Zen on the bottom of the ocean

Sometimes, at the bottom of the ocean even the fish chase their tails and mermaids long of surrender...

In the languid dreams of indifference Zen lay on the bottom of the ocean of death filtered through and through and crying out for redemption. A down-payment came full of promises that the sea would absorb her and take her in.

Little did she know that this could be the case but she arranged herself to meet her saviour anyway as she died and flew up to Heaven.

But unknown to her at the crucial moment there was a class of doom that has no particulars but this: that every time you try to climb the mountain you will fall back into the pit you came from, and regardless of the stepping stones there is no escape until you grow wings and fly out of it and away forever; which means: learn your lessons well. No one tells you this; you have to find it out for yourself.

Now, the captain had a big torch he was shining full of love, light and joy and he was trying to attract her attention and never let it be said that she was a dumb blonde with her brunette hair and that she couldn’t see anything further than the far reaches of all she could perceive.

So there he was waving away and there she was at the crossroads of it all when suddenly a brick came from somewhere and knocked her upside down, as they do if you get in the way and all she could see was a doorway to the beach that looked most appealing.

Zen was most perturbed by this unexpected action and began to cry, emotionally; too many jag ends can do that to you.
She was dragged down and away then by the doom and most reluctant she was too, but there you go, what could she do? There are things that pierce you beyond your understanding.

Then she found herself wandering backwards for no reason at all that she could see.

To be Buddha-like in your appeal is an endless cup of tea for some to bite down anon inside the sweet-bird crying the soul’s delight, but it seems this was not for her at this time.

So anyway, Lulu came up from out of the dust to explain it to her and Zen found a few points that struck a bone; but then Lulu went away again and Zen was left scratching her head.

Night came and she saw nothing and then she saw the flower again and then again she saw nothing; this brought her great joy for a moment and then a sadness that was too much; but do not ask her any questions, go find nothing for yourself. You may have considered this.

Now, if Zen was to say: “I will reside amongst you all until I have no more faith in what you say and are and so then I will go on my own way, but until then I will write many stories of boo... would this be fair?”

Where are we in this story?

Ah yes, the captain; a lovely man no doubt, and of course she had met him face to face, he being the chief thief and drunkard of the gang.

One time, coming close to him, again she managed to arrest a falling hard-stop as it hit a pal’s head and then was sure he said: “Nice catch,” to her.

But that was long ago in the infinite moments that pass and who can be such an eager beaver for long? Such are the lonely in their boundaries.

And can you be interested in a mystery by any chance to cut this story short like a rainy day dog chasing its tail; or perhaps a boat to take you to where your thoughts are wandering?

Zen wanted to think about the captain but he was too far away and fading in that mist of time and she had completely forgotten where she was; and it wouldn’t matter if she was having fun, but in the bigness of it all she was not so huge to be wandering so alone.

So she woke up listening to the birds and they had a really nice message for her that she forgot but she did remember one birdie saying: “see you.” And so she said back: “see you,” too.

But the toad-master in life is a struggle and too many pineapples do not make a melon and neither does an old cup of tea unless you’re the flavour of the month, so when the flies are buzzing you take a stick and shake it at them, it may not do any good but it’ll keep you busy; but if it stirs up the toad-master in life’s struggle there’s only one thing to do and that’s to get on your skates and go for a coffee.

As Zen floated down river, girls were talking about diamonds and stuff with a lot of laughing and then all of a sudden they all said: “see you,” then they were gone, taking with them their laughter and leaving only echoes behind and Zen wondered: If it was going to be a day of see you.

In her heart she was tired of indifference and wanted to break out and was sure she was close. The dream is just a dream and when you wake up sooner or later you have to carry on and it’s good if you’re content, it’s a step up from indifference, but it doesn’t always last. Then you find yourself looking around to see where it has gone, or observing things you find interesting to bring it back again.

So Zen was observing the alley cats and thinking it must be good to grow up from childhood with a life inviting you to play and no fear to tie you in knots. How good it must feel to be that open, to have been so nurtured to bring out the best in you and the only discipline to say: Don’t go there, that will only bring pain, go here for joy and fun. How easy that life must be.

Observations aside, the only way to let is to be and the only way to be is to find the centre where all revolves around it and be there and in that place there really isn’t much to say, so it has taken a lot of saying to say there’s nothing to say.

End of part 17

Image from Pixabay

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