"Everybody loves raking as a temple activity," my friend Gil explained to me after he returned from his sojourn practicing Zen in Japan and vipassana in Southeast Asia. "In Japan they say, 'When you rake, watch your mind.' So in Japan the monks can be seen raking energetically, sometimes stirring up a cloud of dust, while in Southeast Asia, the monks sometimes stand unmoving with a rake in their hands."
-Edward Espe Brown, No Recipe: cooking as a spiritual practice
Sometimes, those focused on remaining calm and contained are not always learning the skills necessary to perform, to function in the world. They may be stable and not raise their voice in the kitchen, but they don't know how to make salad dressing. They may meditate steadfastly but not develop their communication skills. While busy generating calm, beautiful states of mind, they are not developing the skills, capacities, and practices that could actually and realistically manifest delicious food or wholesome relationships.
-Edward Espe Brown, No Recipe: cooking as a spiritual practice
Do we live in a profane world, or do we say, "Yes, indeed, sacred space is right here"? Where are we? Awakening the mind that seeks the way to learn, to grow, to study, to investigate, already we are shifting into sacred space. Something could come through us.
Instead of aiming to go somewhere else, where everything is so much better, the Zen imperative is to recognize that the sacred is here by practicing, living, cooking in the way of sacred space.
-Edward Espe Brown, No Recipe: Cooking as s Spiritual Practice
Yesterday, in the middle of an internal tempest—a raging internal debate about my own capacities—I walked to the coffee shop down the road for a treat. On the way, I noticed that the cool air and warm sun seemed perfectly untroubled by the momentous issues and feelings that were swirling through my body.
Nearing the coffee shop, I looked across the street to the mini-mall that has a head store, a Curves franchise, a beauty salon, and some other shop I can't recall. There, in the window of the salon, was a hand-written sign saying: "Thank you for your devotion."
Now I know there is some logical explanation of why they put that sign in their window that has nothing to do with me. But, in that moment, I knew it was just for me. The universe had decided I needed some direct encouragement to stay the course—to have faith through the turbulence.
I laughed out loud, made a small bow, and got a warm cup of foggy-morning coffee with room for cream.
-David Rynick, This Truth Never Fails: A Zen Memoir in Four Seasons
Posts
All Comments
