"How Big Is Your Zen?"

(66)

“Interconnected”

Water, rock, plant.

You, me, all.

Past, present, future…

Interconnected!

(82)

“Marriage Zen” 

Boy! It’s hard to be married sometimes!

I suppose I’m not the first person 

To have thought that thought, am I?

Not by a long shot, eh?

I’m positive my wife

Has thought it more than once.

I can’t blame her.

Being married to me isn’t easy!

But being a zen man,

I try to understand

That life is full of suffering

For human beings.

(And all other creatures too, 

But I’m just talking about 

Married creatures now.)

Yes, we all must suffer!

Especially it seems 

For the sake of love.

But if she were listening,

Instead of giving me a beautiful example

Of The Silent Treatment,

And I were speaking,

Instead of hiding in my office

Typing on a keyboard,

I would want to say

To my life-partner;

I Love You.

Are you listening,

Dear wife?

I’ll say it again.

From my heart to yours.

I love you.

Whatever we’re fighting about today

Won’t be important 

A thousand years from now.

I guarantee it.

Only the love we shared

Will be important.

Come, hold my hand

As we journey together 

Toward infinity.

Love

(And zen)

Will show us the way.

(84)

“How Big?”

“How big is your zen?”

A student once asked me.

“That’s an easy one,” I answered.

“My zen is very… er, big.

Or rather say it’s everywhere all around.

Or maybe never-ending is a better term for it.

All encompassing?

Hmmm.

I’m finding it a little 

Difficult to describe,” I admitted.

I was a little embarrassed

And wanted to change the subject.

So I added, “That’s zen for you!”

And shrugged my shoulders.

The students laughed,

And my ignorance 

Went undiscovered

For another day.

Zen!

Never Get Off The Merry-Go-Round! (Pt 2)

   Our flight was announced over the public address system. 

Don’t worry, it being an international flight, we had plenty of time.

“I love you, dad,” I said as I hugged him goodbye. 

Funny how hard it is to say sometimes.

“God bless you son,” said my dad.

“Thanks, dad,” I said, feeling uncomfortable as I always did whenever my dad granted god’s blessings upon me.

As if my dad could tell god whom to bless. 

“I’ll pray for you every night,” he added.

“Okay Dad,” I said. “If you want to.”

My father and I had never agreed about religion.

He had a very strong dose of it. 

I did not.

“Prayer works even when the person you pray for doesn’t believe,” he said good-naturedly for the ten-thousandth time. “God has a plan for you Rusty, even if you don’t realize it.”

“Okay, Dad,” I said, feeling uncomfortable as I always did whenever he started telling me that god had a plan for me. 

I like to make my own plans.

“Take care of yourself, son,” said my dad, changing the subject. “I know you’ll be fine.” He knew enough to stop pushing the god thing after a few minutes. We must have argued about god since I was eight-years-old. He never stopped trying, but search my heart as I may I just couldn’t feel it like he did. He smiled and looked me in the eye as he’d done since I could remember, so I knew something was coming. 

“Here,” he said softly. “I want you to have this. You never know what might happen…” 

He placed a golden ring in my hand. 

“This was your mother’s wedding ring,” he said. “I gave it to her over 35 years ago. I’m sure she’d be happy to think you have it now. It’s pure gold, if you ever need to er, hock it or something…”

I didn’t remember seeing the ring before. I was young when my mother died. I didn’t remember much about her at all.

“Thanks dad,” I said. “I’ll keep it safe and carry it for luck.”

“There’s an inscription inside,” said my dad quietly.

I lifted the ring to the light and read it.

“Rosella and Johnnie,” I read aloud. “Three, fifteen, fifty-two.”

“The day we were married,” said my dad.

“I know,” I replied. By a remarkable coincidence, I was born a year later, on the exact same date.

At least, that’s what they tell me. 

I was very young at the time, so I’ll have to take their word for it.

I hugged my father again and it felt good.

Sure, we disagreed about things sometimes, things big and little, but there was plenty of love and respect to make up for it.

Goodbye we said, good luck, and we hugged again.

Then he excused himself and left with my stepmother.

After waving them goodbye, the rest of us retired to the bar.

We enjoyed a drink and a laugh as our friends wished us bon voyage and happy landings. 

One by one we bid our friends adieu.

They’d still be here tomorrow.

Not us.

We’d be on the other side of the world.

To be continued...