Taming the Bull - Part V

5.Taming the Bull

The whip and rope are necessary,
Else he might stray off down some dusty road.
Being well trained, he becomes naturally gentle.
Then, unfettered, he obeys his master.

When one thought arises,
another thought follows.
When the first thought springs from enlightenment,
all subsequent thoughts are true.
Through delusion, one makes everything untrue.
Delusion is not caused by objectivity;
it is the result of subjectivity.
Hold the nose-ring tight
and do not allow even a doubt.


6. Riding the Bull Home

Mounting the bull, slowly I return homeward.
The voice of my flute intones through the evening.
Measuring with hand-beats the pulsating harmony,
I direct the endless rhythm.
Whoever hears this melody will join me.

This struggle is over;
gain and loss are assimilated.
I sing the song of the village woodsman,
and play the tunes of the children.
Astride the bull, I observe the clouds above.
Onward I go, no matter who may wish to call me back.


7. The Bull transcended

Astride the bull, I reach home.
I am serene. The bull too can rest.
The dawn has come. In blissful repose,
Within my thatched dwelling
I have abandoned the whip and rope.

All is one law, not two.
We only make the bull a temporary subject.
It is as the relation of rabbit and trap, of fish and net.
It is as gold and dross,
or the moon emerging from a cloud.
One path of clear light travels on
Throughout endless time.


LET YOUR MINDFLOW...

Taming the wild ox - Part I

This always intrigued me. I know this pictures for years, but they are still new.
The Ten Oxherding Pictures, by Zen Master Kakuan, China, 12th C.

Those pictures are old, but they have everything they need to stay ahead of us. They have us inside.
So I'd like to propose a journey through them... through us. Trying to understand them made me closer to myself and every time I notice I couldn't be so far.

Here we go!

1. SEEKING THE OX
Desolated through forests and fearful in jungles, he is seeking an Ox which he does not find. Up and down dark, nameless, wide-flowing rivers, in deep mountain thickets he treads many bypaths.
Bone-tired, heart-weary, he carries on his search for this something which he yet cannot find. At evening he hears cicadas chirping in the trees.

The Ox has never really gone, so why search for it? Suddenly he finds himself confronted by a maze of crisscrossing roads.
Greed for worldly gain and dread of loss spring up like searing flames, ideas of right and wrong dart out like daggers.

Looking forward to FINDING THE TRACKS

LET YOUR MINDFLOW...