You have an amazing blog, I would like to add you in my favs, if you agree.

Keep writing good stuff !

Njoi

~komila
http://komila.wordpress.com

I don’t think we do only speak truth to those that know truth. In part it’s true we do; others read and move on, perhaps taking only an iota of our meaning but keeping it with them.

Me, I write to try and organise in my own head what it is I mean, what it is I know. Ususally nothing!! If anyone’s listening it’s a bonus. Saves me from talking to myself!

I like the distinction between speaking truth and attempting to foist it on others – something I hate and detest. If enough speak, the world will ring like a bell.

Life is to be experienced. Lessons are secondary, they are ways for us to move through the world and navigate dangers and emotions and events and people. how you experience life come in part form lessons learned and from just being.

Does Zen Master = Buddhahood? I’m not sure.

I’ve heard that even the most enlightened people are imperfect. It is these imperfections that can drive us closer or into enlightened states. We must be apart form the world and of it (did Jesus say that or Buddha?).

As for the vessel, it reminds of that story about the Zen master who during a tea ceremony with an Emperor pours tea into a small cup until it is overflowing as lesson. The Emperor must first empty his cup before he can fill it again with wisdom and new experiences and lessons.

Emptiness is form, form is emptiness. The overused Yin/Yang. The dual in the one. Everything.

I’m glad I found you guys. This is interesting and fun!

So when you become a Zen Master you know all feeling within and don’t want anyone in humanity to do what will inevitably create pain.

I don’t want to believe the vessel is cracked. What I want to believe is we choose how enlightened we are at any given moment. The vessel is whole, it’s the contents that are tainted. We must continually refresh the contents of the vessel.

Masters keep it flowing continually. Their vessel is rarely tainted.

It’s like an adult telling a child not to put his hand in fire. If the child were able, he might get all wrapped up in whether it is “right” or “wrong” to disobey the injunction; he might begin to question the motivations of the adult, suspecting an attempt to deprive him of a wonderful new experience; he might get angry at the adult for daring to tell him how to live his own life.

All of this is a waste of time, because the adult, coming from a position of greater knowledge and experience, was simply telling the child a fact: put your hand in fire and you’ll get hurt.

Similarly, the Zen master is not indicating that judging is “wrong” and not-judging is “right.” He’s just stating a fact: judge and you’ll get hurt.

Why do we keep putting our hand in the fire? Because we don’t have the knowledge and the experience of the master.

How do we get it? That’s the rub. We can try not to judge; we can try not to think; we can try all sorts of meditation and exercises. But the very “I” who is doing the trying is broken!

Can the cracked vessel fix itself?

P.S. I’m just about to post a reading on creativity and divinity, and since you seem to be interested in the creative life, I thought I’d give you a head’s up.