hermit's thatch

While pursuing the mundane task of weeding the garden and grounds the other day, I recalled a comment (somewhere) that the abbot of a Zen monastery would reserve the most tedious tasks to himself, specifically weeding the garden, which has to be performed rather meticulously in order to be performed perfectly and could not be left to novices. Of course, the urge to yank weeds (leaving roots for another round) or to just get the easy or obvious ones is tempting. The point of the story is to apply mindfulness to one’s life. If we go for easy faults or yank some faults while leaving the roots, we have not worked mindfully. We have accomplished nothing. But we will always have another chance.

No sooner did I put a bamboo pole in the flowerbed to prop up a very large sunflower than a cardinal alit on the pole. A flash of brilliant red, and then it was gone. The contrast of colors was striking. What a beautiful moment!

Thomas Merton is much beloved by many, reflecting the evolution of his thought, precocious for American readers, to be sure. What is unique about his writings is the combination of a contemporary and informed critique of society combined with an undisguised defense of not only monasticism but also solitude and eremitism. This is one part of the “contradictory” nature of Merton — the more benign part. The other part is the extrovert thriving on writing, talking, planning, “engaging,” and yet the solitary, a contradiction observed by his own fellow monks as well as outside observers. (Entry revised May 12).

Reading Kenneth Rexroth’s complete poetry book. I am interested in style and technique, the expression of sentiment, not so much content. I first encountered Rexroth in his Classics Revisited and More Classics Revisited. Then it was the Chinese and Japanese translations, which critics say is more faithful to his feelings than to the originals. But that element of personal sentiment is important and makes his translations very good poetry. Rexroth is a neo-classicist, not a modernist, meaning that he runs everything through the classics (Greek/Latin, French/English, Chinese/Japanese). This despite his radicalism in other areas of thought. On top of that he probably does capture Tu Fu better than a transliteration.

The front of the hut is covered with sunflowers … well, not covered, perhaps, but enough of them, with enough space to allow them to grow large. I take no credit: the seeds fell from feeders, scattered by birds — and squirrels and raccoons. I am sure that if I had tried to plant and grow them myself, I would have failed. A perfect example of wu-wei.

Saw a red-shouldered hawk this morning, perched triumphantly on a pole feeder. Not having seen one before but knowing this pale white-ish bird with the triumphant head was unusual, I checked the field guide: the picture was identical, and the hawk gave out a “key-yah” to confirm what the guide described as to its call. Perched below him in the feeder, not daring to move, was a frightened woodpecker, so often the bully to smaller birds. (Reminded me of the Gospel story of the indebted servant who cowered before the master but went out and roughed up his own debtors.) With another “key-yah” the hawk flew off.

The development of an ethos of reclusion in ancient China thrived in part because it was more strongly ethical than (any) religion. Ultimately, it was stronger than Confucianism, and found further philosophical support in Taoism. It would be very difficult to transport this ethos to the West or try to embed it in Western religion.

Spring continues in our part of the world. The banana trees that die annually with the frost are reappearing vigorously from the bare soil. Basho, himself a hermit, was felicitously named “banana leaf.” He mentions somewhere how much he enjoyed the leaves against his window in summer, especially with the rain. Presumably, it, too, died, every winter, only to resurrect in the most miraculous way. But everything else is turning green, from the bare branches of the fig to the favored grass of rabbits, who also have returned. As so many sages have said, it is not the suspension of natural law that should be considered miraculous, but rather the existence of the cycle renewed indefinitely. Life itself, every moment of it, is a miracle. Would that we can always appreciate this simple truth.

Business around the house means activity outside the house. In a short time, we have seen bear, deer, foxes, no rabbits (still scared off by the feral cats), raccoons, the usual squirrels, and many birds, including woodpeckers, cardinals, catbirds, mockingbirds, blue jays, sparrows of various sorts, and the silly-looking doves. Feeding birds has meant subsidizing squirrels (whose antics always get a little too cute) and, lately, raccoons, who climb the roof in order to raid feeders hanging from the eaves. I suppose horses don’t count since they are human imports, but they are there, too. And over us all, the stark, often cloudless winter sky at night, with a spectacular moon and busy stars.

The search for authentic eremitism in Western Christianity can be misleading. The Grandmontines were not true hermits at the beginning, except for the temperament of its founder, Stephen of Muret. Soon, that possibility was gone. Likewise the Camaldolese and Carthusians were never genuine hermits in the style of the desert fathers. They are too dependent on the formalities of ritual and sacrament to be true hermits. This, of course, is the pressure of the ecclesiastical authorities. This is not to say that their spirituality was essentially flawed. I dare not judge. But they were not hermits, and they did not live in solitude.