I like foam, foamy cortado, foamy ocean on my toes, foamy beer on my lips. bubble baths.
When I shared this affection with my zen teacher, he commented: not something, not nothing. My other zen teacher reminded me of foamy skies
in koan tales, and pointed to a few lines from our current study text, Shodoka.
Greed, hatred, and ignorance appear and disappear
Like bubbles on the surface of the sea.
And so, my life. here and gone. here and gone. and again. pop pop pop. where did I go?
Helpfully, wikipedia tells me that foam is an example of a dispersed medium, in which two media, one discrete and one continuous, don't mix but instead hold each other in a particular way. Ooh, and I just remembered the title of a friend's brilliant project: Dispersed Holdings.
A beautiful rabbi came to see me this week to offer comfort and prepare for my funeral. She spoke of the soul. She spoke of fire, earth, breath. She sang. Tears bubbled up, fell upon my my cheeky soul and nourished all of life.
February 16, 2022