Monday, April 30, 2007

Sam Hamill contradicts my latest post. Doing some early morning Googling I found this Sam Hamill interview. In it he contradicts my idea that poetry is not in-and-of-itself a legitimate "Way," but, instead, needs to be coupled with serious Buddhist study and meditation practice. Here's his quote:

"We have this year's pop stars and this year's Poet Laureate, and this year's Pulitzer prize winner. But none of that means anything to the art and practice of poetry, which insists upon the long view of things that requires a certain humility before the task at hand. Only an ego-maniac would “write for posterity.” So I try to make my art from humble origins and humble daily practice, nevertheless believing completely that the path of poetry is one of the ten thousand paths to the Buddha, and that the practice of poetry itself is entirely sufficient in and of itself. I am a tireless student of the Way of Poetry. I've always loved Gary Snyder's remark, “As a poet, I hold the most archaic values on earth.” I share such convictions as they become both my tradition and my legacy."

3 comments:

Art Durkee said...

I'm with Sam Hamill on this one. I think, strictly speaking, any activity done with mindfulness, in the Budhist sense, can be a Way.

Also, Matsuo Basho, the haiku master, called his practice the Way of Poetry; he talked more than once about that.

Tom Morgan said...

Thanks, Art! I'm treading lightly here in all this Buddhist thinking. I don't want to entirely rule out anything—washing the dishes to flying airplanes—as a "Way," but it seems to me that most "Ways"—tea ceremony, calligraphy, etc.—have strict codes and forms. Post-modern American poetry just seems all over the place-- like a pathless path or something.

At any rate, it seems like a difficult route to travel alone (without the sitting and the sangha), no?

Best to you,

Tom

Art Durkee said...

You're referring, in calligraphy and tea, to established, codified, formalized, institutionalized practices, that do indeed have strict codes and forms. (It is within those forms, it is argued, that the mind becomes free to be opened.) Each one of those institutions has been rejected at various times, by Zen practitioners in particular, as having begun with the true and open spirit of seeking, but by now having become ossified into forms that restrict the spirit rather than reveal it.

But even there, it's how you approach it: you can approach it with an open heart, and embrace its way and grow with it; or you can approach it with a closed heart, and reject it. The whole idea of beginner's mind is about keeping oneself open to possibility and flexibility.

I wasn't thinking of post-mod American poetry per se, as you put it, because like most poetry in most eras, that has nothing to do with spiritual practice and everything to do with ego. There is so much ego in contemporary poetry that it infiltrates everything, without most folks being aware of it.

But there IS a strong tradition of Buddhist-inspired poetry in American poetry, going back a full century or more.

I refer the interested reader to "Beneath a Single Moon," an anthology of writings by Buddhist American poets. Each poet has a short essay to comment on their practice, followed by a few poems. One of my favorite writers is Jim Harrison, and his introductory essay in this volume is a gem.

The sangha can be other poets who are dedicated to poetry as a way, rather than a traditional, formal sangha, I feel. Otherwise, yes, the sangha is a key support.

But really, anything practiced with mindfulness can be turned into a way. I learned that very early on in practicing Ki Aikido, which was a very powerful training ground for me in mindful attention to what is happening right now, just this instant. There were times we practiced things other than the traditional martial arts techniques, deliberately, with mindfulness, to expand our practice. So, we did calligraphy practice. We di breathing meditation. We did walking meditation. We did a whole bunch more. The mindfulness one brings to sitting in the dojo can be practiced all the time, continuously. Even when slicing a lemon, or driving. Relaxed focused awareness of everything going on Right Now. And it melts into the next moment, and it melts, and it melts . . . .