Zen Master's Wisdom - Part 1

So what you got to do is open that dusty which is at the bottom of your heart.
The file of all the good things you want to do in life . . .

The file of all the good things you wanted to do in life put away because you want to do it later, when you're old, and retired and useless. Get something out of that and do it now. It might not make you rich but it will make you happy. Look at it this way, if you get a job only because it pays well you end up spending the money to buy yourself prepaid happiness which lasts not very long. 

So if you do what you really care for and makes you happy, you are sorted for life!

You will always have money to spare!

-  
Vivek

Moon River

Sitting at the window sill,

Counting days spent without you until . . .

Today I watch the moon gazing down upon me,

wondering why I look so blue . . .

He shines his shimmer
hoping I'd gleam at him a little
Not an ounce of mercy I spare

He then splashes at me,
some water from his river

Yet the blues wont go away

I sit gazing at him
only looking at something else,

off sunny times,

It's the day we slept under the moon

clasped in love-filled embrac

The moon tonight
I've lost its sight

©Anugraha Madhavan

for you are not here . . .

to hug me, caress me, gently kiss me

While I feel your warmth, breath and skipping of your heart beat

It's easy to say that I am longing for you

while each second is a penance

You want me to bask in the glory of the moonlight

All alone . . .

Which I do . . .

But I only feel it's chilly windy blue

I know there will come one day
You and I will walk again

down the river side

and you'll embrace my love again

As we walk by the Moon River.

Dark Waters

The science told, ‘We have blood running within,’

But I only feel dark mud flow within.

A mortal existence with nothing of my own,

The skin, the Hide, the tears, the smiles . . . adapted.

Who knows what’s within?

Deceit, self-deceit, ugly light

Or something brightly Utopian

The answers to mortal existence

The universe seemed larger at first,

But the mortal specie constrained its universe

To mere dust and shimmer,

Of boredom from humanity and responsibility.

Where am I?

Dark waters run within, and I, adamant to call it blood

The warmth has frozen, cold finally set in.

Love and affection replaced by justification.

Mockery, we make of ourselves

By aping the shimmer

Falsehood, we live with

By breathing the dust

I thrive on blaming

I thrive on revenge

I thrive on sadism

I await the pinch, given by nails,

Those developed by veins

Carrying ‘blood’

Dark waters run within,

Stale and sewage

Running through narrow pathways

The valves rusted, Brain busted

I love this stench

Progressing with self-sympathy

Generating more dark waters . . .

As long as you are awake . . .

Separated by a million galaxies,
spaces between us are broken down by a Wonderwall.
You're my Wonderwall.

Here I am, 
in a lonesome world, 
filled up with dimensions,
           You keep hopping around,
while I sit here and admire your every move
What is it that you're looking for?

Oh, dreamer! You Wanderer! You Vagabond!
Can't you get some sleep?

My head hurts and heart aches.

You embark on a new journey, each day, each night.
                           What is it that you're looking for?

I am here waiting with my Cuppa . . .
At the restaurant at the end of the Universe

They screen on a Plasma, 
            Your theatrics of dance and your drama
                                              Your adventures

Oh, dreamer! You Wanderer! You Vagabond!
Can't you get some sleep?

Suck it up, Jim!

It's all right to lose your path, Jim. You are required to act crazy, lose your virtues, morale and all of that jazz. You must get lost in the cloud. You must love and be loved. Hurt and get hurt. You must fall in love deep and get hurt. You must succeed at doing something. You must taste absolute failure. You must chase a dream. You must lose sleep over it. You must let at least one of your dreams crash.

You must live alone, feel lonely. You must begin to like your own company. You must laugh hard. You must cry harder. Hug someone. Kiss somebody. Gaze at the moon, stars and auroras. Enjoy the cool summer breeze. Sleep under a moonlit sky with a lover. Make love. Cherish it. Capture a picture of it. Hang it in the wall of fame of your memory.

Learn acceptance. Accept rejections. Learn to hold on to something. Adapt. Prepare yourself to move on. Smoke some weed or hash. Gulp down a peg beautiful of that Irish whiskey. Travel across the globe. Earn well. Spend well. It is okay to be a miser sometimes. Splurge like a pauper. Try being unemployed for sometime. Meditate. Learn to focus on what's in hand. Let yourself get lost in your thoughts sometimes. Learn to be happy. Be happy when you're sad.

You must learn to hope. It helps to hope. Hope that your ducks will fall in a row. Hope that you will get what you want. Hope that you will rank a merit. Hope that she loves you. Hope that your prayers will be answered. Hoping works on most occasions. If it doesn't at first. You could always hope to get a second chance. You mostly get a second chance or shot at everything. Learn to grab on to chance encounters and opportunities. Hope that life will be all right.   

Make new friends. Take up a crash-course in a new city. Find a roommate. Roommates are family at a home away from home. Remember your family. Feel homesick. Call up your mother and tell her how much you love her. Tell you father he's your mentor. Sometimes you may have to witness a dear one die. Mourn as much as you like. Come out of it as soon as you can. Share your sorrows. Don't dwell on it.

Explore this new city. Observe and understand this new family you've adapted to. Your roommates could teach you a lot. Share expenses. Happiness. Sorrows. Roommates can teach you a lot. 

Jim, look up on a hobby class. Go pursue it for a couple of months. Make a schedule. Follow it. Live it. Find a life. Life has always been there. Been quite easy. Just accept it and live it. Love this new hobby of yours. Flaunt it. Sleep with it. Dream about it. Talk about it. 

Get a piercing or two. At least talk about it. Your body is indeed a wonderland. Explore it. Accept it. Tell it that you care about it. Talk to yourself once in a while. You misses you. Socialise with yourself. Fall in love with yourself. Let yourself sulk about the past. Talk yourself out of it as well. 

Read new books. Read a Harper Lee or a Howard Jacob. Audrey Niffenegger has a refreshing style of writing. You could read Jerome K Jerome and sigh at the mention of Montmorency. If you're going through existential crisis read something by Camus or Kierkegaard. Go read Dostoevsky. Watch The Woman With Five Elephants. Then get on to reading Dostoevsky. Read Poe. Read Wodehouse. Read Freud. Read A.Huxley. Read Kerouac. Read Gerald Durrell. Read Kafka. Read Neruda. Read Gibran.  

Watch new television shows. The good ones. The ones with a lot of gore. The ones with slapstick humour. The ones with teenage romance. The ones with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Watch a Monty Python sketch or Fry and Laurie sketch. They are brilliant. All of them are mostly good.

Become insomniac. Learn to value sleep. Sleep well. Eat well. Laugh well. Dance well. Sing to yourself. Sing to the lord. Sing yourself into meditation. Open your eyes to a whole new Being. A whole new Being in a whole new world.

Breathe.

Because, Jim, somewhere you learn to break-free from the chains of fear. Somewhere, you just end up finding out who you truly are.