Still Here, Just Lazy

Life on Steinstrasse has settled into walks around the town, coffees at Fontana (or, occasionally, Piccoli or Extra Blatt) and more walks around the town.  Just Sitting (Shikantaza, Zazen) is great for the mind, but leaves a lot for the hips and legs of an old fogie  to desire (meaning exercise).  I am round, like a Buddha, but not nearly as cool.  I still think about things that may not be useful on the path to enlightenment, and there are days when I can't remember where I left that path.  The mind has always been the object of my reflection, and as the time to leave this water bag that's housed it since the middle of the last century, gets closer, the more I try to reflect on the inner light that occasionally illuminates the outer world and occasionally takes me through the looking glass or down a rabbit hole.

To anyone seeking a spiritual path, I recommend Zen.  It is not cluttered with gods and saints, but with art and nature and calm and joy.  Once you find your rhythm, you'll fall out of fear and guilt and start enjoy life for what it is without trying to make it what it is not.  Sit quietly for twenty minutes in the morning and again in the evening.  Let your mind rest.  Any thoughts that wander in will wander out (IF you don't attach to them and start running scenarios).  Breathe slowly, and just follow your breath. 

Half past June

The Hoeker Fest has come and gone. It was a winner this year by virtue of weather. The Sun shone. The people came. They ate. They drank. At the end of it all, the vendors quietly packed their wagons and drove off into the might to count their money.

Usually, that's it until fall for the Goose Market, but the city's renovating the Market Hall, so we have an open-air market twice a week until they're done. My favorite butcher (Kuhn, out of Enger) is there with his wondersome Bolognese sauce and some one wicked salami. I'll take some photos this week.

Other than that, it's quiet on Steinstrasse. Mona Lisa's gone, but I still see Giovanni from time to time in my wanderings.

Hello Again, and Merry Christmas

For those of you who enjoy my meanderings, sorry for the memory lapse. I've so busy being , I've forgotten to massage my ego...

Here I am again, still wandering the backroads of the universe with a backpack and a camera.

The sacral 

and the festive

During the day, and into the night, the music plays, the bells ring and all the children are especially good.

They live in Wonderland!

Temporary Inconvenience...

 They , are replacing the water pipes in my section of the building today, I don't know what the Buddha of Our Time would say, but I say, oh well...

My apartment door is wide open so there's a draft on my back as I write this, and I can hear the neighbor ladies grousing it about from their entry-ways. It's a day in the life, no different than sitting in a cafe or a Zendo. I just have to remember to breathe!

KFC Comes to Bielefeld

The Colonel has arrived. Now we've got it all. BK, MC D, Pizza Hut, KFC. Maybe there's room for Windsor Hot Wings! It's not my fault, folks. I'm a big fan of German and Polish food and when I feel like a burger, my own are still the best.

Sunday as a Metaphor for.... Something

 I love Sundays. Church bells, families going to Grandma's house, taking walks together; afternoon coffee and conversation. Oh, yeah, the Sunday comics. We don't have them here, but back in the USA, I never missed a Sunday. I did, however miss a Sunday Mass or two.

Back then, Sundays were for wandering around the countryside looking for fishing holes, or watering holes. When no one else had the desire or the time, I would just go as far upriver as I could and still find a trout or a small-mouth bass. Early Summer and Early Fall were the best. The Weather today reminds me of those days. l sometimes miss the trout (and the family) but 'life is good, and so are the Universe and Everything. Sunday is a metaphor for 42.

Is Enlightenment Nirvana?

 I suppose this is the sort of question that drives many people mad. If you're one of them, apologies before the ramble. The question occurred to me the other day when talking to an acquaintance about mental models that make people physically ill and how "magic moments" change the mental model causing the physical problems to evaporate.

I have always believed that heaven and hell are ma to physical locations, but psychological conditions that follow the consciousness from one plane of existence (alternative reality, dimension, etc.) to the next. Enlightenment is a state of no-suffering resulting from practice. A Buddha is a perfectly enlightened being no longer subject to the cycle of births and deaths (or quantum leaps'). In this stateI (perfect) Enlightenment is Nirvana. Satori, or the fleeting glimpses of Nirvana which occur during meditation or after getting whacked in the head by an Roshi's stick is an indication that you're on the right path. Noticing a bird in a bush, a whale in a cloud, joy in another human can all have the effect of turning on the sensors. Keeping them on is a topic for another day.

The AI as a Bhoddisatva

However innumerable sentient beings are, I vow to save them.
However inexhaustible the defilements are, I vow to extinguish them.However immeasurable the dharmas are, I vow to master them.However incomparable enlightenment is, I vow to attain it.

If every processor in the system is programmed to start churning with this in mind and to compare its results with it, we won't be meeting the Terminator. 

As simple as it sounds, it's better than a kill switch.



sorry for the typo, folks.....

Hell in a Handbasket

 If you follow the news, it should be obvious (if you know anything about history) you may have noticed that we are experiencing our past. Holy wars. Empire building. Empires in decline. Nationalism. Fascism. The collapse of civilization.. .

... or maybe  just the  growing pains of an expanding universe.

It's a nice day. Somewhere else humans are killing each other because of their differences. In my here and now, I sit alone and try to re-imagine them, as any reasonable god should do. Not too long from now, intelligent machines may be doing the killing. It would be nice if they learn from their mistakes and use it to save all sentient beings.

And Now, May

I  lied about the hiking boots in April. I stayed sick for about three weeks. Since May's been here, I've put some miles on. The weather's been great and I've started building for a couple of good, long treks. Fifteen to twenty k a day is the goal. No mountain climbing or fording rivers, just good old walking with a full pack. The maps are out and the winter fat is starting to burn off,

Ahh April

The third, beautiful day of April. Warm and bright, and for me, unusable. I have been patmy back with a cold, or something. Friday and Saturday were a string of one hour maps with two minute bathroom breaks. Today, I've managed to stay awake, eat a little and spend some time on the balcony breathing!

Another day (or two) and I'll be putting on the hiking boots, strapping on the Nikon and enjoying myself.

Death in Lahore

To the "Martyr"who took so much life:
These were children of the book. Their deaths ensure you a place in your very own hell.

To the families of the dead:
Take refuge in your faith. Don't stop loving.

To the rest of the world:
Stop your hatred. Let go of your fears and learn compassion.

you wonder at the flux

Space and Time are always moving. Except for time. Time is an odd bit of human thinking. We use it to track the movement of space, but we take it personally. "oh, he's gotten old!" or "it seems like only yesterday." In the big picture, time is Now and space is Here. That's it. Here and Now, Anything more, and you're guessing. Anything less, and you're living in a memory which is,  most probably, not very accurate. As my Pop used to say: "stop guessing!"

It's really important to sit quietly and establish here and now. The only way to effect "then" is by being mindful in the here and now.  See things as they are,  think in a way that supports a positive outcome and  speak in a way that explains and describes your thinking, with no intention of gain or loss to speaker or listener. 

If I can get through one day without trying to be cool or "the smartest guy in the room" I am closer to being happy.

l see my life as continuous process improvement. I have Dr. W. Edwards Deming to thank for that.  When asked by someone how long they would have to accomplish what Deming called "The Aim", he answered: "As long as you live, young man. No longer."

That's the way of Zen, supported by the mental discipline of mindfulness and concentration, we pursue to take the right actions in the right livelihood, using the right effort.  In the same way that Deming's Plan-Do-Check-Act cycle goes on and on, the Great Wheel turns forever, driven by the steps we take on the path.

I Wonder Where I've Been

I just took a look at this place after posting earlier today and the first thing I noticed was the timing of my last two posts-Easter 2016 and Thanksgiving 2015.  I guess I missed Christmas and New Years.  I think my lack or productivity in this arena has to do with my zen practice.  I've been back at it for the last six years and I'm pretty content with my life.

Earlier in my life, writing and other forms of art which I casually practice were done in spurts of compulsiveness. For months at a time, I would makes thousands of photos, write hundreds of poems, and blog about it.

The only compulsion I've got these days is afternoon coffee and pastry.  I rarely miss them.  In the language of Zen, I'm attached and should probably cool it, but man, German cakes and pastries should not be ignored.  Sorry, Roshi, but I think you understand  :-)

Hey remember, this is a tongue in cheek look at the universe with only an occasional attempt at being serious, so like the parking problems and the rerouted traffic, I'm having fun, just like the thousands of kids who are going to enjoy the Easter Kirmis, regardless of where my friends with cars have to park.  As for me, I travel by foot and bus and train.....

Be happy. Given the approaching Spring, the will be hiking and photography, so stay tuned (if you find me amusing) and stay balanced.

Rabbits and Eggs, Mice, Men, Cabbages, and Kings

Stone Street is getting ready for Easter. The annual Kirmis (rides, food, and beer stands) begins on the 26th. The biggest complaint is traffic. The major street in our neighborhood, Auf der Freiheit, shuts down for two blocks, sending traffic on a detour. The second is parking. Cars start landing in private spots, illegal spots, and create roadblocks, frustration, confusion. All in the name of making a couple of thousand kids happy. I like it.

I've always loved Easter. The preparation of making pysanky (eggs decorated with wax designs, then dyed in mutt-colors), the making of bread, cooking of ham and sausage was always wonderful to the senses.  The stories of resurrection and the ceremonies accompanying them were all pomp and circumstance with processions and incense followed by the magnificent family breakfast.

The Rites of spring and the renewal of the human spirit, whether celebrated with Solemn High Mass, a box fire,  or a ride on a Ferris wheel, is a thing of beauty.

Happy Easter! Happy spring!

 May all Sentient Beings be Happy.

Thanksgiving and the Weihnachtsmarkt

The Christmas Season seems to have started early in Ostwestfalen this year.  Today is Thanksgiving in the USA and plain old Thursday here.  I remember the Weihnachtsmarkt opening on the Monday after the First Sunday in Advent, but this year it's the Monday before the first Sunday in Advent.  That may be a little too long for me.  It's thrown my planning off as well as my poor sense of time.
There's just so much bratwurst you can eat (although the pork chops and baked potatoes should be available on a full year basis).

The setup here in Herford is a little different than many.  The handcrafts are housed in the Rathaus Market Hall, which is separated from the rest of the stands and festivities and can easily be missed by those unfamiliar with it (it took me five years before I discovered it!) in the same way that the Gänsemarkt can be missed when people come to the end of Bäcker Strasse and look across the bridge and think 'There's nothing in this direction'.

Signs, or banners, or maps would be nice.

None of these criticisms are meant to be negative.  I used to do process improvement for a living, so I'm just trying to be helpful.  I love the Weihnachtsmarkt, not just the physical thing, but the concept. It's so much jollier and cozier than an indoor shopping mall, where you probably won't find baked potatoes.....

So, Happy Thanksgiving, America.  Come on over and visit before the New Year.  We can eat potatoes.

No News is Good Enough

I woke up this morning and nothing was right and nothing was wrong.  I was awake and aware of the floor beneath my feet.  I performed the usual rituals with my teeth and other parts of my body, made a pot of coffee and now it's two in the afternoon.  There was, between waking and writing, a walk to the grocery store, and a mid-day meal of homemade bruschetta.  I've been experimenting with various mixtures of vegetables and fish, hard cheeses, soft cheeses, on bread or with rice.  I'm still fat, but I'm having more fun cooking and eating. 


That is, of course, incidental.  The important part is that I am alive, which means there's nothing to complain about.  I sleep well, I eat good, I have a lot of fun reading, writing, carving, walking, and occasionally conversing in the national language of my adopted country.


There are birds to look at, the occasional hedgehog, spiders, caddis flies, and all sorts of interesting landscapes.  Gautama Buddha once said that have a robe and something to eat is all that you need. I've got khakis and blue jeans, t-shirts, and pullovers enough for an entire monastery and I've already told you about eating.


Another hundred years and I may well be enlightened.

rain slows me down

it has been raining on the street for a few days now.  rain here in ostwestfalen seems to be able to penetrate the skin through any rain gear I own, creating a dull mind and a lackluster spirit.  breathing helps dissipate the soggy feeling, coffee helps dissipate the dullness of mind.

I don’t often stay at home for an entire day, but when I do, it reminds me that right minded writing is not only fun, but can be useful, so here I am, back to say that I’m still living on Steinstrasse, and life, despite the rain, is good.  The rain is good, even though it’s Ostwestfaelisch rain. 

I’ve been working on a couple of stories, and, of course, the Never-Ending story of the Yellow-House.  The novel is too expansive to ever really be a novel, which has given me the opportunity to turn it into short stories and a personal cosmology.  I’m having fun and learning, to me, the point of existence.  Next time around, said the monk, I’d like to be what I am, who doesn’t matter.

Wishing you a good day from Steinstrasse, peace, love, and contentment.

A First Encounter

For the past ten years, I've been drifting around Europe.  I've visited the capitols of many countries, stood on the platforms of the busiest train stations, walked around in crowds, and I've never been mugged or pick-pocketed until this week.


I'm a sucker for children's charities, so when a young lady approached me with a clip board and asked for a contribution, even though she didn't (so she said) speak a word of German, it looked legitimate, so I offered five euros, paying with a ten.  As she was making change, her friend approached, and in the hubbub, I watched as they counted out five one euro coins into my hand. They thanked me, I smiled, and walked away happy. 


I walked around for awhile, went home to eat, and went back out a few hours later.  It wasn't until I went to pay for some pipe filters that I noticed my wallet (which had previously held somewhere between 100 and 200 euros) was empty.  Zapped by good intentions, I walked across the square, retrieved some more money, went back to the tobacco shop, paid for my stuff, then sought out the police and reported my inattentiveness!  The policeman and I had a good laugh over the magic trick and he made some notes, told me never to give money to strange people and that was that. 


Pick-pockets and con-artists in Europe are really slick.  Most of them have been trained since birth in slight of hand and misdirection and the really good ones don't get caught.  Eyes open, but don't turn your back on being kind.  Life is good.  Share the goodness.

springing into inaction

 In the beginning, I thought I was a writer. A little later, I accepted myself as a poet. So did a lot of other people.

 Then came the world.

 It took over twenty years of silence before I gave myself a another chance. And So, I write. I write of mystics, Zen Masters , Physicists, Photographers, Painters, Punters, and Politicians. I write, I think about Writing, and sometimes, I let myself be read.

 I don't like loose ends.