GOLDFINCHES
into a settled
order of things
into an understanding
a gust
of goldfinches
they flock to larches
to waste and stubble
to feed on seeds
of thistles and teasels
the hearts of sunflowers
nest of roots and bents
flight a dancing a twinkling
song of tinkling variations
wings gilded
a rose hip for a head
after the storm
thorns stripped bare
ragwort in rags
the day in tatters
until brushed by a wing
—Thomas A Clark
My favourite quotation is still Nietzsche:
An even cheerfulness is the reward for a long, brave, diligent, subterranean seriousness for which, admittedly, not everyone is suited.But I realise now that this cheerfulness is not a reward but a requirement. Without it the work will surely send you mad.
When students would complain about where they were living, or pine for their origins, their roots, John would often quote the Daodejing:
In dwelling, think it a good place to be.
Love where you are, where you find yourself. Love the place, love the earth, the ground, the people, despite their faults, otherwise rooting will be impossible.
Ultimately everything is a matter of heart.
In dwelling, think it a good place to be.
Love where you are, where you find yourself. Love the place, love the earth, the ground, the people, despite their faults, otherwise rooting will be impossible.
Ultimately everything is a matter of heart.
Developing a disciplined sitting practice is a matter of commitment and patience. For many practitioners, it is not easy, even for those who have been sitting for a while. Sitting every day must become a priority in our daily lives rather than just one more thing we have to do.
—Narayan Liebenson Grady in Joan Duncan Oliver (ed), Commit to Sit, 2009
—Narayan Liebenson Grady in Joan Duncan Oliver (ed), Commit to Sit, 2009
Early in his training John asked Liang about Qigong. Liang explained what it was – energy work – and advised John to get a Tibetan teacher because the Tibetans have the best Qi. So John found himself two Tibetans residing in London: Geshe Damchö Yonten (1930-2017) and Chime Rinpoche (1941-) with whom he studied both Qigong and Tibetan Buddhism. After a couple of years he began to have doubts about the work and asked Geshe "Is Qi internal?" to which Geshe replied "No, of course not." He then went on to explain that Qi is no more internal than muscular strength.
In Taiji we engage & work with the two natural forces of gravity & levity. Gravity pulls the body down onto (and eventually into) the Earth. Levity lifts the spirit up to (and eventually into) the firmament – the expanse of an ever-expanding universe. The natural function of the mind is to equilibrate these two forces rather than think to itself. When I think to myself then gravity overpowers levity and I need to right the balance by waking up & letting my spirit soar. All of our problems, as individuals & as social members, stem from the incorrect use of the mind, from idle thought.
Let’s look at it practically: you pour cream into black coffee and look at it. What do you see? Passively: Enough, not enough, or too much cream. A little more awake to the moment: Wow, what a swirl! Very engaged in seeing: Look, a dragon! That’s a range of intensity and concentration in viewing what’s at hand. A matter of degree that verges on a difference of kind.
Awakeness/awareness is an intensity. So intense it becomes creative.
Roger Ackling was a British artist who used a magnifying glass to carefully burn lines into small pieces of driftwood he found on his local beach in East Anglia. Each piece, although usually only pocket-size, would take hours of patient and attentive concentration to complete. For me this is a perfect image of meditation: carefully focusing the light of the mind on a point and allowing time to drag that point into a line. Lines burnt in light.
The second time John visited T.T.Liang in Boston in 1972, Liang picked him up at the airport.
"How's the Taiji going?" he asked.
"Oh it's terrible! I'm sure I'm going backwards."
To which Liang smiled and replied:
"Ah, sign of progress!"
Progress in Taiji is always a softening – a falling away of all you thought you knew – and as such is difficult and often painful.
This all requires time! Often an entire lifetime, a time that must remain in harmony with the rhythm of life in general, that of the universe and that of other living beings, which the candidate to the spiritual must respect, and even try to aid if such is their wish.
—Luce Irigaray, Between East & West, 2003