Satya Robyn leads a Buddhist morning practice with meditation, a poem by Catherine Bevis called
Chapters
Good morning everybody.
Hi to Ellen and Chris joining online and anyone joining watching the recording afterwards. I wanted to read a poem to start practice today by Catherine Bevis called This.
This.
A fire has been lit in new leaves. We will grow into a green world in the dark wood Small whites rise in drifts to the swish of our boots. Nothing is worth more than this day. A pair of grey wagtails fly low, gold-bellied, over the rushing river. Their bodies translate water to sunlight, sunlight to water. Nothing is worth more than this day. Here the wind toys with leaves like loose change in the pockets of the sky. High above, a wood pigeon calls to us, wild and true. Who are you?
Who? Who?
Nothing is worth more than this day. So with that in mind, we sink into the present moment of this day.
Oh, Mamita Bahubri. Oh, Mamita Bahubri. Om Amitabha Om Amitabha Om Amitabha Om Namitabha Om Bhrim. Om Namitabha Om Bhrim. Om Namitabha Om. Oh, ma mi taba ho ri. Oh, mi taba ho. Oh, ma mi taba ho ri. Om Amitabha Omri. Om Amitabha Omri. Om Amitabha Omri. Om Mani Tabah Om Hri. Om Mani Tabah Om Hri. Om Mani Tabah Om Hri. Oh, oh, oh. Om Amitabha Om Rin. Om Amitabha Om Rin. Om Amitabha Om Rin. Om Amitabha Om Amitabha Omri Om Amitabha Omri Om Amitabha Omri. Om Amitabha Omri. Om Amitabha Omri. Om Amitabha Om. Om Amitabha Om. Om Amitabha Om. Om Amitabha Om. Oh! Oh! Mami Sabahomi. Ooh! Nami Sabahomi. Om Ami Taba Homri. Oh, Mami, kappa, kappa.
For refuge I go to the Buddha.
For refuge I go to the Buddha.
The one who is awake and full of love.
The one who is awake and full of love.
Namo Buddha.
Namo Buddha.
For refuge I go to the Dharma.
For refuge I go to the Dharma.
All that guides us to wisdom and compassion.
All that guides us to wisdom and compassion.
Namo Dhamma.
Namo Dhamma.
For refuge I go to the Sangha.
For refuge I go to the Sangha.
Those who live in the Buddha's light.
Those who live in the Buddha's light.
Namo Sangha.
Namo Sangha.
With faith, oh, for refuge I go to the Earth.
For refuge I go to the Earth.
The holy ground of awakening.
Namobhumya.
With faith in the Four Refuges, and in light of my human tendencies, I pray that I may become aware of when I take life. I pray that I may become aware— of when I take what is not freely given. I pray that I may become aware— of when I fall into sexual misconduct. I pray that I may become aware—
I pray that I may become aware—
Of when I fall into wrong speech.
Of when I fall into wrong speech.
I pray that I may become aware.
I pray that I may become aware.
Of when I become intoxicated.
Of when I become intoxicated.
No blame.
No blame.
Be kind.
Be kind.
Love everything.
Love everything. Innumerable are sentient beings.
We vow to save them all.
Inexhaustible are deluded passions.
We vow to transform them all.
Immeasurable are the Dharma teachings.
We vow to master them all.
Infinite is the Buddha's way.
We vow to cultivate completely.
This week someone told me a story and they, and I said, oh, that'd make a, a good Dharma talk. And they said, oh, feel free to share it if you want to. Uh, they're not a Buddhist teacher. Said, oh, feel free to use it. So they were driving home, it's about 7 miles between where they work and where they get home, late after a, a late finish. And mostly they're okay driving if they know where they're going, but they have some anxiety about going into, uh, new places. And as they drove on this familiar road, they started seeing signs, road closed ahead, like, okay. Drove a bit further, road closed ahead, drove a bit further, road closed ahead. And they keep sort of trying their luck and going, well, I'm just gonna keep going on the road that I know. But they notice their leg starts shaking. They're imagining being diverted off the road into places where they don't know how to get home to. And the anxiety's building up. They pass another sign, road closed ahead, and they're really starting to feel worried, maybe even a bit panicky. And then, um, they get home and the road was closed beyond where they lived. For all the clues that we get about how things are going to unfold, we don't really know what the future holds. Pretty classic Buddhist teaching. And as human beings, we're more likely to pay attention to the clues that reinforce some something rigid in us, some habit energy, the places that we're not free. So it's particularly hard to hold the possibility of anything, of nothing, of the unknown, to stay in relationship with that rather than deciding in advance it's going to be this outcome, it's going to be that outcome. And usually, as I say, the fantasy that we're having about how things will go reinforcing some greed, some ill will, some fear, something that already exists in our system, some habit pattern, some rigidity. And you never know, right? My friend had lived a bit further down the road, um, she would have had to find a different way home, possibly, and, and maybe that would have been difficult. But actually what happened was, oh, I'm home. There wasn't anything to worry about. I spent the whole journey worrying and there was nothing to worry about. Buddhism offers lots of practice to help us, lots of teachings and lots of practices to help us with this, from just hanging out in the present moment meditations to practicing gratitude to logically thinking through the problem. That's quite strong in some traditions. I don't actually know what's going to happen.
Okay.
To noticing what is moving through us. Oh, here's the fear. This is where it lives in my body. This is how it rises and falls. But I am not the fear. Like the mantra the Buddha gave to his son, this is not me. I am not that. This is not mine. It's just here, rising and falling. Pure land Buddhism offers us the sense that everything will be okay, that ultimately at the end of everything will be okay. You know, in medieval Japan, it was a really, uh, the idea of rebirth after death was just taken for granted. And Pure Land Buddhists were going to the Pure Land. And if, if you're really settled in that, it reduces the anxiety about whether the road is closed or not, because ultimately you're always going to arrive. If you don't believe that the Pure Land exists in a place after death, but is something that can speak to you in this lifetime, then the practice is finding how it's showing up regardless of all those clues that the road is going to be closed or whatever it is. This is what the poem hints at as well. A fire has been lit in new leaves, will grow to a green world in the dark wood. Small whites rise in drifts to the swish of our boots. Nothing is worth more than this day. A pair of grey wagtails fly low, gold-bellied, over the rushing river. Their bodies translate water to sunlight, sunlight to water. Nothing is worth more than this day. Here the wind toys with leaves like loose change in the pockets of the sky. High above, a woodpigeon calls to us, wild and true. Who are you? Who? Nothing is worth more than this day. Who knows what else was going on in the life of the speaker in that poem, but they are able to notice the life of the Pure Land breaking through all around them. Whether the road is closed or Or not. The wood pigeons are still calling. Namami Devi. I'll just do frustrations from here because one of my legs has gone to sleep. It hasn't happened for years.
Namaste.
Tomorrow evening, next Saturday after practice, open morning. So bring your friends if they want to have a look around. Also, if you want to hang around and just be present to say hello to people and make them cups of tea, be appreciated. Or bring cake or wash up the cups. Lots of things people can do to help make it a good morning.
Blessed by Amitabha's light, may we care for all living things and the holy earth.
