Andrew Furst's Blog, page 70

Post Card Art Project – Wacky Wardrobe

Here’s the next installment of the Post Card Art Project. Wacky Wardrobe

The artist (and let me know if there are mistakes) are shown below in the same position as their card:

The Post Card Art Series

This is the one of several posts I will be offering titled the Post Card Art Series. Its a collaborative art project done on post cards. 

Using an image divided into four sections, I created four post cards.  I printed 200, pre-stamped them, and mailed them out to patreon supporters, friends, and blog readers who expressed an interest. They applied the art, mailed the cards back.  Now I'm assembling them.

The results are fun and unique.

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Meditations on Gratitude – Children

What’s the shortest path the awakening?  Children. Kids clarify life instantly. Any delusions of grandiose purpose are shattered. We are alive to raise our children.  Our purpose, motivation, and desire are all governed by the primary biological directive – pass on your genes.  This isn’t a disparaging or cold observation, it’s functional and illuminating. Surrendering to our “higher purpose” is both liberating and satisfying.

Looking into the eyes of your child, whether they were born two minutes ago or two decades ago, stokes the fire of unconditional love.

I have two children who have grown into two fine men. They couldn’t be any more different, yet they both share an abundance of noble traits including kindness, broad mindedness, and respect for others. They are quick to help and to offer a kind word.

My oldest has shown me different ways of being a man.  He has made many choices different than I did and he has reaped the benefits. I see hard work, but great success in his future.

My youngest shares my impish sensibilities and my artistic aspirations. His abilities have proven vastly superior to mine (thanks probably due to my wife’s genes). But he also carries with him a deep sensitivity and different way of looking at the world. As with my oldest, I see hard work, but great success for him.

If you are not a parent, you may be reading this as your typical parental doting over their child, and of course you are right. But if you are wise or a parent, you will recognize the manifestation of life’s purpose in these words. You will recognize the path of the Bodhisattva in parenthood.

To both of my boys, I am deeply grateful to you. I am grateful in ways you might not understand until you find someone to care for and love unconditionally. Until my last breath, I will be here for you.

May all children have a parent to care for and love them

May all children be free from abuse and neglect

May they find a path to adulthood that is safe, enriching, and meaningful

May all children find a path to fulfillment

Meditations on Gratitude - A weekly series of people and situations I’m thankful for and a short meditation.

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The Oxherd Series – Catching the Ox – Modern Koans

The Oxherd Series is a collection of 10 images and commentary on the quest for enlightenment.  Its source is the Zen tradition. What you're reading here is a satirical, but not all together purposeless, treatment of these so called stages. Using excerpts from one of my favorite cartoons, Bob's Burgers, I hope to bring this old story into the present.

We’ve seen it, we have observed it, and we’re beginning to understand the nature of the beast.  Our teacher’s advise us on how to catch it. There is some excitement developing, a sense that we can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

But here, nearly halfway through the journey there is some irony. It’s not incorrect to say that we are the furthest we can possibly be from the natural state of enlightenment.  We’ve developed a sophisticated understanding of our Buddha nature and we have the tools and the wherewithal to notice how far we can stray from it.  It feels like we’re ready for the work of cleaning house. But, and this is the irony, what work needs to be done?  How might we increase our Buddha nature?  How might we permanently shut off our proclivity to fall off the wagon?

If we strive to increase out Buddha nature, we are seeking to change the unchanging. If we work to achieve a permanent state of being, we would be seeking to contradict impermanence.

If we strive to increase out Buddha nature, we are seeking to change the unchanging
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In the Bob’s Burger episode I’m using for this series, Bob has developed a relationship with the cow that’s being used to guilt him out of using beef. This is an age old story of the farmer who must raise animals from birth and butcher them for their meat.  It’s a challenging moral scenario.  How can we justify the killing of another being to perpetuate the lives our families? Of course the problem is practically solved, farming has sustained humanity for millennia – with or without moral justification. Most of us eat meat.

Bob in a moment of empathy, attempts to hide the cow (actually a steer) by bringing him into the apartment.  Not only does he encounter the practical issues with having cattle in your house (see the image above), but he doesn’t end up solving the problem.

If we work to achieve a permanent state of being, we would be seeking to contradict impermanence.
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At this stage in the oxherd series, we are particularly prone to fall for Samsara’s old tricks. The experience is viscerally familiar. There is a sense of impending success.  We see a problem and we pull out the old instructions for solving it – i.e. roil up our sleeves, work hard for a little while and bask in the glory of success.  Again, I ask, isn’t this brand of “work” the same old samsaric formula for dissatisfaction.

I don’t offer these words to discourage, only to remind you that if there is work to be done, it is different from the kind that has thus far led us to discontentment.  It may be something utterly foreign and strange. It may be as familiar as the nose on your face.  Keep walking, keep your eyes open, and breathe.

Keep walking, keep your eyes open, and breathe.
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I seize him with a terrific struggle.

His great will and power

are inexhaustible.

He charges to the high plateau

far above the cloud-mists,

Or in an impenetrable ravine he stands.

I have abandoned the whip and ropes.

Next: Taming the Ox

I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.

Modern Koans is an ongoing series that recognizes that good questions are often more important then their answers.

The riddles of God are more satisfying than the solutions of man. ― G.K. Chesterton

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Measuring Our Goodness – Joanne Harris

Quotes -The path to right view is an arduous walk through fields of manure.

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Shawsheen River Ripples – A Two Minute Meditation

a stillness

and a chill

and a growing darkness

that might steal away

steal away

any last sense of vibrance

drops of rain carry the cold

but bring life to the still river’s reflection

opening little windows

to new universes

in each ripple’s

eye

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Minute Meditations is an ongoing series of short videos, poems, and commentary intended as a meditation.  Offered as an opportunity to step back from your cyber routine and settle into a more natural rhythm, if only for a minute.

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These videos are produced for those of us who spend an inordinately large amount of time in the cyber-world.  They are not a substitute for unplugging from your devices and taking a stroll near trees, water, or a patch of unkempt grass.  Getting out into the world - touching, smelling, hearing, and seeing nature is the best way to reconnect with our prime purpose.  

What is our prime purpose? We are feeling and sensing machines.  We are the universe looking back on itself. We are witness to the wonders and dangers of living in this corner of the cosmos.  We are the seekers looking for connection a little further beyond yesterday's borders and boundaries.

But sitting and staring at the screen robs us of the sustenance that we rely upon for wonder and sanity.  These videos are an opportunity to bring the sensations of nature to you, while you're in the cyber-world. Its an opportunity to relax your gaze, resettle your posture,  and regain some depth in your breath.  Listen and watch the video and allow your self to open up and recharge.

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Infinity – Verse Us (Poems by Me)

How many snowflakes

Fall upon the icy ground

In a single breath

Verse Us - Poems I write: haiku, senryu, mesostics, free verse, random word constructions, I might even use rhyme or meter once and a while.

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Post Card Art Project – Different Drummers

Here’s the next installment of the Post Card Art Project. Different Drummers

The artist (and let me know if there are mistakes) are shown below in the same position as their card:

The Post Card Art Series

This is the one of several posts I will be offering titled the Post Card Art Series. Its a collaborative art project done on post cards. 

Using an image divided into four sections, I created four post cards.  I printed 200, pre-stamped them, and mailed them out to patreon supporters, friends, and blog readers who expressed an interest. They applied the art, mailed the cards back.  Now I'm assembling them.

The results are fun and unique.

The post Post Card Art Project – Different Drummers appeared on Andrew Furst.

Afraid of the Light – Say What?

Say What?  is an ongoing series of laconic exchanges on Buddhism in the format of a comic strip. 

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Thanatopsis by William Cullen Bryant – Compass Songs

To him who in the love of Nature holds

Communion with her visible forms, she speaks

A various language; for his gayer hours

She has a voice of gladness, and a smile

And eloquence of beauty, and she glides

Into his darker musings, with a mild

And healing sympathy, that steals away

Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts

Of the last bitter hour come like a blight

Over thy spirit, and sad images

Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall,

And breathless darkness, and the narrow house,

Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart;—

Go forth, under the open sky, and list

To Nature’s teachings, while from all around—

Earth and her waters, and the depths of air—

Comes a still voice—

Yet a few days, and thee

The all-beholding sun shall see no more

In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground,

Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears,

Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist

Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim

Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again,

And, lost each human trace, surrendering up

Thine individual being, shalt thou go

To mix for ever with the elements,

To be a brother to the insensible rock

And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain

Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak

Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould.

Yet not to thine eternal resting-place

Shalt thou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish

Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down

With patriarchs of the infant world—with kings,

The powerful of the earth—the wise, the good,

Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past,

All in one mighty sepulchre. The hills

Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun,—the vales

Stretching in pensive quietness between;

The venerable woods—rivers that move

In majesty, and the complaining brooks

That make the meadows green; and, poured round all,

Old Ocean’s gray and melancholy waste,—

Are but the solemn decorations all

Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun,

The planets, all the infinite host of heaven,

Are shining on the sad abodes of death,

Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread

The globe are but a handful to the tribes

That slumber in its bosom.—Take the wings

Of morning, pierce the Barcan wilderness,

Or lose thyself in the continuous woods

Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound,

Save his own dashings—yet the dead are there:

And millions in those solitudes, since first

The flight of years began, have laid them down

In their last sleep—the dead reign there alone.

So shalt thou rest, and what if thou withdraw

In silence from the living, and no friend

Take note of thy departure? All that breathe

Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh

When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care

Plod on, and each one as before will chase

His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave

Their mirth and their employments, and shall come

And make their bed with thee. As the long train

Of ages glide away, the sons of men,

The youth in life’s green spring, and he who goes

In the full strength of years, matron and maid,

The speechless babe, and the gray-headed man—

Shall one by one be gathered to thy side,

By those, who in their turn shall follow them.

So live, that when thy summons comes to join

The innumerable caravan, which moves

To that mysterious realm, where each shall take

His chamber in the silent halls of death,

Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,

Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed

By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,

Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch

About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.

 Compass Songs is an ongoing series of works by poets that I enjoy. Poetry, as the Zen Masters have said, is like a finger pointing to the moon. It speaks the unspeakable.

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We Pledge Ourselves – Nelson Mandela

Quotes -The path to right view is an arduous walk through fields of manure.

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