Dave,
My comments are embedded in your post below: From: Zen_Forum@yahoogroups.com [mailto:zen_fo...@yahoogroups.com] On Behalf Of DP 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! .Bill!
