Satori: Word of the Day

In Zen Buddhism, satori defines the inner, intuitive experience of enlightenment, perhaps similar to having an epiphany.

Satori is said to be unexplainable, indescribable, and unintelligible by reason and logic.

It is comparable to the experience undergone by Gautama Buddha when he sat under the Bo tree and is the central Zen goal.

It’s a moment of total presence, of no mind and no thought but a flash of insight and awakening of the light of our own consciousness.

I also discovered that in Japanese folklore, Satori are mind-reading monkey-like monsters said to dwell within the mountains of Hida and Mino. That sounds pretty scary to me, so I’ll stick to the other definition of satori as instant enlightenment.

Have you experienced satori?

“Satori is the sudden flashing into consciousness of a new truth hitherto undreamed of. It is a sort of mental catastrophe taking place all at once, after much piling up of matters intellectual and demonstrative. The piling has reached a limit of stability and the whole edifice has come tumbling to the ground, when, behold, a new heaven is open to full survey.”

D.t. Suzuki, An Introduction to zen Buddhism

Ma…the space between things

I’m inspired by the spartan aesthetic of Zen Buddhism.

Is less really more?

Ma (pronounced “maah”) is a celebration of not things, but the space between them. It’s negative space, voids, emptiness. The place you get to (if you’re lucky) in meditation. Like the space where that tree used to be.

I’m not exactly sure why this tiny little ceramic vase IS. Like why it even exists.

I mean, who designed it, procured a company to manufacture it, and filled a cargo ship full of them bound for the USofA?

I have no idea, but I fell in love and brought it home for $1.50. How could anyone NOT love shopping at Daiso?

Only four inches tall, it holds about a tablespoon of water and I continued to replace flower after flower until I got the brilliant idea of searching around the garden for beautifully shaped little twigs.

These are the last remnants of the ficus tree that is no longer there, and I decided it would be a simple way to honor that once living entity by saving a little part of it.

At first I was going to embellish them with faux gems, pearls, and seashells–like I usually do–but the more I looked at it, the more I loved the bare simplicity. I didn’t want to detract from the design of the vase.

I should write a haiku about the tree and these twigs. Being a minimalist with words is just as difficult for me as NOT gluing shiny things to those tiny little branches.

Nasturtiums in Orange #WordlessWednesday

So much is upsetting at WordPress…the change in the Reader and the format of the write/edit/publish page–whoever thought one could HATE to see “beepbeepboop” as much as I do — so in order to recapture my ZEN, here’s one of my favorite pictures of nasturtiums from the garden.

Because ORANGE.

It looks like a painting.

Enjoy this mostly #wordlesswednesday

Nastursiums orange

enchantedseashells.com