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Thursday, February 20, 2003

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  • Jerry Katz
    http://www.krampf.com/galleryfolder/g_dino01_images/g_dino01_images4/Walking.jpg ... Issue #1356 - Thursday, February 20, 2003 - Editor: Jerry Theme: Walking
    Message 1 of 1 , Feb 21, 2003

      Issue #1356 - Thursday, February 20, 2003 - Editor: Jerry
      Theme: Walking

      Vicki Woodyard
      And then the buddha said...yadda, yadda, yadda

      The buddha is a shadowy figure at best to me.
      Try as I might, I can never remember what it
      was that he said exactly. Frankly, I just
      remember how he looks. Fat little guy with bare
      feet and his hands thrown upwards into the air.
      Quite possibly he was an early weatherman...who
      Of course, sometimes he is seated in a
      reflective posture. He is more than likely
      counting his fat rolls....love handles,
      mayonnaise...call it what you will. Let's be
      frank...the buddha was obese. If he had to have
      his body fat ration calculated, it would not
      have been a pretty picture.
      Didn't he say that all of life is suffering?
      know that I have been suffering ever since I
      sat down at the computer to write this piece.
      Buddha is a buddy of mine. I met him at the
      Waffle House and he bought me a cup of joe and
      sat with me in buddha posture as he buttered
      his waffle. He seemed unattached to the outcome
      of eating all of those waffles.
      "Buddha, buddy," I asked him, "aren't you
      worried about your cholesterol count? Are you
      on Zochor or Lipitor yet?" He regarded me
      quizzically and said nothing. He chewed and
      swallowed each morsel daintily. His aura was
      redolent of bacon grease.
      As he got up to leave, I cautioned him that he
      shouldn't travel alone, as people might try to
      kill him if they met him on the road. "Not to
      worry," said the round little man, "if my
      disciples don't kill me, the waffles will."
      "Then why don't you quit eating waffles and for
      heaven's sake, stop being a buddha. Just be
      ordinary. Then no one would try to kill you."
      "You don't understand," he said wearily. "I am
      ordinary. That is what makes me the buddha.
      It's you disciples who are trying to make me
      extraordinary. If you knew how ordinary I was,
      you would let me eat my waffles in peace. You
      would let me go and come to your senses."
      I opened the door of the Waffle House and let
      him precede me into the cold, dark night. His
      secret is safe with me.

      Vicki Woodyard
      Walking to work, I hear a child yelping in the next block. It is odd,
      the way the sound bounces from building to building, each echo of the
      same sound entering my ear at different times. The echoes, taken
      together, remind me of yelping dogs. A flock of pigeons erupts from
      the park up ahead - did they hear the dogs, too? All of this timed to
      the metronomic sound of my footfalls.

      Then, I am here, at the park, crossing the street, eyes on the
      pigeons above me, slightly dazzled by the sun skirting the tops of
      the buildings across the street, when I hear the dull thud. I know
      that sound already, and though I am shocked when I look back to the
      pavement to see what has happened, I am not surprised. One pigeon
      lying with limbs in disarray, a single pigeon leg extended to the sky
      from a bloodied round body.

      I think the sound of the thud was too large for the impact of such a
      small body on a car. I watch a second pigeon, mere pigeon steps away
      fromt the first, skulk away. I see the car, already a grey fuzz in my
      peripheral vision, drive on. I marvel at the roundness of the pigeon
      body and the geometry of the leg, pink pigeon toes extended,
      flaglike. I hope to not see it move, but I watch and look for
      movement, anyway. I feel irrational anger. For a moment I believe it
      could have been avoided; this is not supported by anything I have
      seen and probably not by anything I have not seen.

      Once, I piloted a small motorboat among the San Juan Islands. The
      islands moved relative to each other relative to my boat. This
      parallaxic dance was experienced as a sort of freedom. Uncannily, it
      was experienced as the islands moving as well as the boat, sky and
      sea moving as well. Each definable form moving in its own pattern
      relative to the rest.

      The timing of my walk to work, a yelping child become dog pack,
      pigeons in flight against sheer building faces, a car and pavement,
      my body in space, footfalls and field of vision... all boats and
      islands, sea and sky. The buddha is a part of that, too.

      If you kill a buddha, does it matter? There is always another to fill
      his place in the parallaxic dance.

      Whatever the answer, I'll probably still cry for his death on my walk
      to work.

      from Daily Dharma

      "Every day, priests minutely
      examine the Dharma and
      endlessly chant complicated
      sutras. Before doing that,
      though, they should learn
      how to read the love letters
      sent by the wind and rain,
      the snow and moon."


      Where to live a Buddhist environment

      -- Bon Giovanni

      My friend was very open and brave in his description of his state and desire: he lives at home, has no job, and wants to live in a Buddhist environment near Madison. He tells that he would like to swap his labour for lodging, as needed.

      As a wondrous stroke of luck, I know a place that may serve him well. It requires a great deal of work, self-sacrifice, attention, and study but the results are worth that. The people in charge are living Buddhas, and if one studies them carefully, and does one's work well, enligtenment is guaranteed.

      The place is exactly where he is now: in his folks' home, serving his parents, paying them with labour attention and affection.


      from Google Answers

      What does the concept "Walking the red road" mean?

      "Walking the red road" is basically a mental
      and spiritual concept. It relates to a
      spiritual journey, in the good, right, way.
      "Red", as in the colour of God. However,
      choosing the red way to walk in implies also a
      behavioural change.

      This behavioural change is the understanding of
      the place of nature in our lives, and the need
      to be in harmony with the nature. Therefore,
      the concept also refers to achieving "mother
      earth" spirituality, going in the nature way.

      For example, a user named Jason writes in
      alt.freemasonary, that "The Lakota Sioux
      principle of "Walking the good north-south red
      road", walking the holy way of life (...). The
      Lakota see the most fundamental step to walking
      the red road is giving yourself over to Great
      Spirit." (Source: Jason, "Essay on ancient
      Freemasonry, critiques welcome!"

      Some reservations must be expressed, or so it
      seems. This expression and concept is referred
      to "Indians", and might stem, at least
      partially, from the view of the Indians as a
      homogeneous mass, not as different groups with
      different traditions. Therefore, the concept
      might not be spread as "non-Indians" seem to
      think. Native American religious traditions
      have gone, since the 1960s, in a process of
      reshape according to some expectations of
      believers of New Religious Movements, who
      consisted mostly of white, suburban, middle
      classed, followers. That means, identification
      of "wholeness" in indigenous religions (in
      contrast to Judeo-Christian institutionalised
      ones) and a sort of unification of different
      traditions (of different groups) along the way,
      as they are all "indigenous" (You could find
      more about this interesting realm of the
      Religious Studies and the Sociology of Religion
      in the University of Virginia site

      Another Jason (presumably not the former one)
      writes about it in the alt.native discussion
      group: "Every since Dances With Wolves the new
      age part of society came crawling out of
      (nowhere)... most of them were rejects from the
      60s that couldn't find their place in the
      nineties... I remember two years after Dances
      you I all these people say "I've walked the red
      road for two years." Today I'm hearing a lot of
      the same people saying "I was there at wounded
      knee in 1973 walking the red road." It just
      bothers me to see people trying to be something
      that (they're) not." (Source: Jason, "Re: Wierd
      White Indians " alt.native,
      http://makeashorterlink.com/?K16C12913 ).

      Tony Marino treats it all with a pinch of salt:
      "BONUS! For those who order early, you will
      receive a phrase book that includes the proper
      way to say, "Ayyyy!" with the appropriate head
      movements and some slang from the Nation of
      your choice. The book also includes fail-safe
      vague references to the "rez" and some
      handy-dandy pan-Indian sayings such as,
      "walking the red road," "circle of life,"
      "seven generations" and "all my relations" -at
      no extra cost!" (Source: Toni Marino, "Re: Way
      tooo funny, (Sorry here's the msg)" alt.native
      http://makeashorterlink.com/?D5AC55913). The
      rest of the post, regarding Indian wannabes, is
      also very funny.

      Further Reading

      "RECOVERY MEDICINE WHEEL" in _Wolves of the
      Aspen_, by Milton Lewis, University of

      Rainbow Tribe, Ed (Eagle Man) McGaa _Ordinary
      People Journeying on the Red Road_

      by Ben Marra. Harry N. Abrams, Inc., 100 Fifth
      Ave., N.Y., NY 10011, (800) 345-1359, FAX:
      (212) 645-8437.



      I hope that answered your question. I have
      searched Google for "walking the red way", and
      also used my knowledge in the Sociology of
      Religion. If you need any clarifications on
      this answer, please let me know. I'd be pleased
      to clarify the answer before you rate it.


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