Sunday, February 21, 2010


This morning, the dawn is sweet and soft, with a pale blue sky sporting a few pinkish clouds. It's chilly, but not cold, on the porch. The heat is on in the zendo and I think I may not have to bring a blanket to throw over my shoulders during zazen later. There are birds out there somewhere. Spring, if not yet in full swing, is whispering and promising.

No particular idea insists, but there are colorful bits of glass thought shifting, as in a kaleidoscope.

-- In Afghanistan, a fierce fight is underway. People are in fear for their lives. American, Afghan, soldiers, civilians. In a hundred years, what fruit will this tree bear?

-- In California, the Dalai Lama says his meeting with U.S. president Barack Obama was low key and he does not resent it. He understands the need for diplomacy and connection between the U.S. and China -- an economic connection that should not eviscerate America's principles of law and equality.

-- In Florida, three teenage girls crossing a railroad trestle were killed as a male friend watched helplessly from the far side. It was about 6:30 p.m. Saturday. The boy screamed at them to run, then to jump ... but to no avail.

-- To the extent that tolerance just implies and newly-dressed intolerance, well, I think it cannot last. Everything relies on everything else in one sense -- peace/war, joy/sorrow, excitement/boredom, tall/short -- but to the extent you rely on anything whatsoever, there is bound to be sadness and confusion.

-- My cousin writes that if I want to get my book into internet-accessible shape (she pointed out a site where I can do it for free), I need to have a cover. I have a cover. You can't judge a book by its cover, but these days the cover of the book is about the only thing that arouses much interest: I designed it and it came out 95-97% the way I wanted it ... and I like it. Maybe I'll work on that project later today.

-- My youngest son turned 16 yesterday. I picked him up at about 11 last night from a friend's house. My son's girlfriend was there as was his friend's girlfriend. A good birthday, my son's face said to me. Spring is coming.

-- What is frozen thaws. What thaws becomes frozen. Is there something unclear about this? Is there some principle missing?

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