Archived entries for Zen

target moving or moving target

“But, why?” When you are doing something that just lights you up and a new employee of Morgan Stanley asks this question, be peaceful in the faith and conviction that you are moving in a good direction.

I was effusively showing my old college buddy recent graphic studies and sketches I had been making based upon the incredible mathematical ratio known as the Golden Section. It is also called the Divine Proportion, and my introduction to it in a somewhat dusty, pedantic and oh-so-British tome from 1914 entitled The Curves of Life was my first glimpse into God in All Things. One of those old Royal Society types, Theodore Andrea Cook, had spent twenty years documenting how this mystical proportion and its concomitant spiral growth patterns underlie every form in nature. Leaves spiral around branches at the exact same ratio as sunflower seeds whirling in their meditative circles. Our own hearts beat with a rhythm proportionally the same as the spiral of every shell and the branching of every tree. I had been happily going pretty much nuts over all of this, throwing curves with my old compass and protractor on voluminous scraps of paper and then throwing paint and other messy marks on top. Sure, I was trying to make beautiful things. But, I realize now that what I was really doing was learning to be reverent in the presence of beauty, and learning that beauty is everywhere. My good friend admitted that it was all sort of cool, but really just wanted to know, “What are you trying to accomplish with this?”

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wrong the rights

Six Persimmons.”  “No, Five.”  “No, SIX.”  “FIVE.”  “The SIX Persimmons.”  “FIVE PERSIMMONS… and no ‘THE’!”

I was right. There were six. And, I was wrong. To even bother arguing about it. With a lover who was a gift and a wide-open door in my young life, no less. Oh, but I was the one who had taken the course on Asian Art.  I had studied this, the most revered ink painting in all of Zendom, in detail. I had oohed and aahed over those six perfectly imperfectly executed blobs of produce many times. The fact that the only thing worth meditating upon all this time, and all that this man was attempting to share with me, was Beauty… well, needless to say, I blew right past that on my way to Being Right.

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