The Fireplace Records, Chapter 46
Waves of Reflections at the Bandon Jetty
Caught on the Edges of the West: Highway 101
By Michael P. Garofalo
When young I climbed mountains;
Now old I walk beaches.
My heart has new limits;
My mind explores inside limits.
I saunter effortlessly;
I struggle to understand The Root.
Reading the Vegetable Root Verses; (1)
I fell asleep and dreamt I was awake.
I thought three times;
then moved one way.
I took three steps;
then clearly envisioned the next 333 steps.
From confusion emerged distinctions;
Naming points to a way out of chaos.
By words we find new ways to see;
New ways to discover truths or falsity.
Confucius said, Buddha said, Epictetus said,
the Bible said, the Sufi's said, the Yogi's said:;
Maybe they did or did not - it is said;
Kwan Yin did not say, but helped in some way. (2)
The roaring surf, a splashing chorus;
Reflects my inner concerto of words.
Moving with intention and concentration is fire;
Escaping to an excess of quietude is ashes.
Knowing when enough is enough
and too little is too little;
we light a candle in honor of wisdom.
I could not walk down and up the steep steps to the shore;
my legs too weak and wobbly anymore.
I watched the winter surf crashing on sea stacks;
So I just sat and stared, with my mind quite slack.
Booms of thunder, pouring rain, windy, and cold;
Breakfast at a Bandon cafe, warm, out of the showers.
Reading Lama Sura Das on awakening a Buddha mind;
Thinking of New Year, Jade Rabbits, Spring Festival rhymes;
Thankful for the eggs and hash browns - enjoying this time.
Bullards Beach is not Grayland Beach; (3)
They are both the same - out of my reach.
When I move the roaring surf calls;
When still the silent marsh recalls.
At the south jetty's edge, a damp delightful altar on a rocky perch:
a plastic heart,
rocks, shells, angels, cross, kelp,
official warning poster,
all on a washed up log.
The lingering intentions that count;
the smell of wet sand incense
all around and about.
The two jetties remind me of the Anjali Mudra, Gassho.
The north jetting is my right hand, the south jetty my left,
The Coquille River is the Qi energy between my Prayer Hands:
flowing Cloud Hands, Namaste Hands, Energized Hands, Promising Hands.
Playing with analogies and Gassho hands; I bow where I stand.
Touching the spiritual memories between my hands; I bow where I stand.
Honored by the good intentions between our hands; I bow where I stand.
Low tide, high tide - the yin/yang way;
Heart tenses, relaxes - the yang/yin way.
My heart's a flutter, I'm out of breath;
I'm content with life,
and accept my death.
The sand blows up the dunes and down;
The seasons follow the sun, round and round.
Between Heaven and Earth the seagull stands;
While I play Taijiquan, slogging over dry sand. (4)
We both come and go, then are no more;
Full then Empty are close to Life's Core.
The immense Oceans are undrinkable, and
in some ways unthinkable.
No fresh water begets death, and
Water is Life.
Words from the Heart Scripture went unsaid, and
the Bodhi Tree flourished in Life's Garden. (5)
Something evolves from Something Else, and
nothing evolves from nothing.
Beings emerge from Beings, and
emptiness disappears into emptiness.
"Nothing" is not a noun-thing, and
"Somethings" are dependent relationships.
Forms are Full, and
Fullness begets Forms.
Somethings created my body-mind, and
my body-mind created somethings.
The Dao marries Yin-Yang, and
some of their step-children are Black Holes.
Chaos is not emptiness, and
the Void provides Space for Somethings.
Somethings are transitory, ephemeral, and
They are Not empty illusions or unreal.
Time is the crux of the matter, and
Somethings come and go, appear and disappear.
"Nothing" is the absence of Something
we desire, and
not the presence of something.
Somethings are Appearances, and
Appearances are Somethings.
Is or is not, true or false, real or unreal,
something or nothing, be Careful, and
sometimes choose the Middle Way of Maybe So.
Pointing to Nothing, and
slogging through a muddy muddle of Mu.
Come Closer, Come Closer, and
Open the Door to Wonderous Beings.
Come Closer, Come Closer, and
Embrace Body-Mind-Spirit.
Cast off emptiness and the void.
Gate Gate Parasamgate Bodhi Svaha, and
some Lotus plants died in a drought. Oh No!
Words from the Heart went unsaid, and
the Bodhi Tree flourished in Life's Garden. (5)
(1) Master of the Three Ways. By Hung Ying-ming. Translated by William Scott Wilson. 2012.
(2) The Kwan Yin Transmission Book: Healing Guidance from Our Universal Mother. By Alana Fairchild. Llewellyn, 2019.
(3) Bullards Beach State Park is close to Bandon, Oregon. Grayland Beach State Park is near Westport, Washington. Bandon has many sea stacks, and a small rocky shoreline near the 200 foot high cliffs overlooking the sea. Westport to Tokeland consists of flat sandy beaches, sand dunes, and shore pines, shrubs, and grasses. There are no steep rocky cliffs at Grayland Beach. Totally different coastal terrain types in Grayland and Bandon; except for rolling sand dunes covered in grasses.
Bullard's Beach State Park is north across the bridge over the Coquille River from Bandon, Oregon. A large State Park with many sand dunes and ocean beaches with lots of driftwood and items of interest to beachcombers.
Any person can easily drive, bicycle, or walk to the south and north jetties at the conjunction of the Pacific Ocean and the Coquille River. There is an old lighthouse at the north jetty side. There are many miles, on either side of the river, of rock dykes and dirt packed dykes to control the flooding Coquille River. There are many dramatic sea stacks that are south of the two jetties.
Further east from the coast at Bandon, on road 42S, east to Coquille city 42 and Myrtle Point city, was extensive flooding in January of 2023. The entire valley floor farm fields were covered in water for miles on end. Low lying fog made driving the winding country road a bit dicey.
(4) Yang Style Tai Chi Chuan by Michael Garofalo, Vancouver, Washington.
(5) The Heart Sutra and The Threefold Lotus Sutra. Experiences of "emptiness" are often a case of not finding something we desire in the complex world of Somethings. Something desired seems or is missing. We want a drink of water and the glass is empty. Mu,
Poetry by Michael P. Garofalo
Cloud Hands Blog
Above the Fog
Four Days in Grayland
Poetry - Bibliography, Links, Resources, Guides
Cuttings: Haiku and Short Poems
Text Art, Visual/Pattern Poetry
Uncle Mike's Cellphone Poetry Series
Concrete Poetry
Meetings with Taoist Master Chang San-Feng
Shifu Miao Zhang Points the Way
