Birth, Death and Rebirth in Buddhism

Reblogged from Essays in Idleness:

Recently I've been avidly reading a Buddhist book sent to me by a certain reader last year (thank you Ashin S.) titled How to Live Without Fear And Worry by the late Ven. K Sri. Dhammananda. In particular, I found an interesting passage on page 121:

The mystery of birth and death is very simple. The coming together of mind and matter – also known as the five aggregates – is called birth.

Read more… 740 more words

A mystery plainly explained. There is no mystery.

Buddha, Kate, Bertolucci and Seung Sahn

Found as posted by Paul Lynch on Google+, a post from a Blogspot blog: http://chanpoetry.blogspot.ca/2012/09/growing-up-and-so-is-love.html

Buddha painting in progress III

Buddha painting in progress II

Just doesn’t work for me. Probably some interesting stuff in the field around the figure. Hold up your fingers to block it out. It starts to work then.

Buddha painting in progress

an image in progress

From blog pics

Trungpa Rinpoche on warriors

“If the warrior does not feel alone and sad, then he or she can be corrupted very easily. In fact, such a person may not be a warrior at all. To be a good warrior, one has to feel sad and lonely, but rich and resourceful at the same time. This makes the warrior sensitive to every aspect of phenomena: to sights, smells,… sounds, and feelings. In that sense, the warrior is also an artist, appreciating whatever goes on in the world. Everything is extremely vivid. The rustling of your armor or the sound of rain drops falling on your coat is very loud. The fluttering of occasional butterflies around you is almost an insult, because you are so sensitive.” –

Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche via Rev. Danny Fisher

Hazy moon

Sitting tonight watching a hazy cottonball of a moon. It sits up there in a dusk clear sky with no clouds. Or so it seems.

It’s hazy because it’s shining through a very moist damp sky, a watery filter we can’t see.

Then occasionally a dusky blue cloud the very same colour as the sky passes in front of it and the moon goes dark, hidden by a cloud that can’t be seen.

Then it’s revealed again as that indistinguishable thought passes.

This comes and goes.

No positive.
No negative.
No up nor down.
Not inside or outside.
Even that space before these things arise
That space which is wanted
Must be abandoned
When it is found.

It can’t be lost because that means a seeker.
It can’t be found by anyone who is looking.
Sit. Just! Sit.
It rains.

Cancelled Catholic Comment

I received this from the authour of  Catechism On Call in response to a comment on Catholic Heaven vs. Buddhist Nirvana.

Thank you for your comment. I’ve decided not to publish it and I wanted to tell you why. I’ve looked at it a few times, and I don’t really understand the distinctions you draw.