Morning in the Zendo

Here's a design of sunrise in a brand new zendo. It was essentially a grave vital room in a residence but after we placed a buddha in a window seat as good as considering a dark, serene peculiarity of a room it felt similar to a imagining space. And as a vital room seat quickly made itself gentle in a sunroom with a soaring windows as good as perspective of a pond, well, a desire to have this as a imagining room (sans furniture) became stronger. It's interesting how if you listen, things have been suggested to us by a environment. Even a Tibetan friend who came to do a residence blessing as good as catharsis recognized it immediately as a place to have a grave sitting group. Who knows what a future holds?

I am still visited by doubt, wondering if you have finished a right thing. Is this too big a property? Will you be impressed by a work it takes to look after it. Have we been miserly in choosing this place? In as good as out boyant these severe thoughts. They have been interspersed with feelings of great assent whilst digging in a herb garden, noticing a light decline as good as conference a duck land upon a pond. we remind a worrying thoughts to settle as good as simply be with what is, not run off conjuring stories. How quickly a thoughts ignites a emotions in to small brush fires of fright as good as worry. we remind myself to take another path, to cultivate courage as good as fearlessness. And if we watch this activity of my thoughts we am reminded of a insubstantial nature, how it is a small residence of cards. And a clarity of void sinks a small deeper in to my bones.

And upon a note of void here's a lovely small poem which seems to fit my mood as good as a season. It is by a Chinese Zen nun Yi-k'uei (1625-1679). we found it in a pleasant small book we am celebration of a mass "Enso: Zen Circles of Enlightenment" by Audrey Yoshiko Seo.

I w! atch unm oved as waves incline as good as Dharma
gates tumble in to disrepair,
I pull a round upon a ground within which
I will censor myself away.
Suddenly a summer starts to pull to
a close, as good as tumble comes again:
It is only not long ago which we have mastered a art
of being a complete fool.