30 Days Wild (Day 3) Newlands Park

When I'm asked about my favourite park in Glasgow one place is either at or pretty close to the top - Newlands Park. When I tell people this they are generally confused, usually replying where is that? In a city with so many fantastic sprawling parks and only a mile or so from the rightly celebrated Pollok and Queens Park (also Rouken Glen is only a 5 minute drive away) what could Newlands possibly have to offer? I think it's size sets it apart from the other parks - imagine a small green space designed by the Victorians. The scale doesn't negate from its beauty and its size, I'm sure, turns a lot of visitors from other parts of the city away, instead choosing places like Pollok . What you have then is a very beautiful park with a typical range of city park flora and fauna with a much smaller crowd in a much smaller space. You'll see the locals walking their dogs and playing tennis and you can often get a small town feeling especially in the lucid suburbs around the park.

More photographs of the park on my twitter: @michaelobrien22

30 Days Wild (Day 2) May bush

Inspired by @KentWildlife tweet about going out to smell something I did just that. Late Spring and Early summer is full of wonderful scents. Often when I go for a walk I focus on sight, taking in the wonderful views, and perhaps sound, identifying a few bird calls. Smelling is at times more revealing and rewarding. This time of year the scent of the May bush, heady musk, wafts through the air. This is a fine bush wrapped in ivy on the Snuff Mill Bridge.

in that smell...

the weight

of childhood 

30 Days Wild (Day 1) Laburnum

It only seems right we start this month off with this fine tree. Shortly after the famed and justly celebrated cherry blossom have all fallen this magnificent tree comes into bloom. On its yellow crown it carries the end of spring and the coming summer. There are many fine laburnum in and around Glasgow here are a couple I pass quite regularly on Arundel Drive.

underneath the laburnum

deserters await

their execution

(2009 Mainichi Daily News International Section Second Prize)

Buson and the Wife

I wanted to write this short piece to answer some points that came up on twitter the other day. A discussion broke out after I stated one of my favourite Buson haiku is:

the cold and I -  
stepping on  
my late wife’s comb

The main argument against the validity of this piece is anchored by the fact that not only was Buson’s wife still alive at the time of composition, but that she lived another 30 years after. This naturally develops into the argument of authenticity in haiku and how the haijin should write exclusively from experience. Now I’ve butchered the argument down to size here for the sake of brevity but I think the point comes across.

Firstly I kind of agree with this sentiment although I would encourage people to test and look at the limits of this ideology and the other principles of haiku. I’m not going to say what I think Buson was doing is right or wrong what I will say is that this poem hits me like a blow to the head and that to me is very real. That is a direct emotive experience. It feels no more real or nonreal than, for example, Issa’s dew drop poem, invoked by the loss of his daughter:

this dewdrop world

a dewdrop world...

and yet...

Personally I have reconciled certain feelings from direct experiences into others. For instance I feel homesick at least once a week, I’m hardly going to write directly on this experience over and over. But with this sense of longing I can, and do, express it in other ways. Not seeing my Father for six months at a time is sometimes like he has passed away or is sick. I grieve ever so slightly the way I do for people I have actually lost.

As readers we do this all the time. Buson’s ‘wife’ or Issa’s child are two experiences I have felt. And yet they strike me in relation to things I have felt rather than their direct experiences. The loss of a child or a wife is something that I’ve never felt but I have felt loss in other ways and this is how I transliterate this emotion. Would it honestly be that much of a crime for the haijin to do the same?

All translations are my own.

Follow me on twitter

this fleeting body reveals the light


Mabel Royds, Dandelions, 1932

Glasgow Wander (Mount Florida to Newlands Park)

So here's something a little different for this blog. Seen as Spring is hitting its stride it's good to get out and walk. So here's a nice short one I like in Glasgow.
Exit the station onto Battlefield Road. Cross the road and follow Brisbane St all the way down to the White Cart Water. On the particular stretch I've repeatedly seen Kingfishers. Today I saw the resident Goosanders - 2 male. 

Follow the river round till you come to a footbridge. On your right is the Weirs cricket Ground. Cross the footbridge and follow Kintore Road. Go under a railway bridge crossing over Newlands Rd. You'll meet a small green space with a play ground with crossing paths take either onto Monreith Road. Take a right and continue onto Langside Rd then take a left. Go passed the bowling green cross the road and take the first right onto Quadrant Road. Take the first right again on to Carlaverock Rd. At the end of the road you can see Newlands Park. 

Right now the pond has frogspawn. Daffodils are in bloom. Cherry trees are pink. It's a small understated park. Take your time here if you want. Lots of benches and a relaxing atmosphere. 

On the way back take a slightly different route that allows a little more time along the White Cart

In front of the Newlands church a cherry tree blooms. The contrast of pink blossom on sallow sandstone is quite striking. The river rambles on and a short stroll through a tenement street brings you back to Weir's bridge and you can follow the route back to the station

https://goo.gl/gOSqVX

The Inadequacy of Being Nothing

Whilst staying at Throssel Hole recently a period of working meditation afforded me this deep feeling of inadequacy or uselessness. I felt completely helpless. I bit down on the accompanying anxiety and finished off my dish drying and went to meditate in the ceremony hall. On the cushion my heart was ripped open - this deep cold metallic feeling of inadequacy glimmering in moldy bronze. I sat and I sat and watched attentively.

Anyone who has meditated for any length of time knows that not all meditation experiences are happy or unhappy. A lot of the time they are uneventful and boring. Sometimes we get little clues. The few insights I’ve experienced like this have given me clues into how I should operate as a better human in society. In that, me feeling useless deep down covered up with things and the accompanying anxiety, is not going to be very useful in my life or anyone’s around me. Right now I feel like I'm talking about some kinda heart break and it does feel like that with these experiences sometimes.

I feel this state of inadequacy has been some kind of negative beacon that’s coursed me to react, generally overreact in certain situations. I feel this deep sense of uselessness has probably caused a lot of negative situations in my life. But what really is this insight? A lot of people practice to receive certain states of enlightenment and awakening. I have little interest or direct training in such matters but they seem to me quite useless and through experience of these states or Jhāna ultimately see them as empty and something to work through. Although Zen does have the ten bulls or ox herding pictures, generally from my experience and the teachers and monks I have encountered discourage dwelling on such matters. Buddhism is ultimately not a contemplative philosophy it is a means of or call to action. Any experiences one has through practice should be instantly related to one’s day to day life - referencing them as points of validation to the depths of practice seems not only useless but possibly destructive to the practice. We must use any insights or understandings off our cushions. Someone once asked me how deep I had gotten with my practice. I replied: I once helped an old lady across the road and didn’t think the act either good or bad till I got home later that day.

So while I could get carried away by this insight into the sense of inadequacy I could look at what is really going on here. Firstly who is feeling the inadequacy? Secondly what is inadequacy? Point me towards these things. When I stop for a moment after being carried away by this I see I can’t really point at these things. The best way, for me, is to note these things and move beyond them and get back to my cushion.

late winter 
the green fractures
of snowy hills

_-_-_

loneliness 
in this park
the emptiness of birds

_-_-_

on the prayer tree
tying your favourite colour
another year alone