No Hindrances

Reading this:

“Their faith is intertwined with their self-identity"

Brought to mind this line:
Indeed, there is nothing to be attained; the Bodhisattvas live this deepest wisdom ' with no hindrance in the mind, no hindrance therefore no fear.

I love that: No hindrances in the mind.

For Zoom

The dog can't move no more
Surprised he made it till the spring
His pain won't go away and the pills don't do a thing
You've know that ole hound longer
than you've known any of your friends
And no matter how you let him down
He'd always take you back again
So it's one tall glass of whiskey
One last drink for old times sake
The dog just lays in bed and watches every move you make
Wrap him in his blanket
Hold him once more close to you
Lead him out behind the barn
with a borrowed .22

Everything slips through these cold fingers
like trying to hold water, like trying to hold sand
Close your eyes and make wish and listen to the singer
"One more round bartender, pour a double if you can."

"These cold Fingers" - Bill Morrissey

Water over the bow

Enjoying the illusion of returning to the things of man to participate or at least witness the downfall of humanity led to the romantic idea of being one of the musicians on the titanic who played as it went down.
What greater image can there be?
Knowing full well the end is near and yet playing one's role to the fullest even when, especially when it seems futile and meaningless.

Lately, having been given exactly what I wanted and needed I've been preoccupied and often exhausted past caring as a member of a dysfunctional bucket brigade.
Long days, short nights and tangible insanity all around.

As the fire wanes, energy returns and my head rises above the waves and with that comes room.
Room for writing, feeling, music, both listening and even playing. Picking up the guitar again after many many years. The feel of the strings. The same guitar I've had for 30 years. an old friend. Worn and chipped and old, kinda like me. But a new set of strings and we're good to go.

Spinning Away

Those moments of least definition
Those times in between ISness
The space before and after
Without trying or effort
Without calling into being
Without names or identification or form
Without having to be any one, thing or more

With special thanks and nod to Eno/Cale: Wrong Way Up