‘A great deal of ecological thought now asks us to take more note of the relationships of interdependency that embed and sustain us, including many too large or small for unaided vision. The interpenetration of these systems raises questions about the boundaries of our selfhood. It is difficult now to think simply in terms of inside and outside, or self and not-self.’ (from the Guardian)
My Notes folders are so voluminous, that when I start to delve into them, as I often do when preparing posts for when I am away, I come across some serendipitous words. These are from a review of Entangled Life, by Merlin Sheldrake, that definitely caught my eye a few years ago. Recently, as we browsed in a bookstore, we chose this book as one to take on our travels – and hopefully we will have had some chances to read it by now.
We’re back in London now for the last few days of the trip, with a few social calls, some sightseeing and shopping planned before we get on the plane, and some more variable weather to do that in.
The rain greeted us last week as we headed north, and made more appearances than expected on our hike the next day: we set off for Hardcastle Crags, where sunny spells gave way to showers and even a bit of hail bouncing off the ground. At the top of the hill, the trail was totally soaked in places, and we did not pack the right kind of shoes for that; the initial plan had been to cross the river and go up to Heptonstall, but we turned around instead.
On the way up the hill.
It was bright – and close to freezing – the next morning for the sitting, but nice and warm for the dozen people sitting. Unusually, I gave a talk on the Saturday as well as the one on Friday night (nominally dividing the Six Perfections into two halves), and did a couple of practice discussions as well.
Saturday’s group.
More usually, we went up to the Hare and Hounds for pie and a pint afterwards, and walked down the hill as the sun set.
On the Sunday we headed over to York; the sitting had been cancelled, due to a family situation, so we had a free afternoon to explore the city. It was warm and sunny, the only shame was that the Minster was not open for visits.
On Monday we had another combination train day, from York to London, and London to Plymouth. Thankfully both trains were punctual – it was nice to be able to relax and eat at the stations before being whisked to our destination- and I was able to get to the rental car office before they closed for the short drive to Dartmoor.
After spending a night at the Two Bridges Hotel last year, I knew I wanted to go back to have more time to walk to Wistman’s Wood; we took all morning over the hike and relaxed all afternoon. I was thinking about how I rode past that spot half a lifetime ago.
The Dart Valley.Wistman’s Wood.
On Wednesday, we got back in the car and took some scenic – and very narrow roads – to some places that were meaningful to me: Brentor, Minions for the Hurlers stone circle, and past my dad’s house, which the new owners seem to have done a little more work on. And on to Fowey, a place we visited often when I was younger.
St. Michael Brentor.Sheep and lamb at Minions.
We had splashed out on the nice hotel, and it was lovely to revisit the well-known corners. Obviously most of the businesses had changed hands, but the ferry to Bodinnick, and the walk to the Q memorial at the end of the afternoon in warm sun, felt reassuringly familiar.
Quiet streets in Fowey.The view of the estuary from the Hall Walk.
On Thursday we spent the drizzly morning in the church (where my great-great-grandfather is buried) and the shops. We took pasties and a saffron bun off for the afternoon walk along the cliffs to Polridmouth, the beautiful trail I used to love running. The tide was as low as I have ever seen it, exposing tidepools and more dramatic rocks. I found plenty of good skimming stones on the beach.
Along the cliffs.
We went back inland, unfortunately through another boggy patch which soaked our shoes; with the miles and all the elevation, we were pretty wiped out at the end of it, but enjoyed another waterside meal.
On the way back to Plymouth, we were able to catch up with my step-sister and her partner before dropping off the car and jumping on the train – I had only just budgeted enough time for that, but once on the train, we got to relax again, though I have managed to tweak my lower back a couple of times this week, so relaxing is relative right now.
‘Zazen is not a method. If you think so, then zazen becomes a toy. If you are going to use zazen as a toy, it’s not necessary to do zazen; there are lots of other toys that are better. Those who do not have faith will not accept zazen, however much they are taught. If you don’t trust this silence and the vastness of existence, if you do not soak yourself in this realm, how can you trust yourself? How can you trust others? How can you deal with human life? No matter how long you try to study the sutras or Zen, you will never understand. Even though you say, ‘I understand’, that understanding is not understanding.’ (Returning to Silence)
‘The period of sitting is not your own sitting. Physically you feel that it is your sitting that you do. The inner view of one’s sitting, which is utterly an external view too, includes your personal existence. It includes everything, from which your mind is continuously working. The arising memories of whatever you’ve experienced are always there; no matter whether you deny them or accept them, they are there.’ (from the newsletter of Jikoji Zen Retreat Center)
‘If you want to read sutras, you should follow the scriptural teachings recommended by Caoxi [the sixth ancestor Huineng], such as the Lotus, the Mahaparinirvana, and the Prajna Paramita Sutras. What is the use of sutras not recommended by Caoxi? Why are they useless? Ancient people opened the sutras and commentaries simply for the sake of awakening. Modern people open the sutras and commentaries merely for the sake of fame and profit. Buddhas expound the sutras in order to enable all living beings to attain awakening. When modern people open the buddhas’ sutras only for the sake of fame and profit, how greatly it opposes the intention of the buddhas.’ (Extensive Record, 383)
‘If the human brain were so simple that we could understand it, we would be so simple that we couldn’t.’
I don’t have the attibution for this quote from an IBM engineer, which may be apocryphal, but does say something about our ongoing quest for knowledge and meaning. It was in my notes along with many other quotes about neuroscience, the kind of thing that I thought I might be able to spin up into a “think piece,” but rarely get around to.
We’re a little more than half way through the trip, and this weekend we are up at Hebden Bridge for the usual talk and sit, greeted by rain and a warm welcome from Rebecca.
As always, looking back, it’s amazing what we have already done: less than a week after seeing an eclipse, we were standing amid the stones at Stonehenge – thanks to my sister who had organised VIP tickets for us after I had mentioned that it was on Ruth’s bucket list of places to go in England.
It was another incredible experience; that afternoon, at Derrick’s recommendation, we had gone to the ruins of Old Sarum, so we were already steeped in history, and the exhibition space at the visitor centre gave a lot of context, but getting to stand in and around the stones was something else altogether.
The low sun made for some dramatic shots.
We had four days in the country with my sister, and visited my mother in the nearby nursing home each day. Her capacity is diminished from my visit a year ago, but we got to chat, and reminisce about years gone by.
After that it was down to my friends on the south coast, for much chatting and eating. I had hoped to get a good walk in; Tuesday was forecast for showers, so we just walked up and around Brighton; on Wednesday we went over to the cliffs at Beachy Head. When we stopped at a village for a pub lunch, I reckoned that it was the same place that a group of us from the BBC had eaten at when we came to walk the cliffs on a winter afternoon thirty years ago.
We also had a good long walk to dinner at a highly rated Indian restaurant, so we were very tired at the end of the day, and glad of a day of sitting on trains afterwards, even as the weather changed from sunny and bright to rainy and chilly as we made our way north.
Shundo David Haye 