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Chasing Illusion
Many years ago, when I first began Buddhist studies, I read a book by Khenpo Karthar Rinpoche, edited by Laura M. Roth and translated by Ngodup Burkhar and Chojor Radha called Dharma Paths. It was published in 1992 by Snow Lion. Khenpo Karthar’s book was formative for me. I read it sometime around 1993, when…
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The Dragon
I was standing by the kitchen counter talking on the phone. It was one of those old phones, you know, the kind that was attached to the wall. It was our kitchen phone. It had a long cord so you could walk around with it. I was talking on the phone to a man in…
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Writing as meditation
Words are only words. And each word is constructed from letters. Fingers type letters into a keyboard. What is this? How amazing that this happens! I suppose there are people who read these posts. I wonder why. Do they read these posts and “like” them because they are hoping that I will see the “like”…
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Snow Day
Today is a snow day. I want to write something. When I press the return button, I get a new line. And a new paragraph. This Word Press site does not type like a typewriter. It’s more like building a websit. Do I really want to continue using this? I have not written anything new…
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Practice Notes
Limiting Your Activity In Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind, Shunryu Suzuki writes: You may think that if there is no purpose or no goal in our practice, we will not know what to do. But there is a way. The way to practice without having any goal is to limit your activity, or to be…
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Rose of Sharon
She is my Rose of Sharon She is my rose, The Rose of Sharon is Shari. On sun through trees evenings, Or sometimes afternoons, We walk the route you found, Your favorite. Going together up the long climb, and then down again, turning left at the cemetery where the moss-covered stones are our friends past…
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Emptiness and Bliss
When they pull the sheet upover you,When the sound of your voiceis onlyan echo in vast silence, will I break? Will waves still wash overrocks and sand?over the smooth rocks,the glacial remains in the covewhere we sat and watchedan eagle fishing,diving down to catch, then lift,the silver scalesflashing against blue sky. Emptiness and bliss, the…
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Meditation is a Natural Progression
The path of meditation leads from a condition of suffering to freedom from suffering. This path is a natural progression that happens by itself, of its own accord, once a person decides to embark on this particular journey. This journey occurs simply and naturally, step by step. The insights happen, one by one. They will…
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Tilopa’s Song to Naropa, Part 5
This is Part 5 in a series of commentaries on the text “Tilopa’s Song to Naropa,” or, as it is sometimes called, “The Song of Mahamudra.” I am going through the text and commenting on selected paragraphs. To read the entire text, and all my preceding commentaries, please go to my home page and look…
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Tilopa’s Song to Naropa, Part 4
This is Part Four in a series of commentaries on the text, Tilopa’s Song to Naropa, or as it is sometimes called, Song of the Mahamudra. I am using the English translation by Lex Hixon. Lex Hixon (1941-1995) In researching this piece, I looked him up to inquire about permission to use his translation, and…
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Tilopa’s Song to Naropa, Part 3
Some years ago, while I was in seminary, I began sitting with a group led by Roshi Ruben Habito. There was a weekly practice, and several other more intensive practices. “Day of Zen” was an all day Saturday event. And “sesshin,” was a week long silent intensive training. These practices were offered in the Zen…
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Tilopa’s Song to Naropa, part 2
Quite a few years ago, my teacher, Greg, wrote to me: “Even a happy person is not free.” This sentence has resonated a long time, echoing in the background of my thoughts. Even a happy person is not free. We were talking about awareness and consciousness and being a person. I finally realized that Greg…
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First Rhapsody
Published in Litmus, a poetry journal from the Texas A&M English Department, spring 1988.For my brother, Tom. First Rhapsody Back in a mainstreamStanding in the Southwood Theater parking lotWe watched the line curve around the building. . . no room for us this time,But it didn’t matter.We stood and laughed to the night skyBright from…
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Letters from my Teacher
First Letter. First Letter. In 1993, I was living in Tucson, Arizona. I was a student at the University of Arizona, and I had just started sitting with a Buddhist meditation group. It was a group in the lineage of Chogyam Trungpa, Rinpoche: the Karma Kagyu. I became interested in Tibetan Buddhism because of an…
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On What Matters
The poet, Ryokan, (1758-1831) was a Japanese Zen Buddhist monk who lived most of his life as a hermit. In simple, hand written calligraphy, he produced many poems, among them, the following: I watch people in the worldThrow away their lives lusting after thingsNever able to satisfy their desires,Falling into deeper despairAnd torturing themselves.Even if…
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Ed Gabrielsen 