Plague Journal, New Year’s Day
I did not remain awake til midnight for the departure of the old year to celebrate the new. Just before turning in I glimpsed television images of the Times Square “celebration” in New York. The scene was outlandish, devoid of crowds, just the TV personalities outfitted as if attending a monster’s ball. The rhetoric was bizarre too, conjuring up a future wildly disconnected from the present.
Earlier I used my internet search hoping to find a nearby Buddhist Temple. I have a memory of many years ago; standing among thousands of others at the stroke of midnight before the Meiji shrine to pray for good luck in the year to come. A similar experience would be welcome again, but alas, there was no Buddhist temple nearby. Under the present circumstances, prayer seems to make sense as preparation for what the future holds. The pandemic continues unabated, the nation losing 350,000 dead to the virus.
To achieve a brief respite from the house, yesterday I traveled a few minutes to Geneva. It is worth the drive for a cup of Starbucks coffee, especially when I can exchange greetings with the Baristas. I was delayed at the tracks by the commuter station due to a passing freight train. In my hypnotic state lulled by the sound and fury of the long train I realized that the passing rail cars also served as a canvas for graffiti artists. Reaching for my camera I managed to capture these photos.
Is not time like a passing fast freight train? It’s easy, natural to be lulled into passivity by the roar, the cadence of the steel wheels passing over the crossing — and yet one can awaken to the presence of art, meaning which another person, one you do not know, has installed on the siding of a passing freight container. There is time enough to enjoy,…. And if circumstance allows to prepare our own colors and tools to create our own one-of-a-kind statement of purpose and meaning.
CODA
These signs were placed on the lawn of the Geneva Lutheran Church. Have love, peace, hope, etc. been cancelled? We shall see. Such aspirations demand care, labor and patience. Never are such fragile conditions conjured up, — out of nothing.
Ex nihilo, nihil fit.
Learn to love, or die.
One thought on “Plague Journal, New Year’s Day”
Jerry; The Theravada Buddhist Temple I attended for years is on (unless my memory fails me-not out of the realm of possibility in this condition of isolation) is on Bartlett Rd., east of rt59. It is a regular looking, excepting the Buddhist flag flying outdoors, ‘Tri-Level’. It is a temple; monks study and reside there and they are there for the Spiritual needs of the area’s large Sri Lankan community. It is very Temple like inside.
A funny story submitted for everyone’s amusement:
I had become the Temple’s de facto ‘handyman’, because I am handy, Man!
I had just finished repositioning a door lock (and BTW, it felt like a real Zen experience because everything I did was with such care that I seldom exhibit with carpentry – I’ve worked as a precision machinist and ‘wood’ confuses me). After I had finished, I went into the kitchen to share a cup of tea with my Abbott, and by then, dear friend, the Venerable Bhante Sila. He is only slightly younger than I and has a great sense of humor.
It occurred to me to ask of him; “This is a Temple, right”? And he responded, of course; ” Yes”. I then inquired; “Does that mean I get double ‘merit’ for my effort”? We had a grand laugh together. He left for Madison, WI. one year to write, teach and study – one never stops this – and the Abbott who replaced him was much younger and when we ‘Sat’ (meditated), he could sit for seemingly forever. After about twenty minutes or so, my old bones reject any further possible enlightenment, so I moved on.
I wouldn’t mind returning. A meditation technique often taught by Buddhist teachers to those complaining of the various minor pains that develop after sitting still in one position for a long period of time is to meditate on the pain; What is it? Who is experiencing it? (Along those lines). It does work, but alas, that I have a body that has suffered a great deal of broken bones, back, etc., from M/C riding and racing for so many years.
I would give it a try again, though. We gather, facing our teacher and we recite a few prayers (they are very ‘song’ like prayers). We may then read, discuss arisen questions, and then we meditate. More prayers follow.
Blessings