Author: hannah

Mindful Monday: Don't-Know Mind

Buddhism, mindfulness, Spirituality
  "If you claim a position, you don't have the correct view." The Fifth Dalai Lama (1617-1682) ...  What are you noticing about how the mind scrambles to form an opinion? ... ... for Mindful Monday   © January 12, 2015, post: Donna Pierce Source: Ngawang Lobsang Gyatso, The Graded Stages of the Path: Personal Instructions from Manjushri Photo credit: "Eiffel Tower (after the rain), Paris," Kimberly Jansen, 2011

Mindful Monday: Dark Though It Is

Buddhism, death, mindfulness, Spirituality
I posted this poem (see below) by W.S. Merwin a month ago, but it keeps drawing me back, so I'm posting it again for another look. At first glance, the poet makes what seems an absurd assumption: that we are or should be ever-thankful for the myriad ways we suffer. Say what? Thank you for pain, horror, disease, loneliness, and humiliation? The gall! The guy must be cruel or crazy. If we peer through a Buddhist lens, however, perhaps the poem means that it is to our benefit to say thank you to whatever pain comes because, used well, it keeps us keenly aware of the sorry fact that each one of us will suffer and die, and in so knowing, we cannot help but be compassionate to ourselves and others. We say thank you, not despite the fact that we will suffer and die but because of it. Give thanks...

Mindful Monday: Frigid Gizzards

Poetry, Spirituality
I was in the mood for a winter poem for today's Mindful Monday post. I looked for something spare, ancient, Zen-like, and haiku-y. Instead, I found a contemporary, cranky, tragicomic poem whose vivid images, seemingly straight out of Fargo, made me laugh for some dark reason. Enjoy! A Severe Lack Of Holiday Spirit by Amy Gerstler I dread the icy white concussion of winter. Each snowfall demands panic, like a kidnapper's hand clapped over my chapped mouth. Ice forms everywhere, a plague of glass. Christmas ornaments' sickly tinkle makes my molars ache. One pities the anemic sun come January. Trees go skeletal. Children born in the chilly months are apt to stammer. People hit the sauce in a big way all winter. Amidst blizzards they wrestle unsuccessfully with the dark comedy of their lives