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Being Flower
On Monday night during meditation we sat together as a community of flowers. Sun flower, daisy, rose, violet, marigold, milkweed, celosia, echinacea, blue vervain, poppy, queen anne’s lace, crocosmia, zinnia.
We were studying the koan Case 19 from the Hidden Lamp, Flowers in the Buddha Hall.
The nuns of Tokeiji were famous for their beautiful elaborate flower decorations on Buddha’s Birthday. Zen Teacher Yodo, the abbess wrote a verse for the occasion:
Decorate the heart of the beholder,
for the Buddha of the flower hall
in nowhere else.
Her attendants also wrote verse. Ika wrote:
Throw away into the street the years of the past.
What is born now on the flower dais—
let it raise its newborn cry.
Why sit as a flower? It might seem foolish or arrogant.
Maybe it is.
But its part of the invitation of the koans. To be inhabited by them. To practice seeing through the face of a sunflower—breathing in light—deeply connected to earth and sky. Opening petal by petal into this troubled and mysterious world.
Some call the wide-eyed flower jasmine.
Some call the wide-eyed flower thorn.
The wide-eyed flower doesn’t care what you call it.
I bow to such freedom. —Rumi
We’ve spent our lives practicing our human conditioning. Telling ourselves things that aren’t true about our worth, our lacks. Reinforcing a sense of separation, loneliness, fear.
What happens when you take-up the practice of being a flower?
How does a flower respond to you human thoughts and worries?
What does a flower think of your so called problems?
We find flowers throughout the buddhist teachings and koans. The Buddha gave a whole sermon—holding up a flower. There are recorded stories of practitioners having awakening experiences upon seeing a flower.
flowers are silent
silence is silent
the mind is a silent flower
the silent flower of the world open—Ikkyu
Remembering
In this koan the nuns of Tokeiji are re-enacting the story of the Buddha’s birth where flowers rained from the heavens. The story is ancient and the ceremony seems to have roots prior to buddhism. We build a flower bower in the shape of a white elephant that came to Maya in a dream. We decorate the bower in the fresh flowers of spring, and bathe the awakened child who stands on Great Mother Earth, pointing to the sky with one hand and the ground with the other.
There is something child-like and innocent about creating a flower dais and bathing the baby buddha in sweet tea. I don’t know the origins of the ritual, but it was something that we practiced when I lived at the monastery, and is part of the Japanese Zen tradition.
When we prepare for and participate in the ceremony, we are practicing a kind of remembering.
Remembering our own child-like innocence.
Remembering how malleable and playful the heart-mind of a child is.
Remembering a time in our life where our imagination was ripe. And we really were flowers. Or could become one at anytime. A time when hours could go by and we were perfectly content to sit and watch the daisies bob in the wind. Where we made crowns and wands and palaces out of flowers. A time when we could consult flowers for advice, and laugh with them in yellows, oranges, rubies and pinks.
This remembering stretches back before childhood, before we were born.
We are remembering who we are—before thought, before we got overly identified with this body. We are remembering our unborn buddha mind—our awakened nature.
Yodo’s poem is a reminder that the baby buddha in the ceremony—is us. Our buddha nature, our awakened nature is only right here.
Sometimes appearing as a flower, a face, anxiety, fear, aloneness, beauty, love.
All appearances are inseparable from the spacious embrace of our buddha nature.
Yet, we forget. So we practice remembering.
The baby buddha ceremony is a practice of remembering. Seeing flowers can be a practice of remembering. Zazen, chanting, bowing, the precepts, IFS, yoga, dancing all can be practices of remembering.
I recently was invited to give a teaching to the Pause Meditation Community on the theme of remembrance. As I was contemplating the theme, I rediscovered Joy Harjo’s poem Remember. And remembered the importance of poetry in our practice of remembering.
What is important to remember?
What do you want to remind yourself?
How do you remember?
Here’s a poem I wrote to help me Remember to Remember
Remember breath
How it breathes you, even as you sleep
And your mind drifts here and there
Even when you feel most alone
Its gentle rhythm soothes you
And gives you your life
Let yourself feel this ocean inside you
Rising and falling
Let yourself find your way back to yourself
Through the sensations of breath
Remember and you are aware
Your senses open to a world of wonder
Hear, see, feel, taste, smell
This is your wild and precious life
All is connected
You are part of this one life
Remember that all is changing
Mysteriously experience unfolds
These thoughts are just passing through
Nothing is fixed
Nothing is final
How you feel now will change
Is already changing
Feel the river of your life
Drink from it
Remember silence
Let yourself hear below
The murmur or yelling of thought
Before the music or the noise
Silence
Though it seems we are always
Trying to cover it over
Or fill it up
Silence remains
Feel your own inner silence
Befriend it
Listen to its wisdom
Let it show you something about who
You really are
Remember the goodness that you are
Feel the sincerity in your heart
Can you let yourself feel
The kindnesses that shape you
Open to joy
For no reason
Its here, even in the heartbreak
Even in the pain
Even when it feels farthest away
Remember this is your life
Its a good life
Its worth living
Feel its preciousness
Remember
For a deeper dive into this koan listen to the dharma talk where we explore more deeply some of the symbolism in the Buddha’s birth story, as well as Amala Roshi’s commentary to the koan found in the Hidden Lamp. Join Patrick Kennyo Dunn this coming Monday for Case 20: Shonin’s Shadeless Tree.
I’m Amy Kisei. I am a Zen Buddhist Teacher, Spiritual Counselor, Astrologer and Artist. I offer 1:1 Spiritual Counseling sessions using IFS and Hakomi (somatic mindfulness). I also offer astrology readings. Check out my website to learn more. I currently live in Columbus, OH and am a supporting teacher for the Mud Lotus Sangha.
Weekly Online Meditation Event
Monday Night Dharma — 6P PT / 9P ET Join weekly for drop-in meditation and dharma talk. This is where the Summer Read is happening if you want to join the discussion and practice live. Schedule here.
Feel free to join anytime. Event lasts about 1.5 hours. ZOOM LINK
In-Person in Columbus, Ohio through Mud Lotus Sangha
Weekly Meditations on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday
Retreats, Meditation instruction and other events can be found on our website.
Being Flower
On Monday night during meditation we sat together as a community of flowers. Sun flower, daisy, rose, violet, marigold, milkweed, celosia, echinacea, blue vervain, poppy, queen anne’s lace, crocosmia, zinnia.
We were studying the koan Case 19 from the Hidden Lamp, Flowers in the Buddha Hall.
The nuns of Tokeiji were famous for their beautiful elaborate flower decorations on Buddha’s Birthday. Zen Teacher Yodo, the abbess wrote a verse for the occasion:
Decorate the heart of the beholder,
for the Buddha of the flower hall
in nowhere else.
Her attendants also wrote verse. Ika wrote:
Throw away into the street the years of the past.
What is born now on the flower dais—
let it raise its newborn cry.
Why sit as a flower? It might seem foolish or arrogant.
Maybe it is.
But its part of the invitation of the koans. To be inhabited by them. To practice seeing through the face of a sunflower—breathing in light—deeply connected to earth and sky. Opening petal by petal into this troubled and mysterious world.
Some call the wide-eyed flower jasmine.
Some call the wide-eyed flower thorn.
The wide-eyed flower doesn’t care what you call it.
I bow to such freedom. —Rumi
We’ve spent our lives practicing our human conditioning. Telling ourselves things that aren’t true about our worth, our lacks. Reinforcing a sense of separation, loneliness, fear.
What happens when you take-up the practice of being a flower?
How does a flower respond to you human thoughts and worries?
What does a flower think of your so called problems?
We find flowers throughout the buddhist teachings and koans. The Buddha gave a whole sermon—holding up a flower. There are recorded stories of practitioners having awakening experiences upon seeing a flower.
flowers are silent
silence is silent
the mind is a silent flower
the silent flower of the world open—Ikkyu
Remembering
In this koan the nuns of Tokeiji are re-enacting the story of the Buddha’s birth where flowers rained from the heavens. The story is ancient and the ceremony seems to have roots prior to buddhism. We build a flower bower in the shape of a white elephant that came to Maya in a dream. We decorate the bower in the fresh flowers of spring, and bathe the awakened child who stands on Great Mother Earth, pointing to the sky with one hand and the ground with the other.
There is something child-like and innocent about creating a flower dais and bathing the baby buddha in sweet tea. I don’t know the origins of the ritual, but it was something that we practiced when I lived at the monastery, and is part of the Japanese Zen tradition.
When we prepare for and participate in the ceremony, we are practicing a kind of remembering.
Remembering our own child-like innocence.
Remembering how malleable and playful the heart-mind of a child is.
Remembering a time in our life where our imagination was ripe. And we really were flowers. Or could become one at anytime. A time when hours could go by and we were perfectly content to sit and watch the daisies bob in the wind. Where we made crowns and wands and palaces out of flowers. A time when we could consult flowers for advice, and laugh with them in yellows, oranges, rubies and pinks.
This remembering stretches back before childhood, before we were born.
We are remembering who we are—before thought, before we got overly identified with this body. We are remembering our unborn buddha mind—our awakened nature.
Yodo’s poem is a reminder that the baby buddha in the ceremony—is us. Our buddha nature, our awakened nature is only right here.
Sometimes appearing as a flower, a face, anxiety, fear, aloneness, beauty, love.
All appearances are inseparable from the spacious embrace of our buddha nature.
Yet, we forget. So we practice remembering.
The baby buddha ceremony is a practice of remembering. Seeing flowers can be a practice of remembering. Zazen, chanting, bowing, the precepts, IFS, yoga, dancing all can be practices of remembering.
I recently was invited to give a teaching to the Pause Meditation Community on the theme of remembrance. As I was contemplating the theme, I rediscovered Joy Harjo’s poem Remember. And remembered the importance of poetry in our practice of remembering.
What is important to remember?
What do you want to remind yourself?
How do you remember?
Here’s a poem I wrote to help me Remember to Remember
Remember breath
How it breathes you, even as you sleep
And your mind drifts here and there
Even when you feel most alone
Its gentle rhythm soothes you
And gives you your life
Let yourself feel this ocean inside you
Rising and falling
Let yourself find your way back to yourself
Through the sensations of breath
Remember and you are aware
Your senses open to a world of wonder
Hear, see, feel, taste, smell
This is your wild and precious life
All is connected
You are part of this one life
Remember that all is changing
Mysteriously experience unfolds
These thoughts are just passing through
Nothing is fixed
Nothing is final
How you feel now will change
Is already changing
Feel the river of your life
Drink from it
Remember silence
Let yourself hear below
The murmur or yelling of thought
Before the music or the noise
Silence
Though it seems we are always
Trying to cover it over
Or fill it up
Silence remains
Feel your own inner silence
Befriend it
Listen to its wisdom
Let it show you something about who
You really are
Remember the goodness that you are
Feel the sincerity in your heart
Can you let yourself feel
The kindnesses that shape you
Open to joy
For no reason
Its here, even in the heartbreak
Even in the pain
Even when it feels farthest away
Remember this is your life
Its a good life
Its worth living
Feel its preciousness
Remember
For a deeper dive into this koan listen to the dharma talk where we explore more deeply some of the symbolism in the Buddha’s birth story, as well as Amala Roshi’s commentary to the koan found in the Hidden Lamp. Join Patrick Kennyo Dunn this coming Monday for Case 20: Shonin’s Shadeless Tree.
I’m Amy Kisei. I am a Zen Buddhist Teacher, Spiritual Counselor, Astrologer and Artist. I offer 1:1 Spiritual Counseling sessions using IFS and Hakomi (somatic mindfulness). I also offer astrology readings. Check out my website to learn more. I currently live in Columbus, OH and am a supporting teacher for the Mud Lotus Sangha.
Weekly Online Meditation Event
Monday Night Dharma — 6P PT / 9P ET Join weekly for drop-in meditation and dharma talk. This is where the Summer Read is happening if you want to join the discussion and practice live. Schedule here.
Feel free to join anytime. Event lasts about 1.5 hours. ZOOM LINK
In-Person in Columbus, Ohio through Mud Lotus Sangha
Weekly Meditations on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday
Retreats, Meditation instruction and other events can be found on our website.