My comments are embedded in your post below:


From: Zen_Forum@yahoogroups.com [mailto:zen_fo...@yahoogroups.com] On Behalf
Sent: Wednesday, August 18, 2010 7:29 PM
To: Zen_Forum@yahoogroups.com
Subject: Re: [Zen] Namaste- first message



I have tried to do that, but then that makes everything just seem fleeting
and more meaningless. The best way of putting is like the replicant at the
end of Blade Runner "all these moments will be lost like tears in rain." I
feel like all the sweet things I taste, all the books I enjoy, etc.
ultimately have no meaning, and are therefore worthless.

[Bill!] At the risk of making things worse for you, the movie BLADE RUNNER (
based on the novel DO ANDROIDS DREAM OF ELECTRIC SHEEP by legendary sci-fi
writer Phillip K. Dick) is an apt analogy of aspects of Buddhism and zen.


Roy Batty, the replicant, was right at the end of the movie when just before
he died he said, "I've seen things you people wouldn't believe: Attack ships
on fire off the shoulder of Orion; I've watched c-beams glitter in the dark
near the Tannhauser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time; like tears
in rain. Time to die."


And Tyrell, his Maker, was also right when he exhorted him to quit worrying
about how long his life span was and instead "Revel in your time!"


All this is very zen-like.


When Roy was on the rooftop dying, his  'attack ships on fire' and the
'c-beams glittering in the dark' were already 'moments lost in time'.  They
were now just memories, misshapen and clumsy shadows of reality - illusions.
What Row had then was the rain falling on his face.  That was what Roy
should have been 'reveling' in, not whining about days gone by.


A well-known zen story that you've probably already heard/read also
illustrates this point:


'A man traveling across a field encountered a tiger. He fled, the tiger
after him. Coming to a precipice, he caught hold of the root of a wild vine
and swung himself down over the edge. The tiger sniffed at him from above.
Trembling, the man looked down to where, far below, another tiger was
waiting to eat him. Only the vine sustained him. Two mice, one white and one
black, little by little started to gnaw away the vine. The man saw a
luscious strawberry near him. Grasping the vine with one hand, he plucked
the strawberry with the other. How sweet it tasted!'

The berries don't taste sweet, they taste like ash at that point.

[Bill!] Whether or not the berries taste sweet or like as is entirely up to
you.  This is illustrated in another zen story:

" Many years ago there was a young man living in Korea, and the young man
felt that his life was quite empty. So he shaved his head and went up into
the mountains to live the life of a monk. He studied diligently for a number
of years, but still felt that he did not really understand how to be free.

The young man had heard of certain Zen masters living in China so he
gathered his meager belongings and started a long and arduous journey across
arid plains.

Every day he would walk for many hours, and would stop only after finding a
patch of land that had a source of water. Finding water was not at all a
simple task in such dry lands, but a task necessary for preserving his life.
There were many times he had to walk until quite late in the evening before
finding a suitable location in which to rest and be refreshed.

One day was particularly hot, and the monk walked on endlessly, unable to
find an oasis. As day turned into a moonless night, the pace of his walking
slowed considerably so that we would not fall and hurt or kill himself. When
he did finally find a shaded area he collapsed on the ground and slept for
several hours. He woke up some time after midnight and he was tremendously
thirsty. He crawled around on his hands and knees in the darkness, and ran
across a roughly made cup that must have been left by a previous traveler.
The custom of leaving a cup with some water in it, for the next traveler to
drink from was quite common. He drank the meager amount of water in the cup
and he felt very blessed and very at peace with the world. He laid down
again and slept quite comfortably until awaking to the light of the early
morning sun.

Upon sitting up he saw what the night before, he had taken to be the roughly
made cup. It was a shattered skull of a baby wolf. This skull was caked with
dried blood, and numerous insects were floating on the surface of the small
quantity of filthy rain water still left in the bottom portion of the skull.

The monk saw all of this and immediately started to vomit. He had a great
wave of nausea, and as the fluid poured forth from his mouth, it was as if
his mind was being cleansed. He immediately felt a deep sense of
understanding. Last night, since he couldn't see he assumed that he had
found a cup which had been left by a fellow traveler. The water tasted
delicious. This morning, upon seeing the skull, the thought of what he had
done the night before made him sick to his stomach. He understood that it
was his thinking, and not the water, that made him feel ill. It was his
thinking that created good and bad, right and wrong, delicious and foul
tasting. With no thinking there was no suffering.

Having realized this, his journey was complete, as he no longer needed to
find a Zen master."

So.Quit thinking so much.  Sit (zazen) more.  Quit making judgments.  Only
NOW!  Just THIS!


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