When you ride in a boat and watch the shore, you might assume that the shore is moving. But when you keep your eyes closely on the boat, you can see that the boat moves. Similarly, if you examine multiple things with a confused body and mind, you might suppose that your mind and essence are permanent. When you practice intimately and return to where you are, it will become clear that nothing at all has unchanging self
Dogen
photo wilfredo r rodriguez
Mindfulbalance 
Today, ten thousand people will die and their small replacements will bring joy and this will make sense to someone removed from any sense of loss. I, too, will die a little and carry on, doing some paperwork, driving myself home. The sky is simply overcast, nothing is any less than it was yesterday or the day before. In short, there’s no reason or every reason why I’m choosing to think of this now. The short-lived holiness true lovers know, making them unaccountable except to spirit and themselves—suddenly I want to be that insufferable and selfish, that sharpened and tuned. I’m going to think of what it means to be an animal crossing a highway, to be a human without a useful prayer setting off on one of those journeys we humans take. I don’t expect anything to change. I just want to be filled up a little more with what exists, tipped toward the laughter which understands I’m nothing and all there is. By evening, the promised storm will arrive. A few in small boats will be taken by surprise. There will be survivors, and even they will die.
“Choosing to Think of It” by Stephen Dunn. No other bibliographic information available. Presented here as published atBlueRidgeJournal.com.
Megan Paterson-Brown
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