Good Afternoon Everyone,
This morning early I did a short mile and a half walk through a desert park. Soon after, I went to the downtown mall where we have a farmer's market. Approaching my spot I noticed a man sleeping on the low wall built to protect a tree. I carefully unfolded my blanket, put down my zabuton and zafu, my begging bowl and thermos of hot tea, and took my seat.
At the bell, I lit a stick of incense and offered it to all sentient beings. Palms together, I quietly chanted the Wisdom Heart sutra. Finally, a bow and settled in for zazen.
Over time a police cruiser pulled up. The homeless man rested. I watched over him. The policemen got out of their cruiser and walked passed us, slipping their batons in sheaths. The bell rang signalling the conclusion of the first period.
The market was getting crowded. I noticed people not noticing. They would look at me, then look right past the man sleeping on the bench. Some of us are clearly invisible men.
At the bell, another incense offering and another period of zazen.
A mother and two children walked by. Her little boy offered a dollar, I bowed. A woman followed past me hurriedly saying "namaste". Silence. The sleeping man stirred. He looked at me. My eyes were just about on him. Within a few minutes, he rose, tidied himself, picked up his cane, glasses, and plastic bottle of water. He also picked up his shopping bag pillow. Before my bell rang, he limped away not to be seen again. At the bell, I bowed, wishing the sleeping man were still there to receive the offering I had received. Another bell, another stick of incense in the air.
Third period of zazen. Police came back. People hurried by with bags of produce. Chanting Hannya Shin Gyo, the cruiser's engine started. Palms together, a bow to all sentient beings and as the last of the incense drifted into the morning sky, I rose with it and slipped way.
No trace.
Be well.
This morning early I did a short mile and a half walk through a desert park. Soon after, I went to the downtown mall where we have a farmer's market. Approaching my spot I noticed a man sleeping on the low wall built to protect a tree. I carefully unfolded my blanket, put down my zabuton and zafu, my begging bowl and thermos of hot tea, and took my seat.
At the bell, I lit a stick of incense and offered it to all sentient beings. Palms together, I quietly chanted the Wisdom Heart sutra. Finally, a bow and settled in for zazen.
Over time a police cruiser pulled up. The homeless man rested. I watched over him. The policemen got out of their cruiser and walked passed us, slipping their batons in sheaths. The bell rang signalling the conclusion of the first period.
The market was getting crowded. I noticed people not noticing. They would look at me, then look right past the man sleeping on the bench. Some of us are clearly invisible men.
At the bell, another incense offering and another period of zazen.
A mother and two children walked by. Her little boy offered a dollar, I bowed. A woman followed past me hurriedly saying "namaste". Silence. The sleeping man stirred. He looked at me. My eyes were just about on him. Within a few minutes, he rose, tidied himself, picked up his cane, glasses, and plastic bottle of water. He also picked up his shopping bag pillow. Before my bell rang, he limped away not to be seen again. At the bell, I bowed, wishing the sleeping man were still there to receive the offering I had received. Another bell, another stick of incense in the air.
Third period of zazen. Police came back. People hurried by with bags of produce. Chanting Hannya Shin Gyo, the cruiser's engine started. Palms together, a bow to all sentient beings and as the last of the incense drifted into the morning sky, I rose with it and slipped way.
No trace.
Be well.
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