Beginner's Mind: reflections on meditation, dreaming and when awake

by James A. Moore

This is James Moore's fourth book of select poem and original art.

(From the Back Cover)
"With Light"

I walked through the market
but there was nothing I wanted to buy,
nothing I thought I needed,
until the smile
on the faces of a few
gave me what can't be bought,
and in that moment I drained the full cup
I'd been carefully holding,
and filled it anew
with light.

121 pages, Paperback

Published December 30, 2019

About the author

James Moore has published eight collections of poems and original art. He has spent his adult life as a resident of Washington State, much of it off-grid in the remote North Central region, during which time he has worked as a climbing and vocational instructor.

Retired now and self employed with Opti-Mystic Arts, his spiritual and literary influences range from Lao Tzu, Buddha Shakyamuni, Longchenpa, C.G. Jung, Mises, Rothbard and Sowell to Robert Hunter, Richard Thompson and Dr. Seuss.

"Dreams"

There is no ownership
in the night
where dreams come and go
alone
we burn the dead like cordwood
and wait for dawn
to summon the authorities
(2016)

"Sun Made Flesh and Fiber"

In the woods of your own making every tree
has a dark side
and each, a whole, casts a shadow.

Where can you turn
to find a way through?
Where can you run
that does not lead back into?

Trees, however dark and dense we find them,
only grow by the light of Sun.

They are in fact Sun made flesh and fiber,
and we, Sun’s eyes
as bright as stars
whose dust we honor,
have no home but here.
(2019)

"Nonmeditation"

Watch the mind
not like a cat sits
watching for mice,
but how a child lays
gazing into the open sky
as cloud-trains pass.
Simply watch the mind,
and eventually it will invite you in
to meet the family.
(4/2/22)

"In Praise of Mindlessness"

I’ve sought and found mindlessness in a variety of ways
From dancing to climbing, meditating and painting,
but in retirement I find it easiest mowing the arboretum.

As I weave in and out of the randomly placed trees and shrubs
and regularly spaced irrigation pipes
I seek the novel and fresh at every turn.

It’s best when I find it
unexpectedly zipping off in a new direction
exploring new pathways, carving new patterns.

In these moments there is a rush
as the spontaneous surprises me, creativity takes hold,
and I can’t help but ride the moment.

I’ve spent years aiming for this moment on a cushion
and find poetic justice
in the fact it is at last as easy as pie in retirement.

Of course it’s not true mindlessness
after that initial spontaneous instant.
I have to make sure I don’t drive over anything.

But random is always an option,
and eagerly seeking it leads me to fall, or in this case, drive
into spontaneous mindlessness again, and again.
.
The joy that accompanies the mindless
is what interests me most.
It’s a self-contained joy that feeds on and for itself.

The German word, ‘funktionslust’ describes it best.
The joy an animal gets doing what it’s meant to do
which of course means it just gets better at doing it.

This is how birds learn to fly and primates climb,
how yogis become accomplished doing nothing and going nowhere,
and how lazy old men get the lawn mowed, with effortless joy.
(9/2/23)

"The Heart of the Matter"

What is it that really matters?

Is it finding the answers to the big questions,
- finding our place in the cosmology of it all -
Or is it something else entirely,
Something more personal and immediate,
Something of the heart and not the head?

I’ll leave it at that.
(1/7/24)

"Heartless"

Tonight I burn a candle
And think about how heartless humanity has become.
Has it always been this way
Or is it a sign of the times?
I’m no reader of the Bible
But today I heard a quote from it
That hit home,
“As sin increases the hearts of people will grow cold.”
And it makes me cold
To feel this chill radiating off of so many,
And it makes me consciously kindle
The sacred fire within my own.
Amen, I say, quietly
For the many.
(9/10/25)

"It’s All Small Stuff"

Don’t sweat the small stuff,
And it’s all small stuff,
Is sagely advice
For every stage of life.
From birth to death
Everything seems so urgent
As it slips you by
And the next moment
Simply takes its place.
How can it be so effortless
We cry,
As we grasp to hold
What is already past.
(3/10/26)

Reviews

[James · Rating 5 out of 5]

Note: this is NOT a book of fiction by the award winning author James A. Moore, it's a book of dzogchen poems by me, a no-body-sattva (but Goodreads makes it difficult to reassign authorship once assigned so thus the need for this note).