The Deliberate Oaks

Reading “The Deliberate Oaks” from the New York Times Op-Ed page (November, 1968) – “The oaks are deliberate trees, slow to leaf out in the spring, slow of growth, slow to color in the fall, and even reluctant to shed their outworn leaves which sometimes cling to the branches until new leaves burst from the buds in the spring.” Reading this, I’m reminded how much it bugged me as I tossed sticks for proud male poodle, Daiquiri, in Central Park, oak leaves clung to the branches all through winter. Be gone! I commanded, Away with you! This is not as I expect. This is not how it should be.

  A lot of things bugged me.  Expectations, anticipations – living life in terms of what I wanted, how I wanted things to be. Expecting others to behave in a certain way. It got me into a lot of trouble – including trouble with my own mindfulness. Tensions – you bet!

  It’s taken a long time to release the ego from these desires of expectation – and perhaps some still linger like the oak leaves – but Buddhist contemplation in the last ten years or so (and a lot of other conciliatory teachings resonating with the practice of the Buddha’s teachings) has helped to disperse these debilitating desires. “Oh, Lord of my own ego, you do not exist, you are pure illusion. The earth is my witness.”

  The freedom to be – now – to perceive – to know that we are all caused to live by the great life-force of the universe. Yet still the leaves cling to the oak trees – and to California sycamores – “challenging the rush of time.” How precious to be free enough to participate fully in the rush of time!

“Your head is right where it should be, stop turning to the outside.” Lin Chi, 2005 Zen Calendar.

From Chapter 5, “The Parable of the Herbs” – the Lotus Sutra:

To give peace to all creatures I appear in the world,
and for the hosts of the living
preach the Law pure as sweet dew,
the one and only Law of emancipation and nirvana.
With one transcendent voice I proclaim this meaning,
constantly taking the Great-vehicle as my subject.
I look upon all everywhere with equal eyes,
without distinction of persons, or mind of love or hate.
I have no predilections nor limitations or partiality;
ever to all I preach the Law equally. . .