zen poem
Saturday, December 26th, 2009self-portrait, christmas morning, 2009. doing no-handed donuts in the cemetery parking lot.
i was pretty disappointed with the lakers loss last night. as a fan, you can prepare for the game all you want, yell at the top of your lungs, but it really doesn’t matter. kind of like this, i can write whatever i want, but you’re still gonna eat mcdonalds, drink starbucks, wear lululemon, binge, fast, whatever.
i would like to let go of all my attachments. that way, whatever you do doesn’t bother me. it sounds cold, but isn’t that the goal in life, to have no attachments and be free of all worry?
when i was 18 or 19, i bought a book of poetry by an 8th century zen buddhist. it’s the only book of poetry i’ve ever owned. for some reason, han shan’s poems have always spoken volumes to me. last night my mom gave me a new copy, to replace my moldy original. han shan called his home cold mountain and now his poems seem to speak for me.
“i think of all the places i’ve been,
chasing about from one famous spot to another.
delighting in mountains, i scaled the mile high peaks;
loving the water, i sailed a thousand rivers.
i held farewell parties with my friends in lute valley,
i brought my zither and played on parrot shoals.
who would guess i would end up under a pine tree,
clasping my knees in the whispering cold?”














