Aug 9 – 15

“I was tired in the evening yesterday. I felt drained by the last days outer conflicts. I felt separated from life. Suddenly I heard the wind blowing through the trees outside my open window, whispering a silent and playful invitation: “Do you want to play? Do you want to join the dance?” This playful invitation again joined my heart and being with the Existential dance. I was again in a silent prayer and oneness with life.”

-Swami Dhyan Giten

Practice Meetings

Friday Aug 14, 7:00pm

This Week’s Koan

Book of Serenity #41
“Rakuho at his Deathbed”

When he was about to die, Rakuho addressed his assembly and said, “I have one matter to ask you about. If you say ‘yes’ to this, you are putting another head on your own. If you say ‘no,’ you are looking for life by cutting off your head.” 

The head monk said, “The green mountain always lifts up its legs; you don’t need to carry a lantern in the daylight.” 

Rakuho said, “What time is this to utter such a saying?” 

A senior monk named Genjô stepped forward and said, “Apart from these two ways, I beg you, Master, not to ask.” 

Rakuho said, “That’s not enough. Say some more.” 

Genjô said, “I cannot say it fully.” 

Rakuho said, “I don’t care whether or not you can say it fully.” 

Genjô said, “I feel just like an attendant who has nothing to respond to his master.”

That evening, Rakuho called Genjô to him and said, “Your response today had something quite reasonable. You have to realize what our late master said, ‘There are no dharmas before the eyes, Yet consciousness is before the eyes. IT is not the Dharma before the eyes, IT cannot be reached by eyes and ears.’ Which phrase is the guest? Which phrase is the host? If you can sort them out, I will transmit the bowl and robe to you.” 

Genjô said, “I don’t understand.” 

Rakuho said, “You must understand.” 

Genjô said, “I really don’t understand.” 

Rakuho uttered a kaatz and said, “Miserable, miserable!” 

[Another] monk asked, “What would you like to say, Master?” 

Rakuho said, “The boat of compassion is not rowed over pure waves. It’s been wasted labor releasing wooden geese down the precipitous strait.”

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