using the arrow buttons.
by clicking on the page.
the page around when zoomed in by dragging it.
the zoom using the slider when zoomed-in.
by clicking on the zoomed-in page.
by entering text in the search field, and select "This Issue" or "All Issues"
by clicking on thumbnails to select pages, and then press the print button.
displays sections with thumbnails and descriptions.
displays a slider of thumbnails. Click on a page to jump.
allows you to browse the full archive.
about your subscription?
Lions Roar : March 2010
53 SHAMBHALA SUN MARCH 2010 eating is our sole essential consumption and cooking is our one common charity, so you’d think its purpose would be obvious. yet with a critical eye to the value of time and what we judge to be our higher talents, meal preparation may seldom seem worth it. Cooking for two? Not worth it. Filling the fridge? Not worth it. sitting to dine? Not worth it. Cleaning up after? Not worth it. nothing is worth the measure we give it, because worth doesn’t really exist. It is a figment of our judging minds, an imaginary yardstick to measure the imaginary value of imaginary distinctions, and one more way we withhold our- selves from the whole enchilada of life that lies before us. If nothing is worth it, why cook? Why shop and chop, boil and toil and clean up after? To engage yourself in the marvel of your own being. To see the priceless in the worthless. To find complete fulfillment in being unfilled. and to eat something other than your own inflated self- importance. That’s what we empty when we empty the bowl, and a busy kitchen gives us the chance to empty ourselves many times a day. A monk asked Joshu, “What is the meaning of Bodhidharma’s coming to China?” Joshu said, “The oak tree in the garden.” enough about laundry and dishes, you might be think- ing, what about the deep spiritual questions? Why do the great mystics strive so diligently for enlightenment if it has no more depth than what’s found in ordinary housework? see beyond your house, Joshu answers, beyond the delusion of a separate self trapped by the false perception of what is inside and what is outside. This is true mindful- ness: not the narrow boundaries of our conceptual abode, but the phenomenal world of the awakened mind. Joshu tells us to open our eyes and awaken in our own backyard. Once again, sekida prunes the intellectual interpretation that can obscure our clear sight. “There were many giant oaks in the garden of Joshu’s temple. We can well imagine that Joshu himself was personally familiar with every tree, stone, flower, weed, and clump of moss—as intimately ac- quainted as if they were his own relatives.” Where is the place you know as well as your own family? Indeed, that is as proximate as yourself? It is the place where you are at ease with a full load, fulfilled by an empty sink, telling time by the leaves and weeds: making yourself mind- fully at home in the home you never leave. ♦ 10 Tips for a Mindful Home Wake with the sun There is no purer light than what we see when we open our eyes first thing in the morning. Sit Mindfulness without meditation is just a word. Make your bed The state of your bed is the state of your head. enfold your day in dignity. Empty the hampers do the laundry without resentment or commentary and have an intimate encounter with the very fabric of life. Wash your bowl rinse away self-importance and clean up your own mess. If you leave it undone, it will get sticky. Set a timer If you’re distracted by the weight of what’s undone, set a kitchen timer and, like a monk in a monastery, devote yourself wholeheartedly to the task at hand until the bell rings. Rake the leaves rake, weed, or sweep. you’ll never finish for good, but you’ll learn the point of pointlessness. Eat when hungry align your inexhaustible desires with the one true appetite. Let the darkness come set a curfew on the internet and Tv and discover the natural balance between daylight and darkness, work and rest. Sleep when tired nothing more to it. —Karen MaeZen MILLer