Posts Tagged ‘buddhism’

We should be especially grateful for having to deal with annoying people and difficult situations, because without them we would have nothing to work with. Without them, how could we practice patience, exertion, mindfulness, loving-kindness or compassion? It is by dealing with such challenges that we grow and develop.
—Judy Lief, “Train Your Mind: Be Grateful to Everyone”

See how lucky you are
that I’ve brought you
these baskets of woe.
It is your blessing
that I am stubborn,
that I cannot fix
my own car, that
I would rather write poems
than sweep or dust.
That habit I have
of interrupting you,
that is your benefit.
My aversion to bathing,
your good fortune.
How else would you grow
if I did not break your heart?
But it is not to annoy you
that I am myself. Nor is it
malicious that I am always
the last person to leave
a party. That I stay up
too late. That I lied.
It’s just that you’re lucky,
such fortune, such luck,
all these baskets of woe
I serve you every day.

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Contemplating the unattractive nature of the body debilitates sensual lust, the first of the five hindrances … By mentally dissecting the body into its organs, tissues and fluids, we see that “the mark of the beautiful” that fuels sensual desire is merely a subjective projection superimposed on a collection of unappealing parts.
—Bhikkhu Bodhi, “The Four Protective Meditations,” Tricycle, Summer 2012

My dear, the Buddhist monk could not have known
when he suggests my mind dissect your parts
how beautiful your lungs, medulla, bones.

Such gold streams through your bile ducts! I’d clone
your pineal gland. Your thymus is fine art.
My dear, the Buddhist monk could not have known

the curve of your amygdale, how toned
your cerebellum, spleen so red so dark,
how beautiful your pancreas, your bones.

I’d make mosaics of your kidney stones
and build an altar for your muscled heart.
My dear, the Buddhist monk could not have known

how all your parts appeal so. I’ve grown
to love your splanchnopleura, liver marks,
your beautiful esophagus, your bones,

your hypothalamus, untamed hormones.
My favorite? Man, I don’t know where to start.
I’m sure that Buddhist monk could not have known
how beautiful your ganglions, your bones.

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