and silent
only the moon
can speak to my heart,
reveal my true nature
without even a word.
– Lisa Ernst
This morning I fell
into a well of silence.
Not a push, not a jump,
just a breath and an instant
and all is still
like a snow covered morning
at first light.
Before the mind stirs
Before the heart wants
something else
this silence
enters me, washes me away
into the joy of this
undying moment.
– Lisa Ernst
The Lotus Blooms in The Mud 