Words and Images from Practice Period

Photo by Joost Bakker    Loon Lake 2014

Photo by Joost Bakker    Loon Lake 2014

Our practice period this year was rich in expressions of what our shuso, Kanshin Ruth Ozeki called Dogen’s Path of Creative Enlightenment. Practice/realization/expression—remember! Many of us shared our expressions at the zendo in the Sunday afternoon and Wednesday evening classes, at our practice period closing circle, and in our everyday practice in our work and family lives. Warm bows of gratitude to Ruth, our inspiring shuso, and to everyone who participated so whole-heartedly.

Here are some offerings from participants:

Conversations with Dogen

by Rowan Percy, Salt Spring Island


Just now, all buddhas sit serenely at ease in receptive samadhi…

 just now

illumined leaves

before they fall

from the branch                                  Oct 9, 2014


practice within realization occurs at the moment of practice

 walking up the road

leaves  bright in dying

clouds and ripe apples

turn the great earth                            Oct 10, 2014


flowers of emptiness were made to bloom

 the path of the moon

a silver swath

sweeping the sea                                Oct 14, 2014 


…do not call winter the beginning of spring, nor summer the end of spring 

in the course of my life

i thought one thing led

to another, now i find

past and future in the folds

of my skin                                            Oct 15, 2014


after listening to Kate’s Zen poetry talk (Mtn. Rain), given Oct 10, 2014

in a cedar house

rain on the roof

a woodpecker raps out

a generous peace


cries of people

caught in storms

of war and wind


in stillness

hear their heartbeat                                       Oct 16, 2014


take up emptiness and wash emptiness, take up emptiness and wash body and mind

wash the river

wash the sky

blue wetness

moistens the marrow

of the dragon’s bone                                       Oct 20, 2014


…establishing an area of practice, all worlds of phenomena are established.

fir needles cover valleys

incense pierces clouds

red-legged frog leaps                                     Oct 24, 2014


…to hear with the ear is an everyday matter, but to hear with the eye is not always so…. Just see large and small buddhas as valley sounds and mountain colours…

the mountain’s fall

shelters a whisper of cloud

tock of raven tongues

catch across the valley skies

a kingfisher’s cry reaches day and night                    Nov 1, 2014


the old buddha’s words seemed

simple enough   now they confound me

which way to turn

the clock ticks

just this breath                                                            Nov 4, 2014

Dogen quotes from Treasury of the True Dharma Eye, Kaz Tanahashi, Shambhala.

Four haiku

by Karen Shklanka


driving too fast

wheels make a deep puddle sound

delight slows me down! 


gutters fill with leaves

windshield wipers direct Bach

trucks tsunami past


foot hovers the brake

plaid jacket-wearing dog crosses

tail high, and waving


dog’s eyes and ears speak

pat me, feed me, love

she is always clear


Poems by Ruth Ritchey, Vancouver and Sunshine Coast

Three Haiku

The start of winter

from dry orange to night sky ice-

sandals packed away


Lone spruce - long railway

ties rust in deep flood waters

nest in boxcar


Bamboo bending low

strong gale winds sound the tall reeds - 

lonely winter song



"...and vowed 

always to be open to it - "    (Gary Snyder, I Saw Myself)


the movement of clouds

crossing city lights 

their bellies red green

as the urban sprawl dictates

the colour of the air

                              we breath

this "progress" - but why

does it make me choke?

as did the jar left unnoticed

far from sight and mind,

too full to notice

then so empty -  now caring

to look deeper and realize

white mayonnaise turned yellow,

because there was more

to draw on - 

                               newspapers, television, radio,

such drama to drown out bad smells.   


Saltwater Cows

Saltwater cows breath the ocean 

air into their boxy black 

nostrils steaming the autumn chill.

Grazing slopes to the Skookumchuck,

too familiar these beasts roam

a forgotten rain forest

of twisted deep roots 

that nourish this earth

under heavy hoof.

I see you as sacred

but I do not know you well 

your large soft eyes

to stare into the emptiness

                                                of this day.

Grey skies fall,

soaking your thick firm bodies

steaming tall grass outcrops.

You - branded to this earth,

rotating through sun shade blankets,

the cycle of dawn endlessly growing from darkness.


Impressing a soft existence,

finding grace on the backs

of saltwater cows.

Photo by Ruth Ritchey    Saltwater Cows

Photo by Ruth Ritchey    Saltwater Cows

Poems by Kate McCandless

Long accustomed to groping for the elephant…

Dogen Zenji


I’m a blind woman

grasping at the elephant’s tail

insisting an elephant is a being

that is thin, tough and ropy

until a big load of elephant shit

drops at my feet and I wake up—


This is the rear end of something big


I feel my way around

the tree-trunk legs

the wall-like side

the elephant reaches around

touches me with the so sensitive

tip of its trunk


I hold still and let it explore

my face with the delicacy

of fingers reading Braille

then I reach with both hands

open to touch back



Mist rises over Loon Lake
alight in morning sun
two figures walk slowly
on the dock—stop and bow

She saw this
and told me—
eyes shining

Photo by Joost Bakker     Loon Lake 2014

Photo by Joost Bakker     Loon Lake 2014