Runcible Blog

Helpful advice for that guy who lives on Elm Street:

If you're going to watch porn on a big screen TV in your living-room, perhaps you should close the window shades first.

Kakuan, a Chinese Zen master in the twelfth century drew the ten ox-herding pictures to describe the phases of Zen training:

1. Searching for the ox: The ox has never been lost. What need is there to search?
2. Discovering the footprints: Not yet having entered the gate, nevertheless he has discerned the path.
3. Perceiving the ox: If he raises his eyebrows by keeping his eyes wide open, he will become aware of the fact that all things are nothing other than himself.
4. Catching the ox: If he wishes for pure harmony with the ox, he should not fail to whip it.
5. Herding the ox: Hold the nose-ring tight and do not allow even a doubt.
6. Riding the ox home: He will not linger even when caught with a trap.
7. The ox transcended: We only make the ox a temporary subject.
8. Both ox and self transcended: Mind is clear of limitation.
9. Reaching the source: One who is not attached to "form" need not be "reformed"
10. In the world: Inside my gate, a thousand sages do not know me. The beauty of my garden is invisible. Why should one search for the footprints of the patriarchs? I go to the marketplace with my wine bottle and return home with my staff. I visit the wineshop and the market, and everyone I look upon becomes enlightened.
    

For more commentary and the actual pictures, see Zen Flesh, Zen Bones and An Introduction to Zen Training.

After completely realizing one's true self (finding/herding the ox), one returns to the world to help all creatures. This stage transcends holiness -- in fact the enlightened person forgets about enlightenment.

At this ultimate stage of enlightenment, nobody, "even one thousand sages", can tell any longer whether he is a fool or a clever man, and whether he is sacred of profane. To such an extent has he lost his own identity, whether he is enlightened or unenlightened, good or bad, male or female. In addition, he has completely deprived himself of his beauty gained at any cost. It does not matter to him at all now, if others call him a lunatic or a traitor. He is, therefore, no longer bound to external laws in his freedom, and no longer arrested by any moral codes in his self-liberation. He is capable of acting freely at will in accordance with his varying opportunities and circumstances without necessarily restricting himself to the "good examples set by his wise predecessors."

Although I would not presume to have even seen the ox's droppings yet, I chose to tattoo the tenth ox herding image on my back as a reminder -- Sentient beings are numberless. I vow to save them all.. I first glimpsed then stepped on the Bodhisattva path a few years ago. They say once you start walking the path, you never leave it.

Now, if someone asks why I got that tattoo, I can repeat what I just wrote. Or, to save time, "I got it because it looks cool and stuff."

I always wonder why people ask me why I do this or that. The latest question is, "Why do you have a mohawk?" Well, geeze, I don't know why. Does anyone expect a profound answer? "I want to get in touch with my Native American roots." Nah, sorry. There's no profound answer.

More often than not I've found that the question "Why?" is actually meant as a statement -- "I disagree with you. Explain yourself." Other people, I think, reflexively ask "Why?" when they see unusual things or behavior. As a result, I tend to give bogus answers whenever the question arises. I should apologize for being unresponsive to anyone who honestly wants to know why. I've heard so many people ask questions without listening to the answers that I just assume nobody cares.

In defense of "Why?", I find myself constantly asking that question. Everything I do at work -- "Why? What's the point?", when playing music -- "Why play it like that?", when reading the news, etc. Every time I put the camera to my face I ask "Why?". What am I trying to show? Why would I capture this moment? It's a very serious process.

So I shouldn't be hard on people who ask why. After all, doesn't the question point to the ultimate quandary -- "Why am I here?", or "Who am I?". Asking others why they do the things they do leads us one step closer to asking ourselves why we do what we do and one step closer to understanding.

And if "the unexamined life is not worth living", then what more meaningful question exists than "Why?"

Today is that artificial holiday, Mother's Day. Saturday morning I was woken up between 3 and 4am by the sound of my mother hammering nails into some cabinets she's making. And last week I got to hear her drilling screws into the wall (stripping every one of them) at about 5am.

So for mother's day I thought about doing some construction of my own, at 2 in the morning. There's nothing like a jackhammer to ring in such an important holiday!

But that wouldn't be very nice. Instead, my gift to her is just being myself. I figure, when you have a son like me, every day is cause for celebration. Am I right or am I right?

I've never felt that kind of pain on my spine. The needle seemed to hit my nerves at times, though I know that's not the case. As painful as it was, I didn't feel nauseous like I did the first time. But I did bleed quite a bit.

I'm bandaged now to keep from staining everywhere. I can't look at it until tomorrow. Then I'll know whether it was worth so much money and irritation.

I'm going to bed with a burning spine and an ancient piece of art permanently etched into my skin.