Archive for the Crazy Zen Wisdom Category

Awakenings

Posted in Bardo Thordol, Crazy Zen Wisdom, Crossing the Abyss, Poetry, That was Zen, and this is Tao on March 31, 2020 by dreamlanddancing

 

Life springs ahead.

Too much meditation,

not enough Dharma Action.

Time to awaken from this Dream

of Death

to enter

The Lucid Dream

 

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

03/31/2020

Fish swim with the tides, in and out of the lagoon as it empties itself, receives from, and flows back into the sea.

 

 

Friday the Thirteenth

Posted in Dangerous and Unsavory ideas that are possibly harmful to the weak-mided and overly simplistic and religious, Janitor To The Temple Of The Holy Of Holies, Much Too Good For Children, Observations of a Recovering Buddhist, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone on March 13, 2020 by dreamlanddancing

…so I wake up hearing a voice whispering “Oh shit! Here we go again…why can’t we just go back to sleep?”

“Indeed. In fact, why bother to wake up at all?” I found myself replying, albeit sarcastically.

(I suddenly realize that at this point, I am engaged in clever repartee with myself.)

And it was then that I realized that I was only dreaming.

Nevertheless, I found myself deeply disturbed that such notions were in my head at all.

Yes it was only a dream, but apparently, dark impulses must be generated from within, but why?

One year was enough…too much in fact…for either recuperation or morning. Life was slipping through my fingers…as if trying to cup my hands to catch my own blood.

I was suddenly overcome by anxiety, as I felt my chest tighten and I became short of breath, as if suffocating.

It was then that I realized that I was only dreaming.

So I went to my long forgotten mistress, my muse, the keyboard, with whom so much time had passed, so long ago.

Initially, she rebuffed my advances, shamed me, questioned my motives, and demanded to know my intentions; jealous and hurt, she nonetheless reluctantly consented to physical congress, although it was really her affections that I had missed the most.

Go figure.

The longer that I tried to express myself, the further down the rabbit hole I fell.

I fell so far that it felt like I was flying, and suddenly I was.

It was then that I realized that I had only been dreaming….

Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei
さよなら絶望先生
(Goodbye, Master of Despair)

Namasté
नमस्ते

Sukhino Bhava
सुखिनोऽभव)

Chazz Vincent
Friday, the 13th of March, 2020

A Few Not-So-Funny Things that Kept Happening on My Way to the Word Processors

Posted in Bardo Thordol, Crazy Zen Wisdom, Observations of a Recovering Buddhist, That was Zen, and this is Tao, The Liberation Through Hearing on September 21, 2019 by dreamlanddancing

 

 

A few days ago, I received an anniversary notice from WordPress, congratulating me on my seventh anniversary of DreamlandDancing.

Most bloggers run out of steam in less than five years, which is curiously enough, also the make/break point for most small businesses.

Four years ago, my health went into what seemed to be a death spiral of numerous ailments, finally (hopefully) culminating in open heart surgery this last January.

Recuperation is not necessarily always as planned, and one thing just seems to lead to another…

Nervous breakdowns are inconvenient, embarrassing, and have a tendency to undermine one’s credibility, but I would be remiss not to admit that essentially all of the epiphanies, revelations, moments of clarity, and illuminations that I have experienced revealed themselves to me as the fabric of my Consciousness, Intellect, and Reason unraveled.

Suddenly faced with no A Priori assumptions, deconstructing what I perceived as Reality, allowed, if not encouraged me to let the most necessary components of my world align themselves according to their nature, rather than my previously preconceived notions.

“There are two ways to be fooled; one is to believe what is not true, the other is to refuse to believe what is.”  (Søren Kierkegaard)

I have often felt like I was playing “Chicken” with my own sanity in my search for the Truth, and eventually, I always lost because I kept playing until…so I have learned to consider myself blessed by these events.

It seems obvious to me that although I have what may well be the worst judgment in the world, the fact that I am not dead, in prison, or an asylum gives strong credence to the notion that I may also be the luckiest man in the world, or at least a strong contender for the title.

Meanwhile, I rebuilt the engine of my son’s 1987 Firebird while recuperating from a back injury in time for him to be able to drive it while on leave after returning from Afghanistan.

I fell down a very long, dangerous rabbit hole “researching” the production of moonshine for my current work Once in a Blue Agave Moon, but have done precious little writing.

In less than a week’s time, with no notice, I was forced to build a storage shed and workshop for my tools, or face losing them.

I’ve lost track of how many hurricanes have highjacked my energy, thoughts, and time these last several years.

The old adage about how when one door closes, another one opens has also proven true, and after several decades have once again begun researching, writing, playing, and recording a song cycle devoted to resonating our Chakras entitled “Ode to a Roomful of Tibetan Singing Bowls.”

Thordol Bardo, or The Enlightenment through Hearing has taken on new meaning and import for me.

I joined a drum circle, even though I have never considered myself a percussionist.

After months of intractable pain, thanks to Zen meditation and several Taoist exercises, I have learned how to successfully manage severe chronic pain, although it curiously inspired my occasional byline, Observations of a Recovering Buddhist.

(I am still an Atheist.)

Zen does not require me to invent a god in my, or anyone else’s image.

I have been a “gun-toting Pacifist” for several decades. I see no contradictions in that statement, considering that it has allowed me to save several lives other than just my own; nevertheless, ironically, the worst abuse I face on a regular basis comes from those who do not share my beliefs.

Are they or are they not also Pacifists?

I would ask them “How many people does it take to achieve World Peace?” The source of all conflict still lives within each of us, but until we learn to conquer it, there can be little hope for our mutual advancement.

That is why the Shaolin Monks devised Kung Fu.

I choose to stay alive out of love, so that I may share it with all who would appreciate it, until each of us realizes that the answer is just “One.”

Most of my life has followed trends or periods of time when a particular thought or principle seemed to predominate those events, and they have appeared to represent cycles that repeat themselves, allowing me the opportunity to correct, or anticipate events where or when my notoriously bad judgement taught me the error of my ways…hey look, regardless of judgement, I’m not STUPID!

The fact remains that so much remains undone and unwritten.

A few days ago, after meditating, I recognized a familiar state of mind that had come to me  several decades ago, a portent of what was unfolding, which involves change, and growth to face an uncertain future.

It was when I recognized my true self, my need for uncertainty and change, that I learned to embrace my fate, powered by my resolve, after understanding that I don’t have to only write the songs that make me cry.

“Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom.”

(Søren Kierkegaard)

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

09/21/2019

The Ten-Thousand Things

Posted in Bardo Thordol, Crazy Zen Wisdom, Crossing the Abyss, Poetry, The Liberation Through Hearing on August 29, 2019 by dreamlanddancing

 

 

Each Day

As I face

The Ten Thousand Things,

that would either

impede or obviate

my pursuit

of The One,

it occurs to me

that

as I move in any single

aspect or angle

in the pursuit

of The One,

if I should

merely persevere long enough,

that eventually

I will become

one with

The One.

 

 

 

Wu!

Wu-Wei

Wu-Wei-Wu.

 

 

 

Matte Kudesai

Patience Please.

 

 

 

If I should

pursue

The One,

for the rest of

what is left of

my life,

I will never

Arrive.

 

 

The deer runs

not because the dog chases it;

the dog chases the deer,

because 

the deer runs.

 

 

 

 Wu!

Wu-Wei

Wu-wei-Wu.

 

 

 

Matte Kudesai

Patience Please.

 

 

 

The more passionate

the methods used

in the course of 

any pursuit,

the more surely

that

desire

will succumb

to

confusion.

 

 

 

Wu!

Wu-Wei

Wu-wei-Wu.

 

 

 

Matte Kudesai

Patience Please.

 

 

 

Each Day

As I face

The Ten Thousand Things,

I realize

that

No matter

which way I go,

all things return to The One.

 

Some directions

will be longer

or shorter

or faster

or more secure,

but the path we choose

will determine

both our Methods

as well as our intentions

and whether we know it or not,

instead of 

seeking

the attainment of anything

somewhere in the future,

if I embrace

my present circumstances

with joyous resolve,

compassion

and Grace,

fully engaged

in the ever-present

never-present

present moment,

there will be no time for

dreadful speculation,

the result of wallowing

in fearful rumination

instead of being completely

 in the Here and Now.

 

Acceptance, rather than Denial

allows us to focus on

what our life really is, 

rather than

what we wish it was.

 

If you are unhappy now,

what makes you think

you will be happy

sometime later

in a future

that will never come?

 

 

 

Wu!

Wu-Wei

Wu-wei-Wu.

 

 

 

Matte Kudesai

Patience Please.

 

 

Thanks.

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

08/29/2019

 

Never Too Late…?

Posted in Bardo Thordol, Crazy Zen Wisdom, Observations of a Recovering Buddhist, Poetry, The Liberation Through Hearing on July 15, 2019 by dreamlanddancing

Six months dancing with Death in a dream within a dream

 

 

As finite Time hangs in the balance

All too conscious

that

as The One

returns to Zero,

just how precious

the ever-present

never-present

present moment

is

was

and will be.

Recuperation.

So many hours

for

necessary thoughts,

albeit dangerous or not

seducing me

into remembering

the regrets I could not rewrite

within my history.

Facing the shame of my wrongs

done unto others

to whom I can no longer

apologize,

yet totally eclipsed

by the magnitude

of my despair

for all that I will leave

undone.

 

Hesitation

preoccupation

self-consciousness

or cowardice

are indistinguishable

after the fact,

when

The Moment

was lost.

Thought for Today: 10/02/2018

Posted in Crazy Zen Wisdom, Dangerous and Unsavory ideas that are possibly harmful to the weak-mided and overly simplistic and religious, Much Too Good For Children, Observations of a Recovering Buddhist, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone on October 3, 2018 by dreamlanddancing

If you can summons from within yourself the ecstasy, wonderment and rapture of a zealot, there is no need to invoke a deity in your own image. 

…Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei 

…さよなら絶望先生

(Goodbye, Master of Despair)

 

 

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

10/02/2018

PS: (This is not to be confused with writhing in bed screaming “Oh God! I’m coming!)

What’s in a Name?

Posted in Boiler Room operations, Crazy Zen Wisdom, The Talking Monkeys, The Tyranny of Evil Men, Works for any Major Corporation on July 28, 2018 by dreamlanddancing

Those of us who make a living by working on the telephone are not necessarily telemarketers.

If one works in customer service, for instance you are not marketing anything, because you are not selling anything except your own cult of personality in order to placate people who are afraid (usually for good reason) that they are being victimized by whatever service you are trying to defend.

A few years ago, I learned that the federal government treats telephone workers as “factory workers.”

Before I was given the opportunity to enjoy my self-righteous indignation, it was explained to me that in fact, that was a good thing because if we got laid off, we were now entitled to the same benefits as factory workers, which were much better than they had been before.

Somehow, the term factory worker did not sit well with me. I’m no snob (I thought), but as I pondered the whole thing, I thought that where we worked was indeed a Voice Factory, which I then began to refer to as The Voice Box.

Over the last eleven years, my job has taken on more and more intrusive measurements of literally every second from the time I walk through the door.

It is all connected to a feature they refer to as Adherence, and they can fuck with everything from your rate of pay, or any future raises, to your pecking order for bidding for your scheduling.

I used to jokingly refer to us as Lab Rats, because I often suggested that we were in reality being used as test subjects to see how much stress they could introduce into our workplace before someone “went postal” and shot the place up.

We’ve had three suicides, but no mass murders so far….

I eventually endorsed the term “Talking Moneys” about the time I started the second novel.

But, in truth, There are Some Things that a Monkey Won’t Do.

As my employers’ quest to engineer the last shred of humanity out of the workplace, a new term now comes to mind.

It is Biobot.

We are, for now, a necessary evil, but rest assured, as soon as someone invents a robot that can do what I do, I will be out of work in less time that it takes to kick me to the curb.

Biobots of the world, unite!

 

 

 

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

07/28/2018

 

 

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