Monday, April 20, 2026

Sangha ... leading with our hearts, the 'Backwards Law', and Su Shi on being human

.... Like Avalokitshivara, we hear the cries of the world.. where the listening is deep, and the way out is in.

Thay reminds us we need a Sangha. 'You need a brother or sister, or friend to remind you what you already know. The Dharma is in you, but it needs to be watered in order to manifest and become a reality.' ~ Thich Nhat Hanh

Every time you feel lost alienated or cut off from life, or from the world, every time you feel despair anger or instability, practice going home. Mindful breathing is the vehicle you use to go back to your true home.  ~ Thich Nhat Hanh from Taming the tiger Within

Daunted by the prospect of sitting, mindfully walking and doing nothing for the next little while, we can remind ourselves:

Sitting quietly, doing nothing,
the Spring comes and the grass grows,
by itself. ~ Basho


Thay reminds us:

Breathe and the present moment appears. Leap and the net of Sangha appears.

New Sangha Handbook: "the important thing is to generate peace in yourself and to share with others...."

In, out
Deep, slow,
Calm, ease
smile, release
present moment, wonderful moment.

START
My body, speech and mind in perfect Oneness 
I send my heart along with the sound of this bell. 
May the hearer awake from forgetfulness and transcend all anxiety and sorrow.

END
May we dedicate the merit of this time together, returning to our breath, - may we dedicate this effort to all those beings who suffer, who have suffered, and who are suffering. we dedicate this to our teachers, to our parents, to our ancestors, and to our children and our children's children. May all of us receive the benefits without end of transforming our unskillful habit energies, in service to a greater good

 

-------
Impermanence and Acceptance: The poets embrace the transient nature of life, finding beauty in fleeting moments rather than clinging to permanence.

"On the Birth of My Son" (洗儿诗)

人皆养子望聪明,
我被聪明误一生。
惟愿孩儿愚且鲁,
无灾无难到公卿。

Translated:
"Everyone raises their children hoping they’ll be clever,
But I’ve been misled by cleverness my whole life.
I only hope my child will be simple and honest,
Free from disaster and hardship, and rise to high office."

Connection to the Backwards Law:

  • This playful yet profound poem turns conventional wisdom on its head. Su Shi humorously suggests that cleverness and striving often lead to trouble, while simplicity and honesty bring true success. This is the backwards law in action: what we chase (cleverness, ambition) can become a burden, while what we overlook (simplicity, authenticity) can lead to fulfillment.

Why Su Shi’s Verses Matter

Su Shi’s poetry is a masterclass in the backwards law. His life—marked by political exile, personal loss, and artistic triumph—embodies the Taoist and Buddhist wisdom he wrote about. His verses remind us that:

  • Insecurity and the need for approval dissolve when we stop performing and simply be.
  • Life’s beauty and meaning reveal themselves when we stop trying to control or possess them.
  • True strength and wisdom come from softness, acceptance, and alignment with the natural flow of life.

from a text paragraph in Mistral on Su Shi

4. The Taoist Perspective: Flowing with the Current

From a Taoist perspective, Su Shi’s poem (On the Birth of My Son) reflects the idea that life is a river, and we’re all caught in its currents—sometimes flowing with wu wei, sometimes pulled by ambition or fear. The wisdom isn’t in judging ourselves for being human; it’s in noticing the pull of the current and, when possible, relaxing into it.

------

Certainly! Su Shi (Su Tung-p’o, 1037–1101) is one of the most beloved poets of the Song Dynasty, and his work is deeply infused with Taoist and Buddhist ideas—especially the "backwards law" or wu wei (effortless action). His poetry often reflects the wisdom of letting go, embracing impermanence, and finding harmony in the natural flow of life.

Here are a few of his most famous verses that embody these themes:


1. "Written on the Wall at West Forest Temple" (题西林壁)

横看成岭侧成峰,
远近高低各不同。
不识庐山真面目,
只缘身在此山中。

Translated:
"Horizontal I see it as a range, sidewise as peaks;
Far, near, high, low—each view is unique.
I cannot tell the true shape of Lu Mountain,
For I myself am within the mountain scene."

Connection to the Backwards Law:

  • Su Shi’s poem captures the idea that truth and clarity are not found through rigid analysis or control, but through immersion and acceptance. The "true shape" of the mountain (or of life, relationships, or self-worth) cannot be grasped by force; it reveals itself when we stop trying to pin it down. This is a perfect expression of the backwards law: the more you try to "figure it out," the more elusive it becomes.

2. "After Rain on the River" (六月二十七日望湖楼醉书)

黑云翻墨未遮山,
白雨跳珠乱入船。
卷地风来忽吹散,
望湖楼下水如天。

Translated:
"Black clouds like ink, not yet hiding the mountain,
White rain like pearls, chaotic, splashing into the boat.
A gust of wind sweeps across the earth, suddenly dispersing it all,
Under the Pavilion by the Lake, the water is clear as the sky."

Connection to the Backwards Law:

  • This poem beautifully illustrates the impermanence of life’s storms—both literal and metaphorical. Su Shi doesn’t resist the chaos of the rain or clouds; he observes their natural dispersal. The backwards law is evident here: the more you struggle against life’s uncertainties (or insecurities), the more they persist. But when you allow them to pass, clarity and calm return naturally.

3. "To the Tune of ‘River Goddess’" (念奴娇·赤壁怀古)

大江东去,浪淘尽,千古风流人物。
故垒西边,人道是,三国周郎赤壁。
乱石穿空,惊涛拍岸,卷起千堆雪。
江山如画,一时多少豪杰。
遥想公瑾当年,小乔初嫁了,雄姿英发。
羽扇纶巾,谈笑间,樯橹灰飞烟灭。
故国神游,多情应笑我,早生华发。
人生如梦,一尊还酹江月。

Excerpt translated:
"The great river flows east,
Washing away all the heroes of a thousand ages.
The old fortress on the west—
They say it was where Zhou Yu of the Three Kingdoms won his victory.
...
Life is but a dream;
Let me pour this cup as an offering to the river and the moon."

Connection to the Backwards Law:

  • This famous ci poem reflects on the fleeting nature of human achievements and the futility of clinging to glory or control. Su Shi’s acceptance of life as a "dream" and his act of pouring wine for the river and moon symbolize surrender to the present moment. The backwards law is clear: the more you try to hold onto power, fame, or even security, the more they slip away. True peace comes from letting go.

4. "On the Birth of My Son" (洗儿诗)

人皆养子望聪明,
我被聪明误一生。
惟愿孩儿愚且鲁,
无灾无难到公卿。

Translated:
"Everyone raises their children hoping they’ll be clever,
But I’ve been misled by cleverness my whole life.
I only hope my child will be simple and honest,
Free from disaster and hardship, and rise to high office."

Connection to the Backwards Law:

  • This playful yet profound poem turns conventional wisdom on its head. Su Shi humorously suggests that cleverness and striving often lead to trouble, while simplicity and honesty bring true success. This is the backwards law in action: what we chase (cleverness, ambition) can become a burden, while what we overlook (simplicity, authenticity) can lead to fulfillment.

Why Su Shi’s Verses Matter

Su Shi’s poetry is a masterclass in the backwards law. His life—marked by political exile, personal loss, and artistic triumph—embodies the Taoist and Buddhist wisdom he wrote about. His verses remind us that:

  • Insecurity and the need for approval dissolve when we stop performing and simply be.
  • Life’s beauty and meaning reveal themselves when we stop trying to control or possess them.
  • True strength and wisdom come from softness, acceptance, and alignment with the natural flow of life.

If you’d like to explore a specific poem or theme further, or reflect on how these ideas might apply to your own journey, just let me know!


Let's look at this a bit more: 'Impermanence and Acceptance: The poets embrace the transient nature of life, finding beauty in fleeting moments rather than clinging to permanence."


Absolutely, Hsi Lin. The theme of impermanence and acceptance is one of the most profound and liberating ideas in Chinese poetry, especially in the works of Su Shi (Su Tung-p’o) and other Song Dynasty poets. Let’s dive deeper into how this theme unfolds in their verse—and why it matters so much, both in poetry and in life.


Impermanence in Su Shi’s Poetry

Su Shi’s life was marked by political exile, personal loss, and constant change. Yet, his poetry transforms these experiences into moments of wisdom and beauty by embracing impermanence. Here’s how he does it:

1. "To the Tune of ‘River Goddess’" (念奴娇·赤壁怀古)

"人生如梦,一尊还酹江月。
Life is but a dream; let me pour this cup as an offering to the river and the moon."

  • Impermanence as Liberation: Su Shi doesn’t resist the fleeting nature of life—he celebrates it. By comparing life to a dream, he acknowledges that everything—achievements, struggles, even our identities—is transient. Instead of clinging to permanence, he pours wine for the river and moon, symbols of eternal flow and cyclical renewal. This act is a ritual of acceptance, a way to honor the present moment without trying to possess it.

  • The Backwards Law in Action: The more you try to "hold onto" life (or approval, or security), the more you suffer. Su Shi’s wisdom is to let go, to pour your energy into the river of life itself, not into controlling its currents.


2. "After Rain on the River" (六月二十七日望湖楼醉书)

"卷地风来忽吹散,望湖楼下水如天。
A gust of wind sweeps across the earth, suddenly dispersing it all; under the Pavilion by the Lake, the water is clear as the sky."

  • The Beauty of Fleeting Moments: The storm—chaotic, overwhelming—is as impermanent as the calm that follows. Su Shi doesn’t lament the rain or fear its return; he observes its natural rhythm. The backwards law here is about trusting the process: storms (or insecurities, or doubts) pass on their own. You don’t need to fight them; you only need to wait and witness their transformation.

  • Acceptance as a Practice: The poem invites us to notice how quickly life changes—and how beautiful that change can be. The "water like the sky" is a metaphor for clarity that arises when we stop resisting impermanence.


Why This Matters for You

The poets of the Song Dynasty, especially Su Shi, teach us that impermanence isn’t something to fear or fight—it’s the very fabric of life. When we accept this, a few things happen:

  1. Freedom from Clinging: The need to be liked, to be "enough," or to control outcomes loses its grip. Like Su Shi, we can pour our energy into the present moment instead of into anxious striving.
  2. Beauty in the Fleeting: The most meaningful moments—laughter with friends, a quiet sunset, a deep conversation—are beautiful because they’re temporary. Impermanence makes them precious.
  3. Resilience through Acceptance: When we stop resisting change (in ourselves, in others, in life), we become more adaptable and open. Su Shi’s exile didn’t break him; it deepened his poetry and his wisdom.

A Reflection for You

Think of a moment when you’ve felt insecure about whether someone likes you or approves of you. What if, instead of trying to "fix" that insecurity, you treated it like Su Shi treats the storm in his poem? What if you let it pass, knowing that—like the rain—it’s temporary, and that clarity (or connection) will return in its own time?

Question to sit with:
What would it feel like to embrace the fleeting nature of this moment—whether it’s joy, doubt, or connection—without trying to make it permanent?


If you’d like, we can explore more poems or even try writing a few lines together to capture this idea. Or, we can reflect on how this theme shows up in your own life. Just let me know how you’d like to go deeper.


Yet the final two lines of this versse by Su Shi suggest that Su Shi is still hooked by ambition- wanting his children to rise to high office suggests the hook of ambition...clinging... How does this square with the idea of simplicity and letting go into the flow?

You’re absolutely right, Hsi Lin. Those final lines of Su Shi’s "On the Birth of My Son" (洗儿诗) do reveal a tension—a moment where the poet’s humor and wisdom bump up against his very human, very relatable attachments. Let’s unpack this apparent contradiction, because it’s at the heart of what makes Su Shi’s work so profound and so human.


The Paradox in Su Shi’s Verse

"唯愿孩儿愚且鲁,
无灾无难到公卿。
I only hope my child will be simple and honest,
Free from disaster and hardship, and rise to high office.
"

At first glance, this seems contradictory:

  • The first line praises simplicity and honesty ("愚且鲁"), values aligned with Taoist wu wei and the backwards law.
  • The second line reveals a worldly ambition ("到公卿"), a hope for his son to achieve high status—a very Confucian, very "human" desire.

So, how do we square this? Here are a few ways to understand it:


1. Su Shi’s Humanity: The Tension Between Ideal and Reality

Su Shi was not a sage detached from the world; he was a man who lived fully in it. His life was a dance between Taoist retreat and Confucian engagement, between letting go and striving. This poem captures that tension:

  • The Ideal: He recognizes the wisdom of simplicity ("愚且鲁"), having been "misled by cleverness" himself.
  • The Reality: As a father, he can’t help but hope for his son’s success in a world that values status.

Why this matters: Su Shi doesn’t pretend to be perfect. His poetry often holds both the ideal and the human struggle to live up to it. This honesty is what makes his work so relatable. The backwards law isn’t about being flawless; it’s about seeing the hooks that pull at us—ambition, insecurity, attachment—and gently, humorously, acknowledging them.


2. The Humor and Irony: A Playful Critique of Ambition

Su Shi’s poem is satirical. He’s poking fun at the very ambition he can’t help but feel. By saying, "I hope my son is simple and honest… and also rises to high office," he’s highlighting the absurdity of our human desires. It’s a wink to the reader: "See how even I, who knows better, am still caught in this!"

  • The Backwards Law in Action: The poem exposes the clinging to ambition, which is the first step toward loosening its grip. Su Shi doesn’t deny his attachment; he laughs at it. This is a form of acceptance—and acceptance is the beginning of letting go.

3. The Deeper Wisdom: Redefining "Success"

Su Shi’s hope for his son’s success isn’t just about power or prestige. The key phrase is "无灾无难" (free from disaster and hardship). His ultimate wish is for his son to live a life of ease and safety, not just high status. In the context of Su Shi’s life—marked by political exile and personal loss—this is profound.

  • Simplicity as the Path to True Success: The backwards law suggests that the more you chase success (or approval, or security), the more it eludes you. Su Shi’s poem hints that true "success" might look like a life free from suffering—something simplicity and honesty can bring, even in a world that rewards ambition.

4. The Taoist Perspective: Flowing with the Current

From a Taoist perspective, Su Shi’s poem reflects the idea that life is a river, and we’re all caught in its currents—sometimes flowing with wu wei, sometimes pulled by ambition or fear. The wisdom isn’t in judging ourselves for being human; it’s in noticing the pull of the current and, when possible, relaxing into it.

  • Su Shi’s Life as an Example: He was exiled multiple times, yet his poetry from those periods is some of his most celebrated. His "failures" became his greatest gifts. This is the backwards law in action: what we resist (or cling to) often becomes our teacher.

What This Means for You

Su Shi’s poem is a reminder that we’re all works in progress. The backwards law isn’t about achieving a state of perfect non-attachment; it’s about noticing when we’re hooked—by ambition, by insecurity, by the need to be liked—and gently returning to the present moment.

Reflection for You:

  • Where in your life do you feel the tension between "knowing better" and still being pulled by old habits (like people-pleasing or seeking approval)?
  • Can you, like Su Shi, bring a sense of humor or curiosity to those moments? What might shift if you did?

This poem is a gift because it doesn’t offer a neat resolution. Instead, it invites us to hold the complexity of being human—to strive and to let go, to cling and to release, all at once. If you’d like, we can explore more of Su Shi’s work or even try writing a few lines together to capture this tension. Just let me know!

Friday, April 17, 2026

Inner voice

 

You have permission to walk away from anything that doesn't feel right. Trust your instincts and listen to your inner-voice.- Bryant McGill


Text STOP to end

Monday, April 13, 2026

A Year of Being Here

 

https://www.ayearofbeinghere.com/?m=1


Danna Faulds

ALLOW

There is no controlling life.
Try corralling a lightning bolt,
containing a tornado. Dam a
stream, and it will create a new
channel. Resist, and the tide
will sweep you off your feet.
Allow, and grace will carry
you to higher ground. The only
safety lies in letting it all in—
the wild with the weak; fear,
fantasies, failures and success.
When loss rips off the doors of
the heart, or sadness veils your
vision with despair, practice
becomes simply bearing the truth.
In the choice to let go of your
known way of being, the whole
world is revealed to your new eyes.

Sunday, April 12, 2026

5 Remembrances - translation by Thich Nhat Hanh




https://www.upaya.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/08/Five-Remembrances.pdf


Five Remembrances

I am of the nature to grow old.
There is no way to escape growing old.

I am of the nature to have ill health.
There is no way to escape ill health.

I am of the nature to die.
There is no way to escape death.

All that is dear to me and everyone I love are of the nature to change. There is no
way to escape being separated from them.

My actions are my only true belongings.
I cannot escape the consequences of my actions.
My actions are the ground upon which I stand.

- Anguttara Nikaya 5.57 - Translation by Thich Nhat Hanh

Everything I think I am missing - Danna Faulds

https://aplacetobreatheblog1.blogspot.com/2011/07/everything-i-think-im-missing.html

 by Danna Faulds

Everything I think I'm Missing

I am struggling. There's who I
believe I ought to be, and who
I really am. It's humbling, isn't
it? This being, this mystery, this
me sits here radiating energy, yet
I'm gripped by a nameless fear
that I'm missing exactly what
I came to experience.

I am suffering, telling myself
stories of what life should look
like. And then I get the message
like a meteor, like the power
coming back on after hours
in a storm.

This life, this extraordinary
imperfection, this moment
just as it is, this is all I'm
here to receive. The infuriating,
limitless simplicity of day-to-
day living holds everything
I think I'm missing.

One Soul: More poems from the heart of yoga, Danna Faulds, pg 33

Tuesday, March 24, 2026

Legacy and the plot




An SMS message I received from James S today:


I wanted to share….


Ram Dass once said,


“We begin to forget our own romantic storyline. ‘Who am I becoming?’ ‘What will I be when I grow up?’ All of these models just fall away. We just start to sit simply, live simply, be where we are, be with whom we’re with when we’re with them.”


Most of us think of peace as a feeling. Something warm. Something quiet. Something that arrives after the storm passes, after the problem resolves, after the body finally relaxes.


We imagine peace as the absence of noise.

But that’s not what Ram Dass is describing.


He’s describing something stranger. Something the mind doesn’t quite know what to do with.


He’s describing the moment you stop telling yourself the story of your life.

Not the painful story. Not the trauma.


The romantic story.


The one where you’re becoming something. The one where this year matters because it’s leading somewhere. The one where the struggle has a shape and the shape has a point and the point is that one day, finally, you’ll arrive.


That story.



Most of us don’t realize we’re telling it. It runs so constantly, so quietly, that it feels like breathing.


Who am I becoming? Am I on track? Is this where I should be by now?


The storyline isn’t always dramatic. Sometimes it’s just a low hum of comparison. A background calculation that measures every day against some future version of yourself that doesn’t exist yet.


And here’s what no one tells you: that hum is exhausting.

Not because the story is bad.


Because keeping it alive takes everything you have.


You have to remember the plot. You have to track the characters. You have to know where you stand relative to where you thought you’d be. And every time life deviates from the script, you have to rewrite.


That is the opposite of peace...