Haiku as spiritual practice

Writing haiku, the traditional short Japanese poems that have gained worldwide popularity, is something that can prove helpful in opening our eyes to what is, and the wonder of being alive. We are all guilty of spending large portions of our waking hours lost in thought. We swing back and forth between past and future, and only rarely stay right where we are, in the here and now. Typically, we go through life with a “been there and done that” attitude, and in our busy, fast-forward life styles, put the flesh and blood of living on hold to do something “more important.”

When we are born, our vision is fresh. Our first experience is undifferentiated and timeless, and we have no real perception of self or other. As young children, we live in Eden but don’t know it. We unconsciously play in the garden of life, fascinated with the wonder of what is. Writing haiku is an activity that can train our eye to see some of those wonders again, but with the added appreciation gained from age and experience. While obviously a conceptual activity, it is nevertheless one that redirects our attention towards the unconditioned “suchness” of what is. Haiku can give us a hint of the meaning of the Buddhist phrase, Samsara is Nirvana. Writing these short poems, devoid of judgment, prejudice and expectation, can nuture the gift of observation and mindful attention, and help us to find the magic in the ordinary. Just this! It is a practice of being wherever you are, of living in the present instead of in the past or future. This very moment – a fleeting immediacy of what is – is all that is real, and to that we must attend if we are to see the truth of what is.

Allow yourself the priviledge to being stunned by the extraordinary detail of life. Forget all you know. See with fresh eyes, unclouded by conditioning. Take time to sink into the moment, and perhaps taste life when the conceptual veil between self and other falls away. It is here that you can find an abundance of miracles to herald in the few words of a haiku. The form of haiku that is used or the effectiveness of the wording is not what is most important here. Rather, it is that they may unveil for us the obvious, the home we never left but only forgot. Here are a couple of mine:

high grass / peeking at mower / from under the parked car

startled prankster / under the bed / . . . tail showing

offered on its own / the violet’s / flower sermon

same barber / same conversation / thirty years