last day of harvest at the cloud farm by curious3d

My stories are Haikus, not to the sound of falling snow or mountain brooks, nor the three lines of the Eastern Tradition. Spoken in song, written to the open road and the city, they sprawl across the landscape of America in a vision of speed and light across the highways of our dreams.

I was always interested in the principles of meditation through the writings of authors like Hesse, Huxley, Kerouac and the Beat Poets.  In the early 70s, I traveled across the country with nothing but a backpack and a few dollars in my pocket, hopping boxcars and hitchhiking wherever the road or the rails would take me.

Without association to a Buddhist sect, I’m at a loss what to call my states of Satori. Zen? Buddhism? Mindfulness? These are merely labels.

This intuitive enlightenment is the Buddha nature in all of us. We see it in the baseball pitcher who dusts his shoe with his glove then sends a beautiful curve ball across the plate; the worker who scrubs the floor while humming in contentment; the taxi driver, who cuts through impossible traffic and tells his story without missing a turn, smiling and tooting his horn.

I attempt here to put into words what it has taken me a lifetime of trial and error to achieve, sharing this unique insight with those who walk the same path. I know nothing of tradition or sacred texts. I just happily meditate my way through life.

Pablo Cuzco

18 responses

Please leave a reply.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s