don’t want no four iron

This is me out for a walk just after 9am Monday, before the temperature skied to 90. Sayin’ it with pics:

There’s a Zen story with a monk wandering around in a snowstorm coming upon a monastery and entering for shelter. Within he approaches a Buddha statue carved of wood, and proceeds to chop it into pieces. And set those pieces on fire. The Master of the monastery, aware something wicked serious is up, runs into the meditation hall and yells, “What are you doing, burning our statue?” The monk replies, “Show me something that isn’t the buddha and I’ll burn that.”

I pretty much love that story – What isn’t sacred? What isn’t special? What isn’t eternal? And more and more and more I feel that way about all of it. Why I’m so completely “gone” on these lazy, dawdling walks I’m taking – I get to take – before employment or a lover or friends or spare money or anything much else to do.

Dawdle map — Chicken coop at NE Tillamook and 18th. Japanese maple at NE Knott and 17th. Statue, stones, and (I bet) magical pot at NE Stanton and 27th. After which I drove to get a coffee, and at an outside table received a text that the man I was about to be hired to support Wed – Fri afternoons from 1:30 – 4 was now saying Monday afternoons five hours to play golf. To which I replied, “I don’t play golf.” To which I received, “You don’t have to play. You just have to take him there.” To which I replied, “No.”

Before employment. Show me something that isn’t the buddha.