New Zealand Zen #2

 

"I asked the leaf whether it was frightened because it was autumn and the other leaves were falling. The leaf told me "No. During the whole spring and summer I was completely alive. I worked hard to help nourish the tree, and now much of me is in the tree. I am not limited by this form. I am also the whole tree, and when I go back to the soil, I will continue to nourish the tree. So I don't worry at all. As I leave this branch and float to the ground, I will wave to the tree and tell her, "I will see you again very soon." That day there was a wind blowing and, after a while, I saw the leaf leave the branch and float down to the soil, dancing joyfully, because as i floated it saw itself already there in the tree. It was so happy. I bowed my head, knowing that I have a lot to learn from that leaf."

- Thich Nhat Hanh (1926 - 2022)
Peace Is Every Step

Note. I saw these little Zen leaves at Queenstown Gardens in New Zealand. Of course, since New Zealand is in the southern hemisphere, our (i.e., northern VA's) spring is its autumn, we were treated to a spectacle of color and recently fallen leaves, not just at Queenstown, but throughout our stay on the southern island. The mostly 50/60ish degree weather was also a welcome respite from the looming 80/90ish weather we typically get where we live (and are now experiencing after we got back from our trip). Here are a few more leaves that caught my attention in Queenstown.

New Zealand Zen #1

"In a forest of a hundred thousand trees,
no two leaves are alike.
And no two journeys along
the same path are alike."

- Paulo Coelho (1947 - )
Aleph

Note. Standing on Milford Sound's shore with one's proverbial dropped-jaw trying desperately to simply absorb the magnificence, it is hard - at first - to "see" anything other than the Wagnerian Gestalt. The mysterious peaks (Mitre, Elephant, and Lion), the always dramatic sky and clouds, and the light - that glorious effervescent light! - immediately and unrelentingly grab hold of your attention. But, as a physical, aesthetic, even spiritual experience, the Milford Sound offers far more for one's eye (and "I" and soul) to enjoy. Among those other experiences is the bounty to be found along a short - but infinitely rewarding - trail that weaves its way through the main part of the sound, including views of some abstract Zen-like foliage (as evidenced by the above image).

Milford Sound

"On 7 March 1851 Captain John Lort stokes sailed the wooden paddle-steamer HMS Acheron into Milford Sound on the last leg of his marathon survey of the West Coast Sounds. 'Milford Sound' wrote George Hansard in his journal, 'is the most remarkable harbour yet visited by the Acheron in New Zealand. [Here] the Acheron's masts dwindled into nothing beneath the towering cliffs. As the ship came abreast of the first cataract [Stirling Falls] the brilliant sunbeams refracted in the spray, which rose in clouds from its base, showed all the rainbow's prismatic colours.' It was a 'most lovely day, warm and sunlit' and the Acheron 'anchored abreast a second waterfall, 200 feet high, [the Bowen Falls] which seemed to burst from a large reservoir with an incessant roar. [A roar] which was heard with additional solemnity during the stillness of the night.'"

- John Hall-Jones (1927 - 2015)
Milford Sound

Note. It is easy to understand why The Lord of the Rings movies were filmed in New Zealand, since it is otherwordly. Its "otherworldliness" is anchored firmly in a magical place called Milford Sound, a fiord in the south west of New Zealand's South Island. It is rare for me to continually go "Wow!" while looking at one of my own images, not because of the composition or processing (neither of which is particularly special, since anyone with a decent camera could have easily captured the scene you see at the top of this post), but simply because of the Wagnerian-scale magnificence - the sheer spectacle - of the dance of light and form. To be sure, Hawaii, Scotland, and Iceland (to name but a few places my family and I have been privileged to travel to) have some magical places, but - my Gosh - Milford Sound is truly one of the most phantasmagoric landscapes/seascapes my eyes have ever gazed upon!

An important part of the story behind this image is that it came about purely by chance. We actually visited Milford Sound twice. The first time was just as "majestic" as what you see above, but the light was flat and uninteresting (heck, it was a mid-day brilliant "anathema blue," well, anathema to most photographers). I have images from that first visit, but none that are worth sharing. The second visit, which resulted in what you see above, came about only because the fly-over my wife had scheduled for us to take over fjords well north of Milford was canceled at the last moment for mechanical reasons. However, the company she booked our flight with (Southern Alps Air - highly recommended) offered the option of joining a different tourist group whose plans included flying to Milford. This option gave us an opportunity to stay and prowl around Milford Sound for over two hours while the rest of the group went on a boat cruise. Thus, it was only because we (happily) agreed to an impromptu change in plans that we got to see Milford Sound again, and experience its magical sunset light! 

Lake Te Anau

"This small lake was of most value as a neighbor in the intervals of a gentle rain-storm in August, when, both air and water being perfectly still, but the sky overcast, mid-afternoon had all the serenity of evening, and the wood thrush sang around, and was heard from shore to shore. A lake like this is never smoother than at such a time; and the clear portion of the air above it being, shallow and darkened by clouds, the water, full of light and reflections, becomes a lower heaven itself so much the more important. From a hilltop near by, where the wood had been recently cut off, there was a pleasing vista southward across the pond, through a wide indentation in the hills which form the shore there, where their opposite sides sloping toward each other suggested a stream flowing out in that direction through a wooded valley, but stream there was none. That way I looked between and over the near green hills to some distant and higher ones in the horizon, tinged with blue. Indeed, by standing on tiptoe I could catch a glimpse of some of the peaks of the still bluer and more distant mountain ranges in the northwest, those true-blue coins from heaven’s own mint, and also of some portion of the village. But in other directions, even from this point, I could not see over or beyond the woods which surrounded me."

- Henry David Thoreau (1817 - 1862)
Walden

Note. While Lake Te Anau in New Zealand - a glimpse of which appears in the image above - is considerably larger than Thoreau's Walden pond (133 vs. 0.1 sq. miles, respectively), it inspires the same soothing stillness and serenity. This (or, more precisely, an Airbnb in the town of Te Anau) was our first stop in New Zealand, and anchored the exploration of parts of Fiordland National Park during the first part of our stay in this beautiful country. The photo itself was taken a few hours after sunrise near the trailhead for Kepler Track, a popular (albeit long and challenging) trail a few minutes away from the center of town. My younger son (Josh, a photographer extraordinaire) and I spent a blissful hour or two communing with - and reveling in - lake Te Anau's tranquil beauty. 

An Escherian Welcome to New Zealand

"It once happened to me on one of my solitary strolls through the woods of Baarn that I suddenly stood still, frozen, caught by a frightening, unreal, and at the same time blissful feeling of standing face to face with the inexplicable. The tree there, before me, was in itself, as an object, as a part of the woods, maybe not exceedingly remarkable, but all of a sudden the distance, the space between it and myself puzzled me. We don’t know space. We don’t see it, we don’t hear it, we don’t feel it. We are in the middle of it, are part of it, but we do not know the slightest thing about it. I might have known the distance between that tree and me, but when I say 'three meters,' the number doesn’t reveal anything of the mystery. I could only see boundaries, demarcations. I could not see space itself. . . . Space remains unfathomable, a miracle."

- M. C. Escher (1898 - 1972)
Quoted in Becoming Escher, by Joris Escher

Note. This juxtaposition of image(s) and text could not be more perfect. The main image is of a part of the ceiling of the international terminal of Auckland, New Zealand's airport, through which my wife and I were strolling after arriving in New Zealand a few weeks ago (having just arrived and anticipating a much-much-needed respite from work and front-page politics). While I'd like to believe the ceiling would have caught my attention in any case (given my penchant for abstraction), my eye was seized preternaturally strongly because (when not napping), most of the 15+ hours flight time from Washington, D.C. was devoted to reading a wonderful new biography of one of my favorite artists, M.C. Escher. What an unexpectedly Escherian welcome to a country of wonders, images of which I will be soon sharing as time permits😊

Creative Energy

"The psyche of the individual is

commensurate with the totality of creative energy.
This requires a most radical revision of Western psychology."

- Stanislav Grof (1931 - )

Unbroken Boundaries

"The notion of a separate organism is clearly an abstraction, as is also its boundary. Underlying all this is unbroken wholeness even though our civilization has developed in such a way as to strongly emphasize the separation into parts.

...

There is a universal flux that cannot be defined explicitly but which can be known only implicitly, as indicated by the explicitly definable forms and shapes, some stable and some unstable, that can be abstracted from the universal flux.

...

In this flow, mind and matter
are not separate substances.
Rather, they are different aspects
of one whole and unbroken movement."

 - David Bohm (1917 - 1992)

Note. These are all reflections off of cars I took with my iPhone this morning to help break the monotony of sitting in a Nissan dealership waiting for my car to get serviced. As I've repeatedly noted on this blog, images - heck, veritable universes - are everywhere 😊

Earthly Mists

"The spirit-world around this world of sense
Floats like an atmosphere, and everywhere
Wafts through these earthly mists and vapors dense
A vital breath of more ethereal air."

- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807 - 1882)

The Gift of Harmony

"The woods, the vines, the very stones, were at one with the brightness of the sun and the unblemished sky, and even when the sky grew overcast, the multitude of leaves, as in a sudden change of tone, the earth of the roads, the roofs of the town, seemed as though caught up in the unity of a brand-new world. And all that Jean was feeling seemed without effort to chime with the surrounding oneness, and he was conscious of the perfect joy which is the gift of harmony."

- Marcel Proust (1987 - 1922)
Jean Santeuil

Formless

"The Chán tradition ascribes the origins of Chán in India to the Flower Sermon, the earliest source for which comes from the 14th century. It is said that Gautama Buddha gathered his disciples one day for a Dharma talk. When they gathered together, The Buddha was completely silent and some speculated that perhaps The Buddha was tired or ill. The Buddha silently held up and twirled a flower and his eyes twinkled; several of his disciples tried to interpret what this meant, though none of them were correct. One of The Buddha's disciples, Mahākāśyapa, silently gazed at the flower and broke into a broad smile. The Buddha then acknowledged Mahākāśyapa's insight by saying the following:

I possess the true Dharma eye,
the marvelous mind of Nirvāṇa,
the true form of the formless,
the subtle Dharma gate that does not
rest on words or letters but is a special
transmission outside of the scriptures.
This I entrust to Mahākāśyapa."

- The Flower Sermon
Quoted from the Chinese Buddhist Encyclopedia

Intertwined and Intermingling Vibrations

"I have the joy of being able to tell you that, though deaf and blind, I spent a glorious hour last night listening over the radio to Beethoven’s 'Ninth Symphony.' I do not mean to say that I 'heard' the music in the sense that other people heard it; and I do not know whether I can make you understand how it was possible for me to derive pleasure from the symphony. It was a great surprise to myself. I had been reading in my magazine for the blind of the happiness that the radio was bringing to the sightless everywhere. I was delighted to know that the blind had gained a new source of enjoyment; but I did not dream that I could have any part in their joy. Last night, when the family was listening to your wonderful rendering of the immortal symphony someone suggested that I put my hand on the receiver and see if I could get any of the vibrations. He unscrewed the cap, and I lightly touched the sensitive diaphragm. What was my amazement to discover that I could feel, not only the vibrations, but also the impassioned rhythm, the throb and the urge of the music! The intertwined and intermingling vibrations from different instruments enchanted me. I could actually distinguish the cornets, the roll of the drums, deep-toned violas and violins singing in exquisite unison. How the lovely speech of the violins flowed and plowed over the deepest tones of the other instruments! When the human voice leaped up trilling from the surge of harmony, I recognized them instantly as voices. I felt the chorus grow more exultant, more ecstatic, upcurving swift and flame-like, until my heart almost stood still. The women’s voices seemed an embodiment of all the angelic voices rushing in a harmonious flood of beautiful and inspiring sound. The great chorus throbbed against my fingers with poignant pause and flow. Then all the instruments and voices together burst forth—an ocean of heavenly vibration—and died away like winds when the atom is spent, ending in a delicate shower of sweet notes.

Of course, this was not 'hearing' but I do know that the tones and harmonies conveyed to me moods of great beauty and majesty. I also sensed, or thought I did, the tender sounds of nature that sing into my hand—swaying reeds and winds and the murmur of streams. I have never been so enraptured before by a multitude of tone-vibrations.

As I listened, with darkness and melody, shadow and sound filling all the room, I could not help remembering that the great composer who poured forth such a flood of sweetness into the world was deaf like myself. I marveled at the power of his quenchless spirit by which out of his pain he wrought such joy for others—and there I sat, feeling with my hand the magnificent symphony which broke like a sea upon the silent shores of his soul and mine."

-  Helen Keller (1880 - 1968)
A letter by Helen Keller to the New York Symphony Orchestra,
 printed in The Auricle, Vol. II, No. 6, March 1924

The Morning of Creation

"But now and then comes an hour when the silence is all but absolute, and listening to it one slips out of time. Such a silence is not a mere negation of sound. It is like a new element, and the world is suspended there, and I in it...

...

To walk out through the top of a cloud is good. Once or twice I have had the luck to stand on a tip of ground and see a pearled and lustrous plain stretch out to the horizons. Far off, another peak lifts like a small island from the smother. It is like the morning of creation. Once on Lochnagar, we had watched the dawn light strike the Cairngorms, like the blue bloom on plums. Each scarp and gully was translucent, no smallest detail blurred. A pure, clear sun poured into each recess. But looking south, we caught our breath. For the world had vanished. There was nothing but an immense stretch of hummocked snow. Or was it sea? It gleamed, and was the high hills as the sea washes rock.

...

Yet often the mountain gives itself most completely when I have no destination, when I reach nowhere in particular, but have gone out merely to be with the mountain as one visits a friend with no intention but to be with him.

...

I have walked out of the body and into the mountain."

- Nan Shepherd (1893 - 1981)
The Living Mountain

Madness is a Special Form of the Spirit

"Be silent and listen: have you recognized your madness and do you admit it? Have you noticed that all your foundations are completely mired in madness? Do you not want to recognize your madness and welcome it in a friendly manner? You wanted to accept everything. So accept madness too. Let the light of your madness shine, and it will suddenly dawn on you. Madness is not to be despised and not to be feared, but instead you should give it life...If you want to find paths, you should also not spurn madness, since it makes up such a great part of your nature...Be glad that you can recognize it, for you will thus avoid becoming its victim. Madness is a special form of the spirit and clings to all teachings and philosophies, but even more to daily life, since life itself is full of craziness and at bottom utterly illogical. Man strives toward reason only so that he can make rules for himself. Life itself has no rules. That is its mystery and its unknown law. What you call knowledge is an attempt to impose something comprehensible on life."

- C. G. Jung (1875-1961)
The Red Book: A Reader's Edition

Memory

"The timeless in you is aware of life's timelessness.
And knows that yesterday is but
today's memory and tomorrow
is today's dream."

- Kahlil Gibran (1883 - 1931)

The Prophet

Copse of Birch

"When I can go just where I want to go,
There is a copse of birch trees that I know;
And, as in Eden Adam walked with God,
When in that quiet aisle my feet have trod
I have found peace among the silver trees,
Known comfort in the cool kiss of the breeze
Heard music in its whisper, and have known
Most certainly that I was not alone!"

- Andrew M. Greeley (1928 - 2013)

Hidden Reality

"'It is a mystery to me,' he told me, 'why we have quantum mechanics when there is only one state of the universe.' In other words, why should there be probabilities of alternative conditions of our universes when we inhabit only one condition? And do those other potential conditions actually exist in other universes somewhere?

...

Some people believe that there is no distinction between the spiritual and physical universes, no distinction between the inner and the outer, between the subjective and the objective, between the miraculous and the rational. I need such distinctions to make sense of my spiritual and scientific lives. For me, there is room for both a spiritual universe and a physical universe, just as there is room for both religion and science. Each universe has its own power. Each has its own beauty, and mystery.

...

Since Foucault, more and more of what we know about the universe is undetected and undetectable by our bodies. What we see with our eyes, what we hear with our ears, what we feel with our fingertips, is only a tiny sliver of reality. Little by little, using artificial devices, we have uncovered a hidden reality. It is often a reality that violates common sense. It is often a reality strange to our bodies. It is a reality that forces us to re-examine our most basic concepts of how the world works. And it is a reality that discounts the present moment and our immediate experience of the world."

- Alan Lightman (1948 - )
The Accidental Universe

Withered Leaves

"If in our withered leaves you see

Hint of your own mortality:—

Think how, when they have turned to earth,

New loveliness from their rich worth

Shall spring to greet the light; then see

Death as the keeper of eternity,

And dying Life’s perpetual re-birth !"

- Poem attributed to the initials W.L. (Epigraph, Chapter 6)
Arthur E. Shipley, Life: A Book for Elementary Students

Mind and Matter

"As a physicist who has devoted his whole life to rational science, to the study of matter, I think I can safely claim to be above any suspicion of irrational exuberance. Having said that, I would like to observe that my research on the atom has shown me that there is no such thing as matter in itself. What we perceive as matter is merely the manifestation of a force that causes the subatomic particles to oscillate and holds them together in the tiniest solar system of the universe. Since there is in the whole universe neither an intelligent force nor an eternal force (mankind, for all its yearnings, has yet to succeed in inventing a perpetual motion machine), we must assume that this force that is active within the atom comes from a conscious and intelligent mind. That mind is the ultimate source of matter."

- Max Planck (1858 - 1947)

Stillness

  

"When I am liberated by silence,
when I am no longer involved in the measurement
of life, but in the living of it,
I can discover a form of prayer in which
there is effectively, no distraction.
My whole life becomes a prayer.
My whole silence is full of prayer.
The world of silence in which I am immersed
contributes to my prayer."

- Thomas Merton (1915 - 1968)

Qualitative Forms

"We have written the equations of water flow. From experiment, we find a set of concepts and approximations to use to discuss the solution - vortex streets, turbulent wakes, boundary layers. When we have similar equations in a less familiar situation, and one for which we cannot yet experiment, we try to solve the equations in a primitive, halting, and confused way to try to determine what new qualitative features may come out, or what new qualitative forms are a consequence of the equations. Our equations for the sun, for example, as a ball of hydrogen gas, describe a sun without sunspots, without the rice-grain structure of the surface, without prominences, without coronas. Yet, all of these are really in the equations; we just haven't found the way to get them out.

...

The next great era of awakening of human intellect may well produce a method of understanding the qualitative content of equations. Today we cannot. Today we cannot see that the water flow equations contain such things as the barber pole structure of turbulence that one sees between rotating cylinders. Today we cannot see whether Schrodinger's equation contains frogs, musical composers, or morality - or whether it does not.

...

If water - which is nothing but these little blobs, mile upon mile of the same thing over the earth - can form waves and foam, and make rushing noises and strange patterns as it runs over cement; if all of this, all the life of a stream of water, can be nothing but a pile of atoms, how much more is possible?"

- Richard Feynman (1918 - 1988)

Patience

"Nature does not hurry,
yet everything is accomplished"

- Lao Tzu (6th century – 4th century BCE)

Earth's Dreaming

"In the beginning was the dream...

In the eternal night where no dawn broke,
the dream deepened.
Before anything ever was,
it had to be dreamed.

...

If we take Nature as the great artist, then all presences in the world have emerged from her mind and imagination. We are children of the earth's dreaming. It's almost as if Nature is in dream and we are her children who have broken through the dawn into time and place. Fashioned in the dreaming of the clay, we are always somehow haunted by that; we are unable ever finally to decide what is dream and what is reality. Each day we live in what we call reality, yet life seems to resemble a dream. We rush through our days in such stress and intensity, as if we were here to stay and the serious project of the world depended on us. We worry and grow anxious - we magnify trivia until they become important enough to control our lives. Yet all the time, we have forgotten that we are but temporary sojourners on the surface of a strange planet spinning slowly in the infinite night of the cosmos.

...

There is no definitive dividing line
between reality and dream.
What we consider real is often
precariously dream-like.
Our grip on reality is tenuous..."

- John O'Donohue (1956 - 2008)
Eternal Echoes: Celtic Reflections on Our Yearning to Belong

Subtle and Evanescent

"Greatness' exists in the inconspicuous and overlooked details. Wabi-sabi represents the exact opposite of the Western ideal of great beauty as something monumental, spectacular, and enduring. Wabi-sabi is not found in nature at moments of bloom and lushness, but at moments of inception or subsiding. Wabi-sabi is not about gorgeous flowers, majestic trees, or bold landscapes. Wabi-sabi is about the minor and the hidden, the tentative and the ephemeral: things so subtle and evanescent they are invisible to vulgar eyes."

- Leonard Koren (1948 - )
Wabi-Sabi: for Artists, Designers, Poets & Philosophers

Place of Purification

"Solitude is the place of purification."

- Martin Buber (1878 - 1965)

"In spite of language, in spite of intelligence and intuition and sympathy, one can never really communicate anything to anybody. The essential substance of every thought and feeling remains incommunicable, locked up in the impenetrable strong-room of the individual soul and body. Our life is a sentence of perpetual solitary confinement."

- Aldous Huxley (1894 - 1963)

"The mind is sharper and keener in seclusion and uninterrupted solitude. No big laboratory is needed in which to think. Originality thrives in seclusion free of outside influences beating upon us to cripple the creative mind. Be alone, that is the secret of invention; be alone, that is when ideas are born. That is why many of the earthly miracles have had their genesis in humble surroundings."

- Nikola Tesla (1856 - 1943)

The Visible Invisible

"We are all constantly in the midst of light. We are surrounded, bathed, and nourished by it. This miracle we call light can transform. It can teach, reveal, evoke, and heal. It speaks in many voices. We tend to see light as something that makes form visible, but light reveals much more. It reveals us.

...

Light makes visible the invisible. It can show us love where there seems to be only a rotting log or a solitary rock perched on a ledge. Sometimes the subject is illuminated by light, sometimes the subject is illumination itself. Then the subject itself glows; there are no shadows.

...

Light has the ability to reveal the many layers, the myriad faces contained in each form. Most often, we tend to see just the surface of a subject. We name it, identify it, and forget about it. And we stop seeing. Yet when the light changes, the subject changes, and what the subject has to show us changes.

...

If we are patient, letting go of thoughts and letting the mind settle down, then the hidden faces rise to the surface, and subtlety and richness return. A shift takes place, resonance appears. This allows for real intimacy with the subject.

...

The boulder that was once very soft under diffuse lighting now becomes hard and heavier looking. When the subject reflects the light, the reflections add another dimension; patterns begin to appear. Before sunrise the world is essentially black and white ... Things are almost translucent. Unless we are really 'seeing' and not just looking, it is easy to miss the richness of these subtleties.

- John Daido Loori (1931 - 2009)
Light