Kannon

With palms together,
Good Morning Everyone,


On my small altar in my bedroom, where I sit to write to you, is a Medicine Buddha, a small statue of Kannon and a set of photographs. The pictures are of my father and grandfather on one side and my grandfather and myself on the other side. I have placed the Bodhisattva of Compassion in the vortex between them.

My father was a wounded healer. I first wrote warrior, but corrected it as he was a medic during world war two in the south pacific. His job was blood and guts. And forever after, he washed himself with beer and whiskey.

My grandfather on my mother’s side was a gentle soul, a farmer-gardener, who made paper for a living in New Jersey. I have fond memories of summer visits, cherry trees, flowers, and tea with cinnamon sugar toast.

Together they gave rise to me. I hold Kannon in my heart center forever there to accept the cries of the universe.

Be well.