Hazy Winter Moon

Posted Wednesday, March 1st, 2017 @ 11:47 am by Kathryn
Categories: Arts, Buddhism, Journal, Nature

A small piece called Hazy Winter Moon, it’s 6″ x 6″ canvas panel with acrylic.

hazy winter moon / 6" x 6" stretched canvas with acrylic

“Hazy Winter Moon” / 6″ x 6″ stretched canvas with acrylic

February Winter Break

Posted Thursday, February 23rd, 2017 @ 9:53 am by Kathryn
Categories: Journal, Motherhood, Nature

Some years, our family will “go to snow.” Last year there was none, so I took Claire to Los Angeles to look at dinosaurs. This year, despite there being plenty of snow, we didn’t get coordinated enough to go. We don’t ski, and there is only so much sledding one kid and two parents can enjoy. This has made for a quieter, somewhat duller break. Yesterday, Claire and I took a three mile walk in our neighborhood. She was very resistant at first, but after awhile and my gentle insistence, we discovered the joy of being outside. Her eye caught leaf impressions in a concrete sidewalk. We visited a small pond near our house. We played a game where she ran around and my task was to try to get a picture of her. We talked about friendships, and spiritual beliefs, and how to handle frustration. And we got silly. It was good medicine.

turtle pond in winter
sidewalk impressions
claire february 2017
claire february 2017

Reflections on Sesshin

Posted Monday, February 20th, 2017 @ 12:41 pm by Kathryn
Categories: Aenigmas (My Poems), Buddhism, Journal, Meditation, Spirit

Almost six years ago I sat my first sesshin at Hazy Moon Zen Center. I did not return, for many reasons and rationalizations. But when my teacher put a winter weekend sesshin on the calendar, I committed to come. It was wonderful sitting with so many people and creating community. These are some small reflections on my experience. A huge rainstorm visited LA, unusual and impressive for California, and a gesture from nature that we might be worthy of deliverance from drought.

Practice has become a priority. Six years will not pass before I sit sesshin again.

Rain strikes the city
like a kyosaku startling
dusty streets awake.

The rain converses
with the windows
while water gushing
through gutters holds
a debate with the sidewalk.

Nearly six whole years past
the rooster still crows at dawn
in downtown L.A.

I met my match
outwaited her impatience
wrestled her on the mat
until she cried
not my way, the Way
then bowed
and walked into the day.