Friends, ...many of you may know about the Quakers.

These are folks, guys, gals, who sit -- and they sit together -- in Meeting.  
If anyone rises and speaks, usually it's an Elder who will do so, first.  Then 
younger folks might.  The speaking is "Vocal Ministry".  But the practice of 
Meeting is silent.  Until someone speaks.  There is no *one* Minister.  Some 
Meetings, no one speaks.  Meeting is Meeting.  What happens in Meeting, stays 
in Meeting.  It's like Sesshin.  ;-)

There are many Streams in Human appreciation and practice of togetherness, 
assembly, belonging, sharing, and participation.  Who knows where they come 
from.

Bill!?, you may have water on your property.  RAF?, we know you have flowing 
water.  They are different streams, at your different sites.  Where do they 
come from?  We're better not to say!  It's one place, though.  A deep place.  
The streams are different, but their reasons for being are not.

(i'm a naive Geologist, though; and metaphors are metaphors; you all know what 
metaphors are for!  I never met a metaphor I didn't like!,  And I like Mr. Will 
Rogers, too)

See the classic fine book by Howard Brinton, FRIENDS FOR THREE HUNDRED YEARS 
(1952).  Just the title alone made me grab the book from the used bookstore 
shelf and hold it to my breast.  My dear Love, Mary Beth, was a Quaker, and 
taught me a lot, before she passed.  I taught her the Zen I knew, which was 
nothing, compared to her heart.  Now, always, all of Brinton's words, tempered 
in Meeting and given wings by Love, bring me back to where I ought to be.  
Maybe you too?  Will you give it a try?  Zen folk will know Brinton like the 
gal who sat next to you for a week on Sesshin.  Just read.  You'll recognize.

Friends practiced English- and American Zen, my Friends, before Soyen Shaku 
touched our salty shores in 1893 (speaking from USA, I am), where S. Shaku 
Roshi gave a talk then in Chicago, and the translation to English of his talk 
was made by his very OWN student in Japan, left behind on the island, D. T. 
Suzuki.  Small world.  But I wouldn't want to paint it (as a house-painter, 
say).

With Love!,

and as a bedtime Lullaby,

nite-Nite,

nite,

--Joe




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