Appamada Appamada

2024-04-16 I Inquiry I Direct Pointing Out Instructions I Suzanne Kilkus by Appamada

00:02:00 - A short reading from ‘Not Always So: Practicing the True Spirit of Zen by Shunryu Suzuki
00:03:50 - Reading from: Seeds for a Boundless Life: Zen Teachings from the Heart by Zenkei Blanche Hartman
00:05:33 - The Niagara River By Kay Ryan (see below)
00:08:50 - The Fourth Sign of the Zodiac by Mary Oliver
00:15:47 - Peonies by Mary Oliver
00:21:37 - Ann Invites Questions



The Niagara River
By Kay Ryan
1945 –
As thoughthe river werea floor, we positionour table and chairsupon it, eat, andhave conversation.As it moves along,we notice—ascalmly as thoughdining room paintingswere being replaced—the changing scenesalong the shore. Wedo know, we doknow this is theNiagara River, butit is hard to rememberwhat that means.

The Fourth Sign of the Zodiac
by Mary Oliver

2024- 04-09 I Inquiry I The Hum of the Refrigerator I Josh Gifford by Appamada

2024-04-08 | Depth in Practice | Noble Truths, Noble Path | Bhikkhu Bodhi by Appamada

00:00:43 - Recap of the Book so Far
00:07:23 - Peg Begins Reading ‘Not Two’ - Part 3 - Chapter 10 - Becoming who you are

00:00:33 - Flint and Peg Begin
00:06:12 - 'What if You Knew' - By Ellen Bass
00:10:22 - Peg describes an Activity 'Walk and Talk'
00:11:46 - Participants Walk In Pairs for 30 Minutes
00:11:55 - Reflections/Comments

What if You Knew

What if you knew you'd be the last to touch someone?
If you were taking tickets, for example,at the theater,
tearing them,giving back the ragged stubs,
you might take care to touch that palm,
brush your fingertipsalong the life line's crease.
When a man pulls his wheeled suit case too slowly through the airport,
when the car in front of me doesn't signal,
when the clerk at the pharmacy won't say Thank you,
I don't remember they're going to die.
A friend told me she'd been with her aunt.
They'd just had lunch and the waiter,
a young gay man with plum black eyes, joked as he served the coffee,
kissed her aunt's powdered cheek when they left.
Then they walked half a block and her aunt dropped dead on the sidewalk.
How close does the dragon's spume have to come?
How wide does the crackin heaven have to split?
What would people look like if we could see them as they are,
soaked in honey, stung and swollen, reckless,
pinned against time?

By Ellen Bass