Ravens, debt, and Ordinary Mind

Welcome back all of you beautiful people! I’m glad to have you here.

Let’s start today with an inquiry:

“What is ordinary mind? Could it be simply exactly what we're experiencing right now? Could it be that nothing else is needed? Just this experience. Just ordinary mind.” ~ Henry Shukman, head teacher at Mountain Cloud Zen center in Santa Fe, NM.

I’ve been absolutely enamored by the Spring weather up in the Pacific Northwest. It’s been just gorgeous. Yesterday, I witnessed the fleeting appearance of a mama mallard being swallowed up by newly-hatched ducklings - crawling over her as she guided them to the safety of the underbrush across the driveway. My hunch is that the peregrine falcon that’s been patrolling the neighborhood of-late enjoys the taste of duck.

Ravens are incredible creatures. Reports indicate that they have excellent memories and remember people who’ve wronged them. They teach the other ravens around them about the world they inhabit. So, if you’ve crossed one raven, you’ve crossed many ravens. Word to the wise: Be kind to ravens.

I read a report this week that indicated that Disney Cruise Line is going to double it’s fleet by 2030. That millennials - people, like me, who were born in the 1900s, which includes many of you, but not all of you - are more and more making up the old fogies who enjoy bacchanalian adventures on the high seas. Carving a carbon footprint through foreign waters larger than any humans in human history.

In Zen they say “ordinary mind is the way.” The term “the way” has two meanings in the history of buddhism.

1. Firstly, it’s the way, or path, of practice which leads to less suffering and greater well-being for self and others.

2. Second, the way refers to “the way” that all things arise just as they do, just as they are, whereby we cease feeling separate from all things arising.

Thus, “ordinary mind is the way” suggests that our “ordinary, day-to-day, mind” is the liberation that we seek. It’s right at your fingertips; it’s within your sight, if only one can relax into practice, awakening to our true nature here and now.

Without coming off as self-righteous towards people who enjoy cruise lines, although I do feel sad about their environmental impact, I wonder what one is seeking here? What does one seek in a place like Las Vegas? I’ve been neither to Las Vegas, nor on a cruise, but it would seem that the popularity of both are rising.

Studies suggest consumer debt is higher than it’s ever been and that more people than ever are raiding their 401(k)s prematurely. This involves paying a 10% penalty + taxes. The financial advisor in me is curious why this is happening and finds these facts disturbing and heart-wrenching.

By 2026 the interest that the US pays to service it’s debt will hit $1 Trillion dollars… that’s 1,000 Billions to serve an ever-increasing debt (currently sitting at $36 Trillion). The US gets away with this because we’re the world currency and have a powerhouse military. What if we lose those designations? Would we then need to become a little more financially responsible? We did a lot of finger-wagging and condemning of the Greek government all those years ago because they were financially irresponsible. How do you feel about people who tell you to do something - believe in their God, or become vegan, or vote for such and such, etc. - when they do not take their own advice?

Sundays, for many, are a “day of rest.” How often does one actually, rest, though? Or does mindless scrolling and screen time constitute “rest”?

Last Sunday a big Raven found the nest of a house finch. Ravens have a taste for eggs. Despite the dive-bombing finch mama and papa, aunties and uncles, and the Robins teaming up with them, the Raven was just too big, and returned over and over again to the nest to, I suspect, dine on house finch eggs. I sat at my window cheering on the finch/robin gang, but otherwise one must just let Nature take her course.

This morning, a mama house finch had grass clippings in her mouth. She swung by the apple tree today as-if to show me that she was moving on so I could, too. Heading off to build a new nest, somewhere safe from the memory of a Raven who also had a nest to care for nearby.

How does what I say sit with you? As always, I enjoy your thoughts and response.

Much love and gratitude to everyone here.

Warmly,

~Mateo

A poem:

Who Says Words With My Mouth?

All day I think about it, then at night I say it.

Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?

I have no idea.

My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that,

And I intend to end up there.

This drunkenness began in some other tavern.

When I get back around to that place,

I'll be completely sober. Meanwhile,

I'm like a bird from another continent, sitting in this aviary.

The day is coming when I fly off,

But who is it now in my ear who hears my voice?

Who says words with my mouth?

Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul?

I cannot stop asking.

If I could taste one sip of an answer,

I could break out of this prison for drunks.

I didn't come here of my own accord, and I can't leave that way.

Whoever brought me here will have to take me home.

This poetry. I never know what I'm going to say.

I don't plan it.

When I'm outside the saying of it, I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.

We have a huge barrel of wine, but no cups.

That's fine with us. Every morning

We glow and in the evening we glow again.

—Rumi (13th century sufi mystic poet who’s buried in what today we call Turkey and who wrote mostly in Persian)