Altar unfolding

In the autumn of 2013 I posted this post about alters. Since then my physical sitting place has changed, the altar of one's life continues to unfold and the home to which all this points remains immanent and transcendent.

At the end of one of my bookshelves. The soft (cashmere) toy was a gift; see this post to see who made it. The little painted stone a gift from the same person. The little red book is plain and blank inside. It came from a Christmas cracker. I (laughingly) think of it as a little book of emptiness. Note the confetti angels too. 

My formal sitting place. I love the way this room is so calm and is used for meditation, clothes drying and spare bedroom. The picture on the wall is of a landscape with a bare tree in the foreground and the moon and a star in a twilight sky. To me it points to home. 

This Buddha is made from cement and was probably intended to sit in the garden. He was a gift from my mother. One or two of his toes were a bit damaged so I repaired them before spraying him gold. The frog reminds me to sit like him - bright and wide awareness. Thanks to Shunryu Suzuki for that.

But let's not forget the altar is not just a set up of forms, it's the interplay of the forms of life and the intent behind our actions. The merit of this post is offered to the (physically) homeless person I saw sleeping by the fire escape of my ex employer's office on the morning of my resignation.

  

DC

I remember driving to work the morning after the first night with DC. I felt great and thought to myself 'it feels like I'll feel great forever even though I know I won't'. We were never crazy in love but it felt right from the start. There were, as ever in life, complications but somehow we started to become a couple and the weeks grew into months and the months into years. Now in our twenty fourth year together I love him more than ever. He has been and remains one of the most influential people in my life and I know that his wisdom and kind heart spread a light in the world that touches many. We've had our difficulties and life continues to throw up challenges but his love continues to guide me. Thank you for being you my love, may we continue our journey growing old together sailing both outward and homeward and (sometimes) knowing we are home.

Spring

It's spring and all around life is starting to burst out. From the kitchen window the cherry blossom is poetic and to the distance is a haze of green and copper chocolate as the leaves open on the trees. It's gently beautiful and laced with exquisite agony. I'm tired and I want to go home (to the source).

The karma that I am is struggling with itself; myself. It comes from various angles and there is little capacity for self forgiveness.

Yet the water doesn't wet the glass, the mirror is not coloured by what is reflected. What is reflected colours only itself. I'm tired and I want to go home.

And yet there are people like this in the world.