Beginner's Heart

Beginner's Heart


surfaces ~

unicorn narwhaleI love this cartoon. It seems the perfect argument for skepticism. Of course, Buddhists have warned about illusion for centuries. There is, for instance, no meaningful separation between me and you, although you sit at your desk and I at mine. At least according to Buddhism. Think of your arm, for instance: it’s you, right? But if tragedy befalls, and you should lose your arm, do you lose ‘you’?

And if I lose both my arms, my legs? And what about a heart transplant? Or a clone? Is a clone — exactly like me — ‘me’? What is this whole ‘me’ thing, anyway? Am I the narwhal I appear, or the unicorn pedaling grumpily out of sight?

Physics, with its  discussion of science fiction’s beloved Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle, tells us that only in the observation/measurement of something does it really exist. Kind of what Buddhists say: we make the outside world ‘real’ through our belief in it, our sensory ‘measurements.’ We label the carbon life forms that comprise me by name. But when I change my name, I don’t really change. And even though all my cells are replaced completely every so many years, I’m still ‘me.’

Some religions believe in a soul. Others, in a divine life force. Buddhists believe in ‘Buddha nature.’ But it’s not unique to the individual — each living entity (animal, vegetable, maybe even mineral) possesses it. And it’s no more visible than the unicorn. And just as hard to believe in, for many. :)

Personally? I kind of like this explanation of narwhals. The disgruntled look on the unicorn’s face is classic. And it reminds me: there’s so little I should take at face value. I need to look for the unicorn. Just beneath the surface ~



Previous Posts

form, poetry, and the empty cup
I spent the day researching obscure poetic forms.  And it was enormous fun -- thinking about what to pour into those elegant white cups of structure. Along the way, I wrote this poem for my sisters (the least structured of women). But we'll get to the poem in a moment. Because what's important i

posted 3:41:38pm Apr. 18, 2014 | read full post »

poetry, structure, and creative beginner's heart
Last night, discussing structure and writing with my elder son, I said I couldn't write w/ too much structure. That writing is -- for me -- a discovery process. Structure, I told him, can actually kill my ide

posted 3:03:47pm Apr. 16, 2014 | read full post »

what a difference a day makes (and other ways I wish I was like my grandson)
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posted 3:01:12pm Apr. 15, 2014 | read full post »

in the flash of a moment
My grandson hurt himself today. Not horribly, but bad enough that he's been crying for two+ hours. On a lovely spring day -- temps in the lower 70s -- he was on the deck w/ his folks, crawling happily around

posted 4:45:55pm Apr. 13, 2014 | read full post »

the poetry of every day
It's easy to forget that every day holds poetry. Especially if you're hectic: packing, moving, cleaning a new house, unpacking... Soothing a disolocated dog, holding a curious baby. Eating out of cartons while you locate the dishes and pans. All of this can make you forget the whole point of the

posted 2:46:45pm Apr. 12, 2014 | read full post »




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