I think different people have different goals. Right now if I am successful I can laugh at my suffering self. I like to quiet my mind as Zen teaches to a clear calm pool of water. Opening my eyes letting in the light of day or night, everyday angst's like pebbles causing ripples float down as my mind identifies each and realizes, so that's what disappointment feels like.

The flock came to perch – then one sparrow flew away – all followed as one.

Feet washed by the stream-

Looking at eternity-

And begin to laugh-

I dreamed I was dying-

She dissolved into darkness-

I found myself awake

I dreamed I was dying-

as  last thoughts went through my mind-

my beloved appeared then fading into darkness and I found myself awake.

Lazy by  Ryokan

Too lazy to be ambitious,
I let the world take care of itself.
Ten days' worth of rice in my bag;
a bundle of twigs by the fireplace.
Why chatter about delusion and enlightenment?
Listening to the night rain on my roof,
I sit comfortably, with both legs stretched out

The Noble Eightfold Path

"And this, monks, is the noble truth of the way of practice leading to the cessation of dukkha: precisely this Noble Eightfold Path: right view, right resolve, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, right concentration."

— SN 56.11

The definition

"And this, monks, is the noble truth of the cessation of dukkha: the remainderless fading & cessation, renunciation, relinquishment, release, & letting go of that very craving."

The definition

"And this, monks is the noble truth of the origination of dukkha: the craving that makes for further becoming — accompanied by passion & delight, relishing now here & now there — i.e., craving for sensual pleasure, craving for becoming, craving for non-becoming."

The definition

"Now this, monks, is the Noble Truth of dukkha: Birth is dukkha, aging is dukkha, death is dukkha; sorrow, lamentation, pain, grief, & despair are dukkha; association with the unbeloved is dukkha; separation from the loved is dukkha; not getting what is wanted is dukkha. In short, the five clinging-aggregates are dukkha."

— SN 56.11

No man ever followed his genius till it misled him. Though the results were body weakness, yet perhaps no one can say that the consequences were to be regretted, for these were a life in conformity to higher principles. If the day and the night are such that you greet them with joy, and life emits a fragrance like flowers and sweet scented herbs, is more elastic, more starry, more immortal, -that is your success. All nature is your congratulation, and you have cause momentarily to bless yourself. The greatest gains and values are farthest from being appreciated. We easily come to doubt if they exist. We soon forget them. They are the highest reality...The true harvest of my daily life is somewhat intangible and indescribable as the tints of morning or evening. It is a little like stardust caught, a segment of the rainbow which I have clutched.

I dreamed I was dying

She disolved into darkness

I found myself awake.

On a still morning,

Improbable marvelous,

I am here and now.

Hens, a flock of hens-

surprised, left right, where to go-

bunch up start squawking

Speak to me of God.

Ask a flock of Canada geese

You will be amused.

The branch bows to earth-

Squirrel dashes off, then surprise,

A black cat waiting.

The mole on the road-

ran a loop de looping course-

but made it across.

Perched on a broomstick-

a rain drenched sparrow sits-

we watch each other.

 A robin flew by.

Elegant simplicity,

 was punctuated.

The schuffel of feet 

Only leaves blown by the wind

 In a parking lot

 The students get off,

 The heavens continues to weep.

 The school bus doors close.

 In the empty blue sky 
Osprey dives claws splash caught fish
the wonder of it

 Bird tracks in white snow.

Hop, hop, hop, hop, the sparrow,

the frigid morning.

 Sunlight on the snow,

Flash of red in a thicket.

The cardinal moved.

 Blue sky behind clouds,

My imaginary friend, 

Shows me the way home. 

Windblown cotton seed,

As if hovering in air,

Caught by spider thread

Do you find surprise?

in the elegant beauty-

of the silken tread?

 Fisherman spider

Walking through air on silk thread

Carries home his catch

When on the road home

Snapping turtle blocks the way,

Move ancient monster.

Sun lit reeds and grass-

Gravel path through a wet land-

Scent sight sound surprise. 

Leaps yelp feet flying-

A thick furry thing emerges,

pursued by Katy.

Back to a Brier patch-

A panicked flight is transformed-

Muskrat faces her fear.

Shows her muskrat teeth-

My barking dog turns away-

The game is over.

Like red tomatoes

May summer ripen your heart

and rain refresh you.

Rain pool after a storm,

feet standing in on way home,

ah so refreshing.

Feet washed by the stream

Looking at eternity

And begin to laugh

The flock came to perch –

then one sparrow flew away –

all followed as one.

Original life experiences by Dio