Much Wisdom

You'll find posted here an exchange of correspondence that you may find both stimulating and amusing...

Recently, Koka (Evelyne) sent me an email asking: "Do you have a story with a Zen theme for our blog?"

Hoping to give myself time to review the myriad of short stories I've written (some published, some not), I replied: "What do you mean by 'Zen Theme'?"

Her reply:
"Anything that is inviting us to open or broaden our mind, has some wisdom, is down to earth, helps us to face reality, is coming from your heart, and turns us away from contemplating our own belly bottom"*
floored me with the thought that she's asking for everything including the kitchen sink. Because I'm not a Zen plumber, we discussed my not knowing what to write, and I mulled myself into the following:

Water is wet; fire is hot; the wind blows; and the earth is dense.
Undesired "weeds" flourish; whilst desired "flowers" wither and die.
The world/our life is as it is...warts and all.
That which is born will die.
Acceptance (not resignation) of the above provides liberation...a tacit understanding.

Evelyne (Koka) also suggested that she should use my story that was recently published in The Palm Beach Post because of its theme is the circle of life.
I present the gist of it as follow:

On a recent visit to Massachusetts to visit my sons and their families, I wound up on a beach at the foot of an out-cropping of house-sized boulders watching my sons and my grandsons scamper up and over the seaweed and barnacle-covered surfaces to get to the "good" fishing spots. Knowing that my arthritic knees and confused eyesight presented a valid danger, I suppressed my inner machismo's screeching of "Go ahead. You can do it.' and asked my 48-year-old son, Scott, for help. As he gripped my hand and voiced cautions as to where I should place my feet, time reversed itself to when I was gripping and guiding him as a toddler up these same, timeless rocks. Our eyes locked, and he croaked, "It all comes to full circle, doesn't it, dad?"

As we both grow older, Scott's noir, but Zen-like, humor often manifests with, "Dad, you're on your way to becoming just a photograph."

This is a statement of the isness/suchness of my/our life. Any critical emotions that the Truth of his words ignites create suffering.

Gassho,
Sid Bolotin

* ...English is not Koka's mother tongue...