I fear that I am beginning to resent Buddhists. In a most unbuddhist like manner, those drawn to cults of personality and isolated practice are by far the most limiting individuals I have met. Reverent and harmful. This may not be the same experience for most but in my case there is a scent of truth to it. The lingering sweetly foul odor of stagnation and ire – of decay and death – desire and stale incense. I’ve no wish to participate in the traditional Buddhist expressions of practice, to take the precepts, sit in a group or to present myself to a teacher. The essense of these practices have an appeal – a strong one- but ultimately it is without any real substance. I am content with the amount of attachment that I currently have and do not wish to color it with more religion and spice it with devotion. Spoiled meat is, of course, spoiled meat. A splash of devotion does little to the feast of maggots.
While Buddhists display some of the most desirable traits and some of the worst; I do not want to imitate much more than a small portion of it. I am content with my struggling householder existence and will leave the filthy robes and stale chants to those that wish to pretend that filth is ambrosa. Both are equally empty and I am fine abstaining from both. My practice is bland and stable; a movement from one moment to the next with some joys and struggles thrown in for color. I don’t want to broadcast my abilities or successes like a spoiled toddler. I can only channel this life and not past or future ones.
There is no need to collect objects and trickets as they are just small ornaments without meaning. While beautiful and desirable to gaze at; they pale in comparison to the beep of a dime-store egg timer and the lumps of a handmade cushion. The bleached bones of practice – ugly but sterile – grinning in the desert heat. While it would be an honor to be given a Buddhist name and swaddle myself in the warmth of self-importance and acheivement; I think I will stick to my bad poetry and poor prose.
The rumblings of titans and devas.
a hero of old
The dance of ghosts
and the enlightenment of ghouls.