And Buddha Driven
How many people do you know blesses their parts?This is what’s written on it. Therefore whenever I start up the car I’m purifying my karma. Thee, who hears it, is also purified and blessed. Om Benza Sato Hung!
Live like you don’t exist. Bless the streets! 📿🙏📿
I’ve witnessed divine Grace. Not for me, but for another Runner. This godly out of this world experience brought tears of happiness to my eyes. With that being said I want to see everyone like this. I know not all can have this experience, but know that it’s in all of us. You’re best friend, your family members, enemies, and foes can experience this. It will be a step closer to… Well, whatever spiritual experience you want to believe. But whatever you call that experience, it is an AWAKENING. We’ve all been asleep for too long. Let’s all wake up. Peace.
That’s how I have been feeling lately. I went from a life style of a “kanjozoku” with an addiction for speed, turns and law breaking highway driving
To a practicing monk of the Enryaku-ji temple on Mt. Hiei.
I can’t say I am completely changed but from what I have experienced, I wonder if I’ve had some type of preliminary satori (or at least I hope). It was like any other feeling you get when you experience something new, except about a foot off the ground… And I will add this, the moment I experienced that feeling, it went out the door within seconds. There’s a saying that the student who has obtained satori can still go to hell as straight and as fast as an arrow. Because anybody who has a spiritual experience; if you try to make it a living thing, it’s like catching a handful of water, the harder you clutch, the faster it squirts through your fingers. There’s nothing to get hold of, because you don’t NEED to get hold of anything. You had it from the beginning.
I am a student, and I will always be one. High understanding comes from not understanding at all. You know it best when you say “I don’t know it.” When it comes to Eastern views of a monk, they are referred to as a student because they’re more like a student in a theological seminary. They may stay much longer than the usual three years; they may stay thirty years or so, but it’s always possible for them to leave with dignity, to graduate, go into lay life, or get married and have a family. And that’s the beauty of it, I can leave my temple at any time to enjoy outside regular life. But as of lately I have been taking care of my family and focusing on spiritual awakening. For that, to raise my child right, I have to be righteous, I have to be good, I have to be what I want my child to be. Spiritual awakening is not a religion, it is just simply AWAKENING. It is the art of understanding this universe. My only “religion” is turning anxiety into laughter.
At the end of last year I Resurrected my temple (remember the body is a temple). I walked into the 36 Chambers and looked at my car, where it’s been locked up for quite some time now… I started having these crazy thoughts of what to do with it next, but then I remember an old Zen phrase “don’t draw legs on a snake” because it moves just fine without them. Keep it simple.
I got into my car and I felt like… Well, like this:
Talk about art imitating life (more like based on real life events). I laughed so hard when I saw this scene, because it’s like a prediction of the future lol
You see, all of these stories resemble jokes in this sense, or at least in my point of view, whether it’s my stories or Zen stories, etc. When you get the point of a joke, you laugh spontaneously. But if the point has to be explained to you, you don’t laugh so well; you force a laugh. There is some kind of sudden impact between the punchline and the laugh, and so in exactly the same way with these stories, there is expected to be something else than laughter, which is sudden insight into the nature of being. Don’t take life seriously. Life will come to an end eventually. But we don’t listen to a song to hear the end. We listen to enjoy the experience.
– Run The Monk
has been resurrected.
Based on a true story… Many years ago…
A man is driving down the road and his car breaks down near a monastery. He goes to the monastery, knocks on the door, and says, “My car broke down. Do you think I could stay the night?” The monks graciously accept him, feed him dinner, tow his car to the monastery and even fix it.
As the man tries to fall asleep, he hears a strange sound. A sound unlike anything he’s ever heard before. The sound is very peaceful and healing. He doesn’t sleep that night. Instead he stays up studying the sound. Measuring the rhythm… It’s almost as if he can measure the hertz as well…
The next morning, he asks the monks what the sound was, but they say, “We can’t tell you. You’re not a monk.” His car gets fixed and the man leaves. Years later, after never being able to forget that sound, the man goes back to the monastery and asks for the answer again. The monks reply, “We can’t tell you. You’re not a monk.” The man says, “If the only way I can find out what is making that beautiful sound is to become a monk, then please, make me a monk.” The monks reply, “You must travel the earth and tell us how many blades of grass there are and the exact number of grains of sand. When you find these answers, you will have become a monk.” The man sets about his task.
After years of searching, it is now present day. He returns and knocks on the door of the monastery. A monk answers. He is taken before a gathering of all the monks. “In my quest to find what makes that beautiful sound, I traveled the earth and have found what you asked for: By design, the world is in a state of perpetual change. Only the Universe knows what you ask. All a man can know is himself, and only then if he is honest and reflective and willing to strip away self deception.” The monks reply, “Congratulations. You have become a monk. We shall now show you the way to the mystery of the sacred sound.”
The monks lead the man to a wooden door, where the head monk says, “The sound is beyond that door.” The monks give him the key, and he opens the door. Behind the wooden door is another door made of stone. The man is given the key to the stone door and he opens it, only to find a door made of ruby. And so it went that he needed keys to doors of emerald, pearl and diamond. Finally, they come to a door made of solid gold. The sound has become very clear and definite. The monks say, “This is the last key to the last door.” His life’s wish is behind that door. With trembling hands, he unlocks the door, turns the knob, and slowly pushes the door open. Finally he is utterly amazed to discover the source of that peaceful sound… But, of course, I can’t tell you what it is because you’re not a monk.
“In the popular Buddhism of Tibet and China and Japan, people worship the great bodhisattvas—as saviors.”
“People loved Guanyin because she/he—could be a buddha, but has come back into the world to save all beings. The Japanese call he/she Kannon, and they have, in Kyoto, an image of Kannon with one thousand arms, radiating like a great aureole all around this great golden figure.”
“These one thousand arms are one thousand different ways of rescuing beings from ignorance.”
“I remember one night when I suddenly realized that Kannon was incarnate in the whole city of Kyoto; that this whole city was Kannon.”
“That the police department, the taxi drivers, the fire department, the mayor and corporation, the shopkeepers—in so far as this whole city was a collaborate effort to sustain human life, however bumbling, however inefficient, however corrupt—it was still a manifestation of Kannon with its thousand arms, all working independently, and yet one.”
“You don’t have to go anywhere to find nirvāṇa. Nirvāṇa is where you are, provided you don’t object to it.”
The Buddha’s of Bamiyan. They were made somewhere between the 4-5th centuries.
In 2001 they were destroyed by the Taliban with heavy artillery and dynamite.
“This work of destruction is not as simple as people might think. You can’t knock down the statues by shelling as both are carved into a cliff; they are firmly attached to the mountain… Muslims should be proud of smashing idols. It has given praise to Allah that we have destroyed them. We are destroying the statues in accordance with Islamic law and it is purely a religious issue.”
That has to be the silliest shit I ever heard. “I’m going to destroy it! Why? Because I don’t like it!” It sounds like an angry child talking.
There is a difference between a living Buddha and a stone Buddha. If you go up to a stone Buddha and you hit it hard on the head, nothing happens. You break your fist. But if you hit a living Buddha, he/she may say ouch. Buddhas are human, they are not devas, they are not gods. They are enlightened men and women.
So what did they destroy? Nothing. Silly terrorist.
San Diego felt it’s first heat wave of the summer. It got me reminiscing of those days in Sacramento where it’s 100+ degrees everyday… I was driving around in a gutted car in that heat too… I don’t know how I did it, that shit felt like a furnace! Haha man those days are over! No more dailying the hatch. With that being said, I already put it in hibernation. I hired someone to check on it occasionally, but until I have the time to drive it and have fun with it, it’ll be locked up deep inside of the 36 Chambers. The day I sealed it up, I found some old photos during its process of being a typical Honda you’ll see on Honda-tech, to what you see today. Visually it doesn’t look like it has changed at all, but it’s the inside that counts.
The current state which it is in now reflects how a JDM Civic from the 90’s should be like in my mind, and though it mirrors kanjozoku cars in Osaka, it’s more of “game recognize game” type of shit. While others try go to for that kanjo look, this shit is second nature to me. As I stated in previous blog posts in the past, I got inspired by the Osaka culture back in the early 2000’s. AND TO BE QUITE HONEST, IF IT AINT GHETTO, IT AIN’T KANJO.
And that’s exactly why I hit the streets. That shit is my freedom. I couldn’t sit still. But you see I am now in a stage in my life where I do sit still. Back to taking it slow, and as the kanjozoku stated how he’s not in pursuit of enlightenment, that’s exactly how my mindstate was when building this car. I built it to wild out.
I am a different person now. I have set my mind on a goal that’s outside of the car culture. But I still include myself in it, P. Runner is still here. I’m never going to leave. I just put it on hold. I have been and always will be, watching from the shadows. Just like how The Private Runners Street Family are the watchful inconspicuous eyes that you over look and don’t see. Most people when they hear that someone is from the streets, they automatically think of a gang banger or a hustler etc. But no, when I say streets I’m talking about a person who kicked it with the homeless, a person who wandered the streets in search of answers and truth. Just as KRS ONE left his home at a young age and lived on the streets, lived with the homeless and stayed outside the World Trade Center. Just as Siddhartha Gautama left his kingdom and roamed the country in search for his enlightenment. PVT Runners are not just about car culture. Cars are just one of our mediums. We are about awareness and consciousness. This is my new journey.