have a zen filled day
zen is addictive~
have a zen filled day
have a zen filled day
A mother and daughter were having fun when the mother asked, “do you want an apple?”
The little girl jumps up, “yes, I’ll get them.” she said excited and run to the kitchen and returned with two apples. The little girl took a bite out of one apple and then turned her head and took a bite out of the second apple.
The mother was upset and asked, “why did you do that? Don’t eat both. Don’t I get one, that was wrong.”
The little girl handed the mother an apple and said, “I was seeing which one was sweetest so I could give it to you.”
Moral~ Don’t be so eager to judge.
have a zen filled day
We are getting settled into our new home / land. It is a big job and a lot to do, but there is a row of bushes that are tall and wild. I cut them back and trimmed them and they look amazing and full, now. A little attention goes a long way, that is in everything I suppose.
have a zen filled day
They say there was a mountain that was so high, that all you needed was a ladder to get to heaven. People came from all over the world to attempt to climb to heaven but when they got there they found that in order to get to heaven you have to fight the dragon and the dragon has never lost a fight. So basically in order to get to heaven you have die. Not very many people attempted to fight a dragon that would win.
I was reading an article the other day, about how when we get cold, we find a way to get warm. When we are hot we find a way to get cool. We find a way to make ourselves comfortable. The shaolin monks make themselves accept what is and makes the body find a way to adapt to the surroundings.
We have a conception that in heaven everything is perfect. No heat, no cold, no hunger, no pain. Accept what is… until the day you go to heaven and you will get a taste of heaven before you reach the stairway to heaven.
A master was walking with a student when the student turned and asked the master, “what is the most important thing in life.”
The master replied with, :”Choices.”
“I don’t understand ,” the student said with a confused tone in his voice.
“Your life is a compilation of all the memories you have acquired in life. Which is a direct result of all the choices you have made.” The two walked along as the student allowed this to soak in.
So, how can I be sure I make the right choices in the future?” The student asked.
“There is a pile of gold and a pile of dirt. Which is more valuable? Which would you choose, if you were given a choice of which pile you could have?” The master asked.
“The gold of course.” The student blurted out.
“Why, it is the dirt that is important to a seed. Dirt can grow food. What can gold do?”
The student blurted out. “I could buy land, cattle, horses and build a barn and grow crops. I could get a wife and have children. And my children would not suffer because I could afford to manage them.”
But, you did not mention the most important thing.” The master stated.
“What is that? The student asked with a puzzled look on his face.
“Seed.” The master replied. “You need seed to make a family and you did not mention seed when you stated you would buy land, cattle and a barn. The thought of being rich clouds judgement. And as for managing your children. A seed that grows from adversity is stronger than a plant in a farmers row.” The two walked for a moment when the master added. “There is no perfect answer, just that your life is a compilation of your memories. I think a pile of gold could make some good memories. Till the gold run out.” The master grinned.
by Art (~_~) 2015
A new monk arrives at the monastery. He is assigned to help the other monks in copying old texts by hand. He notices however that they are copying copies, not the original books.
So the new monk goes to the head monk to ask him about this. He points out that is there were an error in the first copy that error would be continued in all the other copies.
The head monk says, ” We have been copying the copies for centuries.But you make a good point, my son.”
So he goes down to the cellar with one of the copies to check it with the originals.Hours later, nobody has seen the head monk.
So, one of the monks go down to the cellar to look for him. He hears sobbing coming form the back of the cellar, and finds the head monk crying over one of the original books.
He asks, “What is wrong?”
“The word is celebrate.” The head monks says. “Not celibacy.”
I remember when Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans and a lot of people migrated to the Houston area, Refugees. My wife went to her parents house where they had a generator and I stayed with my nephews at the house and roughed it for eight days with out power/ electricity.
Recent floods in Texas has left us unable to get to our house that now sits over the river, or the river flows under our house making our house a house boat but mainly the roads are flooded and we can not get on the island where we live do to the river washed the bridge out. I have been wading in to keep the animals feed and pampered. I know what it feels like to be a refugee. We take so much for granite, going to work, coming home, taking a shower, eating and sleeping in our own beds. we have been staying at my in laws, about twenty miles away. So much going on all at the same time, with my wife’s car in the shop, the motor is destroyed due to driving in high water and it will be 3,500.00 to repair. But we have our health and each other.
I can only imagine the holocaust in Germany, or the camps for the Japanese here in America. It seems like disasters test our reserve, our strengths and our patience. I am a patient man (I am told) but I am ready for things to get back to normal. Mother nature has a way of waking us up from our complacency. I will get back to posting zen stories as soon as I can get a calm in the storm of emotions we here in Texas have been plagued with.
Remember, we can find zen in anything…I was walking through the water the other morning, 6 am and it was quiet and the sun was coming up and I was at peace with the world. Then came a big splash about 2 foot from me and all I could think of was the alligators that have been spotted every where. When the water rises snakes go to higher ground and there is not mush dry ground left. I watched a hawk come flying close and thought how cool is that. It came really close and landed. I was so excited till I saw it swoop up a large snake that was about ten foot from me and I didn’t even know it was there.
I am officially a refugee for a little while, so stay safe have a zen-filled life (~_~) Art
Once upon a time in a land far removed from here stood a mule and a horse in a meadow filled with luscious grasses and sparkling waters. Neither animal had much to do so they both ate and drank to their hearts content. The mule told the horse that this was the life to live. There could be nothing better. The horse just neighed and kept eating. Eventually the day came that the stream dried up and the grass turned brown and inedible.
The horse knew enough to trust that his owner would soon come to care for him. The mule, on the other hand said he knew of another pasture where the water always flowed and the grasses never withered. He was desirous to seek it on his own. The horse, being the wiser of the two tried to stop his companion. He ran ahead of his friend and blocked his path. But the mule, being stubborn and bull headed simply lowered his head and butted the horse out of his way.
In short order, the animals owner did arrive. He called his horse and his mule. Only the horse responded. The mule had set out on his own search. The farmer told his faithful horse that he would lead him to a pasture where the waters never stopped flowing and the grasses were always green. “But you must follow me closely. The trail is narrow and twisted. The mountain on one side is steep and the valley floor is far below. Follow in my steps and you will arrive safely,” said the farmer. The horse recognized that he would soon be in the place the mule had described.
As the path grew narrow and dangerous, the horse was careful to step exactly where his owner lead him. And indeed the way was treacherous. Only the careful leading of the wise master kept them safe from sure destruction. Often the horse wondered how the mule could possibly find his way — or arrive safely to the place they were headed. At long last, the path once again descended into a valley. Indeed it was flowing with a continuous stream of living waters. Indeed the grasses were the lushest, richest, greenest grasses the horse had ever seen. But there was no mule to be seen.
Days passed and the mule never arrived. Weeks went by and still no mule. One day the horse was munching his grass close to the foot of the mountain which the treacherous path had circumvented. He absentmindedly bumped into an old leather bag laying on its side. There lay the mule, in the green pasture where the water never stopped flowing and the grass was always green — but life was not in him. He was broken and torn and withered and dead for the path had not been kind to the feet of the unsuspecting fool of an animal.
I was trying to put into perspective the way some people are (especially where I work) and I came up with this: Mules think they are a horse. They have four legs, hoofs, a mane and a tail. They think they are “studs” or a thorough bred and can do things better than others when in reality they are stubborn “jack asses.” That think they are a horse when in reality they are a sub-species.