Let's be Negative!

photo by Tsuh YangThis morning I heard yet again a person equate sad and negative, and suggest that someone with negativity (which was actually sadness) had some understandable reason for being so, and deserved compassion therefore. 

Do you pity negativity? 

what about negative ions? negative feedback loops?

what about shabbat? a day of rest.

what about darkness? death.

says the sutra on the Identity of Relative and Absolute:

Light and darkness are a pair, like the foot before and the foot behind in walking.

Be so-called positive if it pleases you but you cannot escape the negative. 

Tumbling toward death
with open arms
one fist, one palm
heart aflutter

November 8, 2021

on a roll

I visited my grave on Monday, then lost my voice.

Even though I can only whisper, I can still move along.

it's only 7 seconds and, personally, I find it funny. still entertaining! 

October 29, 2021

Dissolution Dharma

I gave a Dharma talk today. Here are the words, spoken by my friends where indicated:

Good morning. My name is Yuuka. I’m a senior student at the Village Zendo and a member of the Sangha. 

I sound like this because my diaphragm and vocal cords have atrophied from ALS, lower motor neuron dominant ALS, a rare variant of a rare disease. So today, my friends will speak my mind. Thank you, Roshi, for allowing and encouraging this accommodation.

clockwise according to textMy name is Fusho; We often start by talking about the weather… [improvise and bow]

My name is  Joren. And we often say how amazing it is to see all of you… [improvise and bow]

My name is Mukei .Sometimes we say something about how we’re feeling… [improvise and bow]

My name is Gessho. Or what’s going on… [improvise and bow]

My name is Kojin. We talk about these things because they are immediate, happening now.  [improvise and bow]

Yuuka Kojin, will you be my voice? [bow] 

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just Hi!

Today I am not crying. Even though I slept only an hour last night, I am not crying. Even though my new home health aide cannot really understand me, I am not crying. Actually, I am shouting, but no one seems to hear or understand what I'm trying to convey.

Maybe it's the sun and the warmth. And maybe, today, it was a little bit fun to propel my chair with my feet.

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What do I know?

photo by Leor MillerToday I am crying. My sky is crying on my tree as I sit inside watching it. I cannot go outside today because I don't have help. I did not know that I would not have help, and so I didn't ask around. I did not know that I would lose the ability to balance and walk. I did not know that I would lose the ability to talk and breathe. I did not know that I would know that I am dying.

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Everybody has Something Going On

This is how I sit zazen now. I need it for this convo. photo by Leor. my daughter's feet and my breathing hose gesture supportSitting in my wheelchair in the park, a neighbor who in all my encounters with him has never asked one question about myself approaches:

Neighbor: so, how are you?

me: ok...

Neighbor: but...[gestures, meaning, why are you in a chair?]

me: I have a kind of ALS. 

Neighbor: what?

me: Lou Gehrig's.

Neighbor: OH!

me: it's lower motor neuron only, so I'm getting weaker; it's hard to breathe and talk, and I'm dying.

Neighbor: Well, everybody has something going on.

[I could stop there, really, but it goes on.]

Like. my wife...after the pandemic, decided she wan

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See me...feel me e ee

That's a lot of 'e's, eh? When you make the sound, do you feel it in your throat? your tongue? How about your teeth? Do you feel the resonance in your cheekbones?

There is a big difference, isn't there, between seeing it on the page and feeling it? I thought of this difference the other day on my first wheelchair ride. I had convinced my daughter to leave me outside for a bit so I could feel the breeze. Sitting under a sprawling tree bending in the soon-to-be-stormy wind, watching leaves shimmer a little hysterically, I felt bliss. I was the tree and the wind and the sun. My pores shouted Oneness with All, and I listened. Alas, we were pressed for time; the bit was over too soon, and then I was inside again. 

Inside I can see a tree (I'm lucky, I know), but I cannot feel it. Or so says my limited mind.

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I am In Dependent (don't read if you don't cuss)

pic by Leor MillerThis is how I swim now. With the full support of my daughter I can kick like a toddler learning to swim. Except of course I fucking know how to swim. I fucking used to pass the fucking alpha males with their gear and their struts and I was fucking proud! 

Pride comes before a

whoops.

I fell the other day as I

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True Expression

Somewhere in my documents is a pronouncement that I'll be ready to die when I can no longer express myself. When I wrote it the line between expression and not seemed more clear to me than it does now. What is expression? What is myself? Zen koans are often simple at the absolute level but entangled at the level of detail.

Sure, I am expressing myself now, but

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The Beach: Dependence, and Dolphins

human armchairs, loving familySensible sentences can't convey how it was to be trapped in a house of stairs with no railings, on the beach impossible to access without help, ocean waves subsumed by human construction.

And yet, with help, an experience sublime.

So, a poem.

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