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Rider and steed,
of manor house and grand stable,
return once more devoted,
to shelter from wild surrounds.
1 / 10
Master and horse,
of timely routine and disciplined care,
wash vigour aside with heaviness,
to straighten paths and quiet flowers.
2 / 10
Carer and pet,
of comfortable terrace and lush pasture,
consoled by memories fading,
to dull days and formless nights.
3 / 10
Keeper and captive,
of empty glass and barren ground,
tread the perimeter on dead legs,
to the lure of distant clouds.
4 / 10
Exile and fugitive,
of earthed lightning and bruising hail,
flee madly with enlivened gait,
to shelter in shack and forest.
5 / 10
Moon and sun,
of frosted meadow and dripping rubble,
a proper cup of tea arising,
to reliable stillness and warmth.
6 / 10
Breath and posture,
of energetic focus and lifted being,
through wreckage cleared and sorted,
to new paths unimagined.
7 / 10
Here and now,
of surrender and perpetual opportunity,
returning fresh with the wind,
to welcome wild encounter.
8 / 10
Everything and nothing,
of open heart and emptied mind,
rays shine out beyond new moon,
to disparate bodies merged.
9 / 10
Windhorse and I,
of rippling meadow and effortless sky,
no accident in meeting,
to ride the beats within.
10 / 10
< swipe sideways > . . . . try pressing scroll wheel if you have one
FREE THE WINDHORSE
The works presented here were inspired by a series of images used in the ancient Chinese awareness tradition of Chan (or Zen) Buddhism. The Ten Ox-Herding Pictures or Ten Bulls describe the various stages on a path toward spiritual awakening. The original ox-herding pictures and accompanying verses liken this task to a person seeing the traces, glimpsing, taming, and finally forgetting the search for an Ox, they arrive back in the thick of a bustling town. At first glance we might consider these two figures as our self, and a beast of burden, and more deeply as representing one’s own attention, and a search for helpful things.
January 2019, one year before covid began, I voluntarily declared I was deeply troubled, had lost my way in life, was completely stuck, physically and mentally ill, and had to let go of everything. There seemed no possibility of attention or helpful things from me. Sorry. And although covid and lock-down felt like society was joining my lifestyle and this felt oddly comforting, I continued to descend, hoping for rock bottom soon.
January 2019, one year before covid began, I voluntarily declared I was deeply troubled, had lost my way in life, was completely stuck, physically and mentally ill, and had to let go of everything. There seemed no possibility of attention or helpful things from me. Sorry. And although covid and lock-down felt like society was joining my lifestyle and this felt oddly comforting, I continued to descend, hoping for rock bottom soon.
January 2019, one year before covid began, I voluntarily declared I was deeply troubled, had lost my way in life, was completely stuck, physically and mentally ill, and had to let go of everything. There seemed no possibility of attention or helpful things from me. Sorry. And although covid and lock-down felt like society was joining my lifestyle and this felt oddly comforting, I continued to descend, hoping for rock bottom soon.
Thanks to community, and the privilege of accepting help from many places, I found a solid foundation in the daily practice of an hour of simple sitting meditation, always returning from thoughts to breath. This seemed the most helpful thing I could do. During these three years I encountered ‘The Ten Ox-Herding Pictures’ from various places. The universe was talking to me. I listened.
My daily meditation practice then transformed from sitting still, to exertion-full yoga. By turning up nearly every day to practice, I found my energy rising. But with discipline and attention seemingly in hand, an ox didn’t seem to be the animal I was off in the mountains looking for. Lingering in the feeling of being stuck, the animal that I was missing felt more like a spirited horse. It was my spirit that was stuck, silent and spooked.
I knew since primary school, and through my architectural career, that drawing was my way out of this silence, but it had now disappeared from my life and I was unable to put pencil to paper. It was again the idea of daily practice that suggested a way out. Start small, see where it goes, but remember to start small, and yes, the only one that can practice is you. Daily.
By approaching this sequential series of images first indirectly through the unfamiliar medium of poetry, one verse at a time, the arc and images began to appear. Soon, daily practice led to sketches tentatively trickling out of my pencil. Verses were revised, sketches adjusted, a path beckoned me forward. By turning up to draw as a daily practice, I slowly felt less stuck, and the universe spoke to me again. Loudly. This time, through an imperfect Tibetan Buddhist master;
“The result of letting go is that you discover a bank of self-existing energy that is always available to you – beyond any circumstance . . .This self-existing energy is called windhorse . . . The wind principle is that the energy of basic goodness is strong and exuberant and brilliant. It can actually radiate tremendous power in your life. But at the same time, basic goodness can be ridden, which is the principle of the horse. By following the disciplines of warriorship, particularly the discipline of letting go, you can harness the wind of goodness.
In some sense the horse is never tamed. Basic goodness never becomes your personal possession. But you can invoke and provoke the uplifted energy of basic goodness in your life. You begin to see how you can create basic goodness for yourself and others on the spot, fully and ideally, not only on a philosophical level, but on a concrete, physical level.
When you contact the energy of wind-horse, you can naturally let go of worrying about your own state of mind, and you can begin to think of others. You feel a longing to share your discovery of goodness with your brothers and sisters, your mother and father, friends of all kinds who would also benefit from the message of basic good-ness. So discovering windhorse is, first of all, acknowledging the strength of basic goodness in yourself and then fearlessly projecting that state of mind to others.“
– Shambhala, The Sacred Path of the Warrior, 1984, Chögyam Trungpa
The horse that had already appeared for me sure seemed a lot like this windy one. This teaching gave my project new energy. I surrendered to a deep commitment. The work you see here on the wall is a telling of my story in clear stages as I moved through illness. It is also the direct physical evidence of trusting in both myself and something larger than myself, to find the spirit to doggedly turn up to daily practice and overcome stuckness. This work is both an object, and a vehicle of helpfulness.
Whereas I originally undertook this work as a private rehabilitation exercise, the universe seemed to suggest I open up and share my journey. Luckily I live in a bustling town and amazing community.
Tremendous thanks to the organisers of Castlemaine Fringe Festival.
