tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-283943352024-03-18T06:43:48.115-07:00A Way to LiveDoyu Shoninhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00148504542232844586noreply@blogger.comBlogger713125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28394335.post-40749698791496407612024-03-18T06:43:00.000-07:002024-03-18T06:43:13.928-07:00無處11無處11<br /><br />Second Rohatsu in the hut, she feels<br /><br />cycles of living/not living,<br /><br />fallen leaves and fallen foxes<br /><br />fallen snowflakes, falling rain<br /><br /><br /><br /><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/ABLVV86UdO1bcCNCeYT-pS_YjsMvPuf0P4axgwBMrBh8Xv1fFIO9tZ4YlVUyZLYtaLzjxNCo-iUMU8rmKA6QwrfFDUc5XH8qSOgUI37lvBl-PyD17kAlhspjBAdQD6Zi_Uaz_Vhf06jTkPORyo0s-BjnVokwUg=w640-h478?authuser=0" /> <br /><br />Sesshin, kinhin, walking meditation, twenty people shuffling gently on the laptop screen behind her; she picks up her cup in passing and pauses to count starlings. When did they begin to stay all winter? <br /><br /><div class="page" title="Page 75"><div class="layoutArea"><div class="column"><br /><i>The cries of crickets are already scarce and far between. </i></div><div class="column"><i>The trees and grass have lost their proud summer colors. </i></div><div class="column"><i>The long night often requires a new filling of my censer. </i></div><div class="column"><i>Chill on my skin forces upon me a pile of thick garments. </i></div><div class="column"><i>Let us use our diligence while we may, my gentle friends, </i></div><div class="column"><i>Time flies like an arrow and lingers not a moment for us. </i></div><div class="column"><br />--Ryokan, tr. Nobuyuki Yuasa, <i>Zen Poems of Ryokan</i>, 75 <br /></div>
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<br /><br /><br />Doyu Shoninhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00148504542232844586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28394335.post-89493083229934717522024-03-17T04:59:00.000-07:002024-03-17T04:59:29.195-07:00無處 10<p>無處 10</p><p>A plague strikes; she moves to the hut</p><p>for ten days. Wheezing Heart Sutra</p><p>is hard, so just think the words</p><p>and pretend it is not thinking </p><p><br /></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p><img aria-label="Photo - Landscape - Mar 21, 2020, 9:10:01 AM" class="BiCYpc" data-iml="332319" height="480" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/ABLVV866HIhHBtCFUl79F8Vn-cSPmaBShBOfwgn73McWDAAUqXdl9GNdNDwHgvne1iEAurWrbyzeKLL-ME4mCkdVOo8zNFGzWhDDPyDMbPf88c_H4G1Hg9nAF2O6PRxsRYER0O4iSdZjBc9lFFzGbBuiX40nbA=w640-h480?authuser=0" style="transform: translate3d(0px, 0px, 0px) rotate(0deg);" width="640" /> </p><p> </p><p>In the first week of March, 2020, the farm's gate is closed on advice of the government. It turns out she has already inhaled something. Things seem a little crazy in the hospitals out there, so she elects to sit it out alone, visiting the family through the laptop's video camera. She treks to the hut with baskets of food and sets up cough-keeping. Not sufficiently aware of her precarity to be frightened, she lives slowly, cooks small meals, drinks homely teas, wonders how the little dog is doing.</p><p><br /></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><i>Without hindrance, the mind has no fear.</i><br />--Heart Sutra<br /></p><p><br /></p>Doyu Shoninhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00148504542232844586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28394335.post-41399499322524782022024-03-16T07:22:00.000-07:002024-03-16T07:30:05.817-07:00無處 9<p>無處 9</p><p>Bright windows prove helpful</p><p>as old eyes look for needle's next </p><p>plunge. Where will it come out?</p><p>Every time, surprise</p><p><br /></p><p> <img aria-label="Photo - Landscape - Jul 15, 2019, 11:21:16 AM" class="BiCYpc" data-iml="139118" height="478" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/ABLVV869WVl6JcMvHmBiR1KhRHEMDDshAsq9nsluQLoNYJnybdqGQRzOLLPj_e5_mswAiR4f04WjygXoWCFoa73brRkteO3TZvIDXhizcE6njJ6lLxgjm7gUDurXfyyitIUehJ1QsxrQ9zPuGPDFAh3WvluOAQ=w640-h478?authuser=0" style="transform: translate3d(0px, 0px, 0px) rotate(0deg);" width="640" /> </p><p>Her teacher tells her she is a nun. She begins sewing a black robe. It's
too hot in here for that, so she pokes a hole in the wall, to run a fan. For a break, she sits in the shade of the cottonwoods, sipping switchel. Quail run across her legs, one by one.</p><p>
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<br /><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span face=""Fd171200-Identity-H"" style="color: #010101;">Let go of emptiness and come back to the brambly forest.</span></i></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span><i><span face=""Fd171200-Identity-H"" style="color: #010101;">
Riding backward on the ox, drunken and singing;</span></i></span><br /><span><i><span face=""Fd171200-Identity-H"" style="color: #010101;">
Who could dislike the misty rain </span></i></span><br /><span><i><span face=""Fd171200-Identity-H"" style="color: #010101;">pattering on your bamboo raincoat and hat?</span></i></span><br /><span><span face=""Fd171200-Identity-H"" style="color: #030303;"><i>In empty space you cannot stick a needle.
</i></span></span><br /><span><span face=""Fd171200-Identity-H"" style="color: #030303;">-- attr. Dongshan Liangje, The Five Ranks tr. Leighton in</span></span><br /><span><span face=""Fd171200-Identity-H"" style="color: #030303;"><i>Cultivating the Empty Field, </i>77</span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: small;"><span face=""Fd171200-Identity-H"" style="color: #030303;"></span></span></p>
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Doyu Shoninhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00148504542232844586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28394335.post-32659521559457861552024-03-15T06:44:00.000-07:002024-03-15T06:44:12.650-07:00 無處 8<p> <span style="font-size: medium;">無處 8</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The old woman adopts </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">technology in the hermitary</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">and prepares to sit zazen</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">with people from everywhere<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><img aria-label="Photo - Landscape - Jul 10, 2019, 3:54:24 PM" class="BiCYpc" data-iml="126093" height="479" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/ABLVV84aWf5aJB5e0-Mf5qtBoFbIXJpvYRZfqqxW23hEENZO5RSm1WiJDSuBe5ZkNmnpUG5-zSp1P8tbaSYJy8m5v-EcKD0j8-nSoYXRwHXewfUWAjoBmMhg95i3XH7p83z8TiLMbLAbsci-pZnJaolDGjVxPA=w640-h479?authuser=0" style="transform: translate3d(0px, 0px, 0px) rotate(0deg);" width="640" /></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">This image is from 2019, with no pandemic in sight. She discovers an online sangha and becomes involved, supplementing her local participation and broadening her considerably limited experience.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p>
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<p style="margin-left: 40px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-family: "DejaVuSerif";">Each moment</span><span style="font-family: "DejaVuSerif"; vertical-align: 4pt;"> </span></i><span style="font-family: "DejaVuSerif";"><i>of zazen is equally wholeness of practice, equally wholeness
of realization for this and for that. This is not only practised while sitting, it
is like a hammer striking emptiness; before and after, its ringing pervades
everywhere. How can it be limited to a place?</i> </span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "DejaVuSerif";">-- Dogen, <i>Bendowa tr. </i>Hoshin and Dainen</span><span style="font-family: "DejaVuSerif";"><i><br /></i></span></span></p>
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Doyu Shoninhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00148504542232844586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28394335.post-72720764956419126482024-03-14T03:26:00.000-07:002024-03-14T03:26:18.163-07:00無處 7<p><span style="font-size: medium;"> 無處 7</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">She chases light with her cot and desk</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">in winter, looking south,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">in summer, looking north.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">in the morning, sun. At night, stars</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><img aria-label="Photo - Square - May 12, 2019, 11:05:00 AM" class="BiCYpc" data-iml="481102" height="640" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/ABLVV8577DFInNJQGGXflWog_M5VHpluExdyENbmpBxqIB50mvZajTvgUsGXsuxYid-ta9bgHp3IjJ0u4DkECZQrdWGFZEEaqEymttmvnnsHjk-xPLYLFTDKqvyNu-GQkoz7TgnHEf6HjBp8zCxWkZcWf_xOSA=w640-h640?authuser=0" style="transform: translate3d(0px, 0px, 0px) rotate(0deg);" width="640" /> </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">With the large windows, which she had retrieved from a salvage pile, she finds company in sunbeams, songbirds, even a passing fox. At night, lying on her cot, she discovers the Milky Way entangled in bare twigs and branches. What is there to discuss about koans that is not like arguing over the color of the sky? <br /></span></p><div class="page" title="Page 394"><div class="layoutArea"><div class="column"><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Out of the way, I don’t seek the carriages of the eminent.<br />At dawn pear-blossom rain splashes my secluded window,<br /> At dusk I borrow fragments of stars to mend the broken tiles. </i><br /></span>
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<div class="column"><span style="font-size: medium;">-- Wang Duanshu (1621–ca. 1680), tr. Zong-Qi Cai</span>
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<p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p></p>Doyu Shoninhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00148504542232844586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28394335.post-42333401958562878722024-03-13T08:31:00.000-07:002024-03-13T08:31:59.756-07:00無處 6<p>無處 6</p><p>After snow, deluge. </p><p>The hut travels a bit </p><p>toward the creek, expounding</p><p>the first noble truth</p><p><br /></p><p><img aria-label="Photo - Landscape - Apr 8, 2019, 2:04:42 PM" class="BiCYpc" data-iml="111908" height="450" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/ABLVV86_kFO8qRpnffBV0-6uBcssX7knOd6dB9DYd02TK6Sj6fiefO6PAPmoqjcKwlfYXesFDrv4Kt7KJ_f1-7h2Zk6bwPZwrztADq_9eXv_IJpwgzDDR7mOQccirVTUFkxz5rhVi--r2Y3e6pnm-KSAc0iVWQ=w640-h450?authuser=0" style="transform: translate3d(0px, 0px, 0px) rotate(0deg);" width="640" /> </p><p><br /></p><p>Awakening to find trees and fences down, the old woman instinctively checks her pulse, as if to discover how many beats remain. When we are told we are one with the universe, we nod in agreement, but also tend to grab something and hold on.</p><p> </p><p>
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<div class="column" style="margin-left: 40px;"><i>Of all the waters in the world <br />The Ocean is greatest.<br />All the rivers pour into it<br />Day and night;<br />It is never filled.</i></div><div class="column" style="margin-left: 40px;"><br /></div><div class="column" style="margin-left: 40px;">--Chuang-Tzu, tr. Thomas Merton<br /></div>
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Doyu Shoninhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00148504542232844586noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28394335.post-52658396417151685312024-03-12T08:10:00.000-07:002024-03-12T08:10:21.445-07:00無處 5<p> 無處 5</p><p>Tramping through unexpected drifts </p><p>she finds the hut even more silent</p><p>trees fold into themselves <br /></p><p>road noises vanish, birds hunker down</p><p> </p><p><img aria-label="Photo - Square - Feb 26, 2019, 12:12:07 PM" class="BiCYpc" data-iml="208938" height="640" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/ABLVV87yQ1uF38Cr1BIy5j3CbRfM-J5dLaa1waROgu5eG4wkObQujaSO8YiCY5_qSCDrjxtCVtH1dcnWNOCATLU-DeY-Jtfmm6HAM7ji6lCV1MQ1PZhtQWHy3Q-V1vy5psRq0i-Z1cUu8R0XTmMl-VwusvdrAQ=w640-h640?authuser=0" style="transform: translate3d(0px, 0px, 0px) rotate(0deg);" width="640" /> </p><p> </p><p>Delighting in the quietude, though she finds even the interior of the hut bright enough to make her squint. The old woman makes tea and gazes in wonder at the distant hills. "It's like New Hampshire," she thinks, never having been to New Hampshire. The distant hills remain themselves.</p><p> </p><p>
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<p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Fd1626-Identity-H'; font-size: 8.000000pt;"> </span><i>When Layman P'ang took leave of Yao Shan, Shan ordered ten Ch'an travellers to escort him to the gate. The Layman pointed to the snow in the air and said, "Good snowflakes; they don't fall in any other place."</i> -- Blue Cliff Record, tr. Thomas Cleary and J. C. Cleary </p></div>
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<p> </p>Doyu Shoninhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00148504542232844586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28394335.post-12290815061757297072024-03-11T05:10:00.000-07:002024-03-11T05:10:00.141-07:00無處 4<p>無處 4</p><p>Han Shan was not young</p><p>his ability to scale slick rock faces</p><p>in rainy winter stuns her; what</p><p>does falling down on her pasture path mean</p><p> <br /></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p><img aria-label="Photo - Landscape - Mar 20, 2018, 9:37:55 AM" class="BiCYpc" data-iml="242399" height="478" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/ABLVV84LwZ6osZmRkVlTwaAO8OSJgKK6h_D3CPaILah_guvykPozfE1DbDuNM5MjR57xL-HnXJgWSiCXqtjB-FfbbF9kBtSk57D7_5chJ9-99uEsGMeC10F8pCM165iQbGk-9SZp3Wen3vhKUxLoFAquvN9zHg=w640-h478?authuser=0" style="transform: translate3d(0px, 0px, 0px) rotate(0deg);" width="640" /> </p><p><br />She sits by her space heater in the hut reading of Han Shan's adventures in a thin robe high in the mountains year round and shivers at the thought. Just getting back to the house after an evening's introspection will be enough adventure for her old bones. Is there anything left in her flashlight's batteries, she wonders. The bridge! That rushing high water! Thus the exurbs become wilderness. </p><p> </p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><i>Down to the stream to watch the jade flow<br /> or back to the cliff to sit on a boulder<br /> my mind like a cloud remains unattached<br /> what do I need in the faraway world</i></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;">--Cold Mountain (Han Shan) tr. Red Pine<br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Doyu Shoninhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00148504542232844586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28394335.post-81032363474913953052024-03-10T05:00:00.000-07:002024-03-10T05:00:00.254-07:00無處 3 <p>無處 3 </p><p>Home-dyed blue muslin and cranberry thread</p><p>stubby fingers advance a millimeter</p><p>something something Shakyamuni</p><p>eyes cloud over, hands shake</p><p><br /></p><p><img aria-label="Photo - Landscape - Apr 14, 2016, 11:46:19 AM" class="BiCYpc" data-iml="6484826" height="411" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmZ5kEtbtbWwobSw2vEnf5SXiO6ZIcXOQVMR6fsp8bl4tsoFWOKwP2SjtBUJsCiWxfRdKIK-zh7nqFCS0gmaSPFNJXSC0JAvB20V3uyAWuxyzamRUW918y-gcQ0a0QbutaAYuD/w640-h411/?authuser=0" style="transform: translate3d(0px, 0px, 0px) rotate(0deg);" width="640" /> </p><p>Promising, with thin fabric, to make promises to herself, she takes up the unaccustomed needle. Sew a straight line to represent walking a straight path.</p><p> </p><p>
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<p style="margin-left: 40px;"><i>Though there is no space even for needle to enter,<br />Yet it controls all the mountain peaks around.<br /> It is not unusual for a tiny particle to contain the whole world. <br />Mt Sumeru enters into a mustard seed and becomes one with it. </i></p><div style="margin-left: 40px;">
-- Songs of Preceptor Naong (1320–1376) tr. Whitfield and Park</div></div></div></div><p> </p>Doyu Shoninhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00148504542232844586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28394335.post-71573377409807219262024-03-09T05:26:00.000-08:002024-03-09T05:26:00.251-08:00無處 2<p>無處 2</p><p>Quietly hazel roots explore duff</p><p>twitching past rotting cottonwood </p><p>to sip snowmelt as it rushes past.</p><p>old brain trustingly mimics hazel <br /></p><p> </p><p><img aria-label="Photo - Landscape - Nov 25, 2015, 11:11:10 AM" class="BiCYpc" data-iml="4467431" height="434" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/ABLVV85VfqhtcKSCJBT0zqtCfCHrYS279MgAKVhyGAjTlENQ0P5gKVIEMwGxpEp3GZF2CGUqv-lrvsEJc3m9xTuEpsClnigcuxdio684jsvXs_qGT3obvAR-4L0wAdkkYSGcwlgxwAD3HK45Juzd-kGyzzYv7Q=w640-h434?authuser=0" style="transform: translate3d(0px, 0px, 0px) rotate(0deg);" width="640" /> </p><p><br /></p><p>With the little dog, she investigates the nearby river. Water flows over stones, never the same water twice, but also never the same stones twice. A hazel tree attends hazel-ness. An osprey hammers the water surface and carries away surprised protein. </p><div class="page" title="Page 120"><div class="layoutArea"><div class="column"><br /><div style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><i>Fish and dragons live in the water without being aware</i><br /><i> And they move around with the currents and the waves.</i><br /><i> Since from the beginning they never left it, they neither gain nor lose,</i><br /><i> If there were no delusions, then whence might enlightenment come?</i></div></div><div class="column" style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"> </div><div class="column" style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"> -- Collected Poems of Muuija (1178–1234) tr. Whitfield and Park<br /></div> </div> </div> Doyu Shoninhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00148504542232844586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28394335.post-24068826789762990692024-03-08T05:44:00.000-08:002024-03-08T05:44:00.127-08:00無處 1 (new series)<div class="term clearfix ">
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</span>無處<span class="word trad"></span> 1*</div><p><br /></p><p>Mornings roll past, putting shadows</p><p>in motion. Darkness caresses each</p><p>object; each object caresses light.</p><p>The old woman's eyes adjust</p><p><br /></p><p><img aria-label="Photo - Landscape - Jun 4, 2015, 6:10:36 PM" class="BiCYpc" data-iml="44679" height="480" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/ABLVV85AzE5bwENdDLOoRlG8yq5p3XzLwqGXQdOYQ8_vEMRZDuGfnCD--A13AH9JanNjAnl7gqTHqysE0qn4y7EeOtgRzQ8BQSDaH4xrYOIsUMrLEC93dFki9DPElilkPgN-3VQeqAQomf6x7-j2Oi9SnkaNog=w640-h480?authuser=0" style="transform: translate3d(0px, 0px, 0px) rotate(0deg);" width="640" /> </p>One of her children, long grown, has left behind a celebratory birth quilt; she spreads it as an altar cloth. In a shallow raku dish she places maple seeds. Moving them from one dish to another, she offers them as "incense;" a mouse accepts the offering. Shadows of ash and cottonwood chase one another as yet another day, amazingly, for no reason she can discern, brightens.<p><br /></p><p>
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<p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><i>Absolute truth is emptiness of all dharmas,<br /> Hence there is no reason to be obsessed with things.</i></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;">-- Collected Sayings of Preceptor Baegun (1299–1375) tr. Whitfield and Park<br /></p><p> </p><p>* <span class="word"><a href="https://chinese.yabla.com/chinese-english-pinyin-dictionary.php?define=无">无</a><a href="https://chinese.yabla.com/chinese-english-pinyin-dictionary.php?define=处">处</a>
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<span class="lbl">Trad.</span> <a href="https://chinese.yabla.com/chinese-english-pinyin-dictionary.php?define=無">無</a><a href="https://chinese.yabla.com/chinese-english-pinyin-dictionary.php?define=處">處</a> </span><span class="pinyin">wú chù = "Nowhere"<br /></span></p><p><span class="word trad"></span> </p></div>
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Doyu Shoninhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00148504542232844586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28394335.post-789557064349160512024-03-07T06:55:00.000-08:002024-03-07T06:55:21.636-08:00In Place 48<img aria-label="Photo - Landscape - Dec 13, 2019, 3:00:02 PM" class="BiCYpc" data-iml="15059530" height="513" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/ABLVV85y9ZX2E4xBKOSR4J77zGw40fZXexBhbrCAiYocGc8SkfAFaKAyJPCrAJMGFLbqzqfKl1nSkumLsAwOx1KZJIGCrajH9AU_vUq_kgAyQjk2X8SzssfjhYhgrO89KG_WvoHz256pd-WCwS0371-80QD0jQ=w687-h513-s-no?authuser=0" style="transform: translate3d(0px, 0px, 0px) rotate(0deg);" width="687" /><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I've built a fiberglass-roofed hut </span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">where there's nothing to take away. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"> After eating, </span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">I conk out. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"> When the hut was completed, </span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">it was a children's playhouse. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">It had long been abandoned — </span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">covered by blackberries. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"> Sometimes I live at the hut, </span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">trying out Nagarjuna. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"> No need to go shopping. </span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">No movies, no popcorn. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">Though the hut is nine feet square, </span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">Nowhere is there a place not here. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"> Within, an old nun </span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">gawks out the window. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">With her "instinctive knowing what to do" </span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">she trusts being/time. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"> The neighbors can't help wondering — </span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">what's going on in there? </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">For now, the old crone is present, </span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">losing track of Meaning. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"> Knowing she does not know up or down, </span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">she looks straight ahead. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">A wide window below green cottonwoods-- </span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">five star hotels can't compare with it. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">Just nestling in her zero-g chair</span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">all things are settled. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"> Thus, this mountain nun </span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">doesn't squint at circumstances. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">Living here she no longer </span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">hankers for escape. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">Who would proudly arrange place settings, </span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">trying to lure guests? </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">Doing as a Buddha does</span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">cannot <i>not</i> be what a Buddha is. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"> Thusness can't be </span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">looked toward or away from. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">Meet the lineages and spiritual friends, </span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">absorb their guidance. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">Salvage fence boards to build a hut </span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">and don't give up. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">When your begging bowl breaks, </span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">which it will, relax into your day. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"> Open your face </span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">and walk, de-stressed. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">Thousands of teachers </span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">babble, but the message isn't garbled. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">If you want to benefit </span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">from dwelling in your hut, </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"> Don't expect to be polishing that begging bowl </span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">forever.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /> </span><p></p>Doyu Shoninhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00148504542232844586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28394335.post-34057882995193155212024-03-06T05:20:00.000-08:002024-03-06T05:20:00.135-08:00In Place 47<p> 47<br /><br />In late summer this work began;<br />in another summer she brings pears<br />and apples to sit and pare<br />while watching the sun go down<br /><br /><br /><img aria-label="Photo - Landscape - Jul 13, 2018, 8:03:15 AM" class="BiCYpc" data-iml="14560682" height="513" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/ABLVV85pZnV7AX33UjaxR13z74iOpAtSUUnpHLmBQ8e5PfteGJipo3zfhG6wOYwwjKfel6ZJKmVafvqhIVe3mG-73y804mKA2I5k5a7lgryohZc8qA0L0nSL2o8ZQFzf4KjwINNqCoNL_gcznDAz3fEHV8nTYA=w687-h513-s-no?authuser=0" style="transform: translate3d(0px, 0px, 0px) rotate(0deg);" width="687" /><br /><br /><br />It could be objected that the old woman having a retirement income is hypocritical in presenting the half-hermit life as if it were a thing. Her response is that she's suspended by her obligations between the way of a householder and the way of a hermit. Yet there can be value in reflection wherever one is. <br /><br /></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><i>Do not look back on the past, nor anticipate the future, but take whatever is brought forth by the present and endeavor to dispose of it as best you can.</i><br />—Hung Ying Ming, <i>Discourses on Vegetable Roots</i> (tr. Isobe)</p>Doyu Shoninhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00148504542232844586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28394335.post-40193079146926120892024-03-05T05:18:00.000-08:002024-03-05T05:18:00.135-08:00In Place 46<p> 46<br /><br />In spring, dandelion and nettle tea,<br />in summer, mint and blackberry tea,<br />in fall, chicory and mulberry tea,<br />in winter, fir needle and dried vegetable tea</p><p><br /><br /><img aria-label="Photo - Square - Feb 22, 2018, 10:37:45 AM" class="BiCYpc" data-iml="13744458" height="640" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/ABLVV87BRhmlsifb1mBtauKkTRqSskjn1mnm9Q-riokurB2snYV-PRZPU4rz1-K1VJunRZ9fXNrv-rSc-PUiQD_AoICWQuXVyTndo-mbl-pc7CJpCiSHiQjb0oajEOMjvsKd325X-FYvafYvTVdX3Wam6vBjMQ=w640-h640?authuser=0" style="transform: translate3d(0px, 0px, 0px) rotate(0deg);" width="640" /><br /><br /><br />She sees that around her, with the cultivation of a little knowledge, the earth is inclined toward generosity. She reciprocates by treading lightly -- has gardened without chemicals for fifty years, and, to the extent possible for her, used hand tools. She knows she has not been as faithful to these principles as she could have, and that this has not dented the world's problems, but when she goes from garden to zazen, seldom feels that nagging sense of something left unaddressed. It is in the present moment, and only there, that there can be this simplicity.<br /></p><p><i><br /><br />Sacred refers to that which helps take us (not only human beings) out of our little selves into the whole mountains-and-rivers mandala universe. </i><br />--Gary Snyder, <i>The Practice of the Wild</i> 94</p>Doyu Shoninhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00148504542232844586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28394335.post-70028006655959907522024-03-04T05:17:00.000-08:002024-03-04T11:50:54.460-08:00In Place 45<p>45<br /><br />Food and drink, free for the labor,<br />are the proper business<br />of humans; she strives to make<br />gratitude her main possession</p><p><br /><br /><img aria-label="Photo - Landscape - Apr 1, 2018, 11:19:11 AM" class="BiCYpc" data-iml="13571643" height="479" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/ABLVV848IHANFQbNlnM3kYDrs-MqZnKTlJqm7qONfmX4Az9x9PIlWBaR4uWiFyxlT_UW6ZruhHX8LgtPr_BhAh8MhRWq6UWG99in3iissR3mZQXWgX2MR-r0eUgDvLQRTiksjbQlUXHGFY23gFaMOBCstagWLg=w640-h479?authuser=0" style="transform: translate3d(0px, 0px, 0px) rotate(0deg);" width="640" /><br /><br /><br />She grows more vegetables than she needs and puts herself in a position to give some away, thus paying her debt of gratitude. <br /><br /><br /></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><i>The Buddhist path itself is understood as something that brings gratitude and joy.</i><br />-- Paula Arai, <i>Women Living Zen</i> 151</p>Doyu Shoninhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00148504542232844586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28394335.post-47921714213850159382024-03-03T05:02:00.000-08:002024-03-04T11:50:54.452-08:00In Place 44<p> 44<br /><br />Plant vegetables; this provides<br />exercise and sharpens observation<br />as well as making food and tea<br />available to you and others<br /><br /><br /><img aria-label="Photo - Landscape - Jul 3, 2019, 10:33:13 AM" class="BiCYpc" data-iml="12406474" height="345" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/ABLVV87NvM-Rd4kk4NnpZjoXJCJhGSqeAjRXuo6eODrM3FHUAh4TUknUll8EkNQZi4nTAvZ66i8wEAi92vCFgRHSTAZcYztbKC5roEPJiJ9LWlOFJ0M3_lY1D3uu-PcqUhrovk64t6mozEsFso_BjCGpS9imIA=w640-h345?authuser=0" style="transform: translate3d(0px, 0px, 0px) rotate(0deg);" width="640" /><br /><br /><br />We cultivate ourselves indoors and we cultivate ourselves outdoors, hoe in hand. </p><p>A couple of beds inside the fence, of kale, chard and potatoes mostly, keep the old woman busy in her tiny kitchen. As she waters the garden, small birds dart through the spray to catch a drop.<br /><br /><br /></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><i>We empty our minds in the hall for creating buddhas, where some naturally open their flower of awakening in this monastic garden in the hills.</i><br />-- Hongzhi, quoted by Dogen in Eihei Koroku, 250 (tr. Leighton and Okamura)<br /></p><p><br /></p>Doyu Shoninhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00148504542232844586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28394335.post-38236968984830602992024-03-02T05:13:00.000-08:002024-03-04T11:50:54.450-08:00In Place 43<p> 43<br /><br />Inspired by her stairs,<br />the old woman undertakes<br />to clear more stream bed;<br />instant rock garden<br /><br /><br /><img aria-label="Photo - Square - Aug 8, 2018, 8:52:29 AM" class="BiCYpc" data-iml="11122134" height="615" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/ABLVV84owNiDUOJ90pkjQ1CGUJE5tIbQOc6hiuLAa8xo7W7t4e87YRBrcIiZK-lknprJp--DDrMQLc8N6KRIwalAjS8Pjz0iPbPUjAa_VyIKYJFMbt0hPEmKnMFQT-ZTxHJQtun6RhIv9FlK0rVq4sTekb7OSg=w615-h615-s-no?authuser=0" style="transform: translate3d(0px, 0px, 0px) rotate(0deg);" width="615" /><br /><br /><br />Between the stones she has tucked comfrey, mint, and mosses. In drought, she waters the stones, hopefully keeping the “garden” alive till winter.<br /><br /><br /></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><i>Plans and events seldom agree<br />Who can step back doesn't worry<br />We blossom and fade like flowers<br />We gather and part like clouds</i><br />—Shiwu (Stonehouse, tr. Red Pine)</p>Doyu Shoninhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00148504542232844586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28394335.post-4654685769092778412024-03-01T05:12:00.000-08:002024-03-04T11:50:54.438-08:00In Place 42<p>42<br /><br />In summer she, grunting, hauls <br />large stones from the dry wash<br />up to the hut to make steps<br />for those who keep to a path<br /><br /><br /><img aria-label="Photo - Square - Aug 8, 2018, 8:52:11 AM" class="BiCYpc" data-iml="9974012" height="640" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/ABLVV85sLuMzAda-_kHhDLWs_BGXNxasbX7q5_HKONMVBSkQ_mqS_5KwXAQjfBMF_W0Z_hT4nIFWBPFwS3D5LofphVgbZSg7fS29-P8gn1OyveHkBlFHeAZz2k4Obfbczvp2jLtWSSAP9AOamYSPGGBAVTuJyQ=w640-h640?authuser=0" style="transform: translate3d(0px, 0px, 0px) rotate(0deg);" width="640" /><br /><br /><br /><br /></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><i>Back by the stone bridge, mind returns.<br />Where now the things that troubled me?</i><br />— Han Shan (tr. Red Pine)<br /></p><p> </p>Doyu Shoninhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00148504542232844586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28394335.post-19025321222509282992024-02-29T05:11:00.000-08:002024-03-04T11:50:54.443-08:00In Place 41<p> 41<br /><br />Year round, here, she can make<br />yard tea; always something green:<br />fir needles, blackberry leaves, nettles --<br />easier in high summer<br /><br /><br /><img aria-label="Photo - Landscape - Jul 1, 2022, 3:32:54 PM" class="BiCYpc" data-iml="8053128" height="478" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/ABLVV87mbAfZ48lNngotj7rfgjdrBmTDEscLvJ08aOG3_NWq8lniwbXRiXDBMXbWSNG1rZXLui1vecGRgdaJSc55B6KTZV1Tjntf1yvmzMJn84uAMPZMog8ZwfS2ZWmiVfJE7txoBX2oDrTuYE4eyO1fC_2f6w=w640-h478?authuser=0" style="transform: translate3d(0px, 0px, 0px) rotate(0deg);" width="640" /><br /><br /><br />Hiding from the westering sun, she hangs shades from the eaves.<br /><br /><i>Yunyan was boiling some tea. Daowu asked who he was making it for. Yunyan answered, "nobody special."</i><br />-- <i>Soto Zen Ancestors in China</i>, Mitchell, 72.<br /><br /><br /></p>Doyu Shoninhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00148504542232844586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28394335.post-26791198702421536972024-02-28T04:55:00.000-08:002024-03-04T11:50:54.446-08:00In Place 40<p>40<br /><br />Horses and bison tread<br />past her south window at dawn;<br />she pulls back the east shade.<br />how many days without sun?<br /><br /><br /><img aria-label="Photo - Square - Mar 19, 2018, 5:10:40 PM" class="BiCYpc" data-iml="7598485" height="640" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/ABLVV84ab1r0BgLUXtmP4cNt4YbuUhqO-A_oY01o0obgIGD4Rbs15cvDbEjt5IKhfhpfISo5GMtJBswcWkJpmhKX0uMLfkNz9_I8SIQ7IRV_QdjQ9lHhwLjujbmbYMiMRyQkQ8WJZespHUmHnYLJkqVm3jhHtg=w640-h640?authuser=0" style="transform: translate3d(0px, 0px, 0px) rotate(0deg);" width="640" /><br /><br /><br />The few mornings the old woman has awakened at the hut instead of the house have been notable for a certain quiet sublimity, especially in winter, with the small creek roaring nearby. One could say that in the exurbs one can experience something of what Chinese hermits go to remote mountains for, but then, one should be able to practice anywhere without making distinctions, yes?</p><p><br /><br /><i>By blue waters, in green hills are places to stroll quietly; near valleys, under trees are places for clearing the mind. Beholding impermanence, do not ignore it, for it encourages the mind to search the Way.</i><br />-- Keizan, "Instructions on How to Do Pure Meditation" (tr. Nearman)</p>Doyu Shoninhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00148504542232844586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28394335.post-79461550635575830062024-02-27T05:08:00.000-08:002024-03-04T11:50:54.462-08:00In Place 39<p>39<br /><br />She has worn a path<br />deep enough to feel her way<br />with feet on glassed grasses:<br />ice on gate awakens her<br /><br /><br /><img aria-label="Photo - Landscape - Apr 11, 2021, 5:42:50 AM" class="BiCYpc" data-iml="6538801" height="480" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/ABLVV86oC7E54FlQCRRXbE65WG9hvwfH4rjodC-nGq4f5HuLXbAA4SPFTOC8Chk_A7QI9ytroKJXEuiKFn1AzN8I4EyBbf_sFW9scUFlFabN5bWxmUFkjzVJ_vR9HJocFnn9gD3x_REYwkWKm_qWkHfPa4z2Bg=w640-h480?authuser=0" style="transform: translate3d(0px, 0px, 0px) rotate(0deg);" width="640" /><br /><br /><br />In frost, the path is reliable, but in rain, its heavy clay slickens. She carries small flat stones, and when her foot slides, she drops one in that spot and tamps it in with her heel: slowly a cobblestone way is established.<br /><br /><br /><i>All night, a gentle rain fills the darkness outside<br />My long years of hard travel are over at last</i><br />-- Ryokan in <i>Great Fool: Zen Master Ryōkan: Poems, Letters, and Other Writings</i> 140 (Abé and Haskell, tr.)<br /> </p>Doyu Shoninhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00148504542232844586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28394335.post-66549533819909634982024-02-26T05:07:00.000-08:002024-03-04T11:50:54.459-08:00In Place 38<p>38<br /><br />She stays some nights, by<br />lamplight studying, or in<br />bed, watching the moon<br />stray among bare branches<br /><br /><br /><img aria-label="Photo - Landscape - Jun 16, 2019, 9:34:24 PM" class="BiCYpc" data-iml="6347906" height="478" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/ABLVV84xHojeeYrCoeqAfQQeuEUEJ0xZ7cb56GnBoPmco9UWRTQCy0mJR14Oj72zz_bgBcbckxExJ3Ocm3ePnaTFxk2Xm8i1wRzQTBg2EQOpfsLcOjyjNJcehcGC0j_0ZZBQZSu9paEOrx9m8RA70epjAsrnig=w640-h478?authuser=0" style="transform: translate3d(0px, 0px, 0px) rotate(0deg);" width="640" /><br /><br /><br /><i><br />I don't let white clouds leave the valley lightly<br />I escort the moon as far as my closed gate</i><br />Han-shan Te-ch'ing in <i>The Clouds Should Know Me By Now</i> 120 (tr. Red Pine)<br /><br /> </p>Doyu Shoninhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00148504542232844586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28394335.post-18788331004802294342024-02-25T05:06:00.000-08:002024-03-04T11:50:54.442-08:00In Place 37<p> 37<br /><br />Bison have moved south<br />across the snow to accept<br />farmers' delivered hay;<br />no geese fly, no starlings chat<br /><br /><br /><img aria-label="Photo - Square - Feb 22, 2018, 9:35:26 AM" class="BiCYpc" data-iml="5238844" height="640" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/ABLVV85pbljIueublOvkSp9wq8be2omhxhi7vJI0MsYNy22afUNw1gz-a_KKCKdM4CGO3lc8fqVFX7sn6Op-lt8sCkhkbzUL9w_q2HjPUCqRUukcPevue0wdU11U2HFiCqhJ2oj6ScZ0usHqtOfI2QEjwEZdng=w640-h640?authuser=0" style="transform: translate3d(0px, 0px, 0px) rotate(0deg);" width="640" /><br /><br /><br />The hut’s large windows permit close observation of the life cycles of one’s plant and animal neighbors. One comes to realize there is no separation.<br /><br /><br /></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><i>If we think, “I am here and the mountain is over there,” that is a dualistic way of observing things.</i><br />--Shunryu Suzuki, Branching Streams Flow in the Darkness 28.<br /></p><p><br /><br /></p>Doyu Shoninhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00148504542232844586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28394335.post-53001196032553463822024-02-24T05:04:00.000-08:002024-03-04T11:50:54.454-08:00In Place 36<p>36<br /><br />Atop her desk, "one who listens<br />to the cries of the world" rests<br />in emptiness, yet serves to salve<br />inner and outer wounds<br /><br /><br /><img aria-label="Photo - Square - Feb 4, 2019, 8:08:23 AM" class="BiCYpc" data-iml="4890735" height="615" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/ABLVV85hDNnDsaSQ3KvVIEM_B6oe-o53SiQ3bpeV2UHv_akErcHbAFZ_rGTSUaP6LDpLwx4w9a_injasCmQyBkW19rMCjYx03JK1pQkRFkPzkT1p0iGhRN9tUx-zN49xsQ8VuGvF0GklMVyrZ9pzdDkujooEMQ=w615-h615-s-no?authuser=0" style="transform: translate3d(0px, 0px, 0px) rotate(0deg);" width="615" /><br /><br /><br />A friend donated a statuette of Avalokiteshvara, or Guanyin (Jp. Kannon), the bodhisattva who “hears the cries of the world.” It’s evidently a mass market copy of the great (2m height) Song Dynasty Guanyin currently on display in the National Museum of China, Beijing. The pose is Royal Ease, and Guanyin appears to be teaching while holding a lotus-flower wish-fulfillment jewel. Above the statuette on the wall there is a framed copy of the Heart Sutra; to the left there is a framed enso or empty circle from one of the series of the “Ten Ox-Herding Pictures (Ox and Ox-Herd Both Gone Out of Sight)." To the right is a framed photograph of the memorial statue of Mugai Nyodai (1223-1298), first abbess in Japanese Zen, who is said to have <i>burned her face with a hot iron in order to be accepted to live and study among male monks</i>.<br /><br /><br /></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><i>With nothing to attain, a bodhisattva relies on prajnaparamita, and thus the mind is without hindrance. Without hindrance, there is no fear.</i><br />-- Avalokiteshvara in the Heart Sutra. <br /></p>Doyu Shoninhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00148504542232844586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28394335.post-72458741435682803232024-02-23T05:02:00.000-08:002024-03-04T11:50:54.460-08:00In Place 35<p> 35<br /><br />Sun slants across the room<br />differently each day; sometimes her<br />young friend (who points to the earth) shines<br />but sometimes darkness holds him<br /><br /><br /><img aria-label="Photo - Landscape - Feb 18, 2019, 9:37:10 AM" class="BiCYpc" data-iml="4663701" height="478" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/ABLVV85elghkG-NEbr_QPrKuaMfyptdAmPRiK_AXeYklY2ZGOD9Oyz_lut-4YdNADtDIdfOjRMXLQLMrYb334KRsMzTPld7BWkxMKPWVzoPxA7ibwcLZPCQyH35R69ZmEvU6IE0oGG-ezPJK-A_drH3wcWQfKQ=w640-h478?authuser=0" style="transform: translate3d(0px, 0px, 0px) rotate(0deg);" width="640" /><br /><br /><br />Sun strikes the young man on the altar mostly in winter. At the height of summer he reposes in shade. There is no hindrance; light and its absence require each other to make one universe.<br /><br /><br /></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><i>In darkest night it is perfectly clear; in the light of dawn it is hidden. <br />It is a standard for all things; its use removes all suffering.<br />Although it is not constructed, it is not beyond words.<br />Like facing a precious mirror; form and reflection behold each other.</i><br />-- Dongshan, "Song of the Precious Mirror Samadhi" in Taishō shinshū daizōkyō (1924-33) reprinted in Hongzhi, <i>Cultivating the Empty Field</i>, 2000, tr. Leighton and Yi Wu<br /></p><p><br /></p>Doyu Shoninhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00148504542232844586noreply@blogger.com0