Wednesday Photo: Look closely at the California poppies of the field
Over the weekend, my Dharma friend and Seiza teacher, Miki Nakura-sensei, was visiting from New York and taking the opportunity to teach Seiza meditation (Quiet Sitting) to the congregation where I am minister. On Sunday, for my thought for the day, I took the opportunity to continue to travel a line of thought suggested by Jesus’ call to ‘look closely’ at the lilies of the field, the birds of the air and the grass of the field, and Bashō’s call to ‘look closely’ at the Shepherd’s Purse. Should you wish, you can read my two short pieces at the following links, the second of which links directly to the practise of Seiza meditation:
Looking Closely: The overlooked word in the teaching of the lilies of the field
Consider the lilies and the birds . . . and don’t forget the carpenter and his plumb-line
Anyway, following the Morning Gathering of Mindful Meditation, Music and Conversation, and the Seiza session following, I took Miki on a walk out of Cambridge onto Grantchester Meadows, and then on to Grantchester itself and the Green Man pub. While we were sitting in the beer garden, enjoying a pint of Ghost Ship, Miki pulled out a book he was reading and pointed to a short passage by the great D. T. Suzuki called, ‘The Spiritual Energy of Plants’ which clearly related to my thought for the day, and that of the previous week. For your pleasure, I reproduce it here to accompany my ‘Wednesday Photo’ of the ‘California poppies of the field’ blooming on Midsummer Common on a hot Tuesday afternoon.
The Spiritual Energy of Plants
— D. T. Suzuki, in Contemplations of a Zen Practitioner —
Plants and all other living things possess a kind of indescribable fascination. When I see a bud sprouting—a process we share—I feel an indescribable sense of nostalgia. To view the doctrine that ‘grasses, trees, and the land all attain Buddhahood’ as a single philosophical idea is a challenging assertion, yet it is, ultimately, a matter of intuition.
Even from a single daffodil, a pulse of spiritual energy is transmitted directly to me. When it comes to boiling and eating such things, even in the case of humble root vegetables, I cannot help but feel a sense of pity.
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