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In Which I Take My Own Advice
In the middle of another
11-hour work day, not
Counting the time to
commute, the commute
Being the round trip walk
From home during which I
have been practicing japa–
Maha mrtyunjaya mantra–
For dear spirits recently
No longer in this body.In between the work,
Between those walks,
I stopped. I stopped
and smelled the roses.
Thus refreshed by visual
Beauty and warm sun
And intoxicating scent,
I had the energy to begin
Again–to continue,
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Om Mani Pedme Hung
On my way home from work, I heard the sounds of a crowd at the Capitol. I joined in to listen (Elizabeth Warren spoke shortly after I arrived) and chanted with my fellow citizens–the chant not “om mani pedme hung” nor “om mane padme hum,” but on this particular night, with this particular crowd, addressing this particular issue, “one more vote.”
Being out here over and over again regardless of hope of the immediate outcome being effectively influenced is a variation on tapas, on sadhana, on seva, on faith put into practice.
It seems that this monk and I are being drawn to the same places this week, though I am guessing our days are pretty different.
July 4, 2020
Protest is patriotic.






