You know, I am open to hearing all sorts of ideas, and practices, when it comes to…. well… just about anything.   I don’t discount other people’s beliefs, simply because they are not my own.

There isn’t a one of us…. , I don’t suppose….. , who is smart enough to know for sure.  Yes we can believe, but it doesn’t make it true.  Heck, look at the Easter Bunny… or even Hillary Clinton in 2008.

Any way.

I like to learn about peaceful, quiet prayer practices, such as Zen Buddhism, and Meditative Yoga, and Full-Contact Karate.  (I just threw that in about karate, to see if you were paying attention.)

But there is this “thing” in the Zen Way, that says we shouldn’t be judgmental.  Now, I think this is pretty right on.  I try not to judge others based on this or that or anything.  Yet, the Zennish premise is that we don’t judge anything as good or bad.   We simply just experience the sensation.

As much as I’d like to… this is truly impossible for me.  I have some pretty clear cut feelings about this.

For example… let’s take pizza.  When I have a delicious hot piping crusty, cheesy pizza in front of me… and I take a bite… as hard as I may try… I cannot say this is neither good nor bad.  You bet your butt it is good. So good in fact, I’ll have another piece, thank you very much.

But let’s say you close your finger in your car door.  Now, I can definitely deem this as bad.  When that door slams shut on my hand, I do not have the least little bit of Zen in my body.   I will tell you that right. now.  In fact, I say to myself… and the whole rest of the world… right out loud… “Oh MY GOD.. this is BAD!”  Really bad.  Like… my thumb shouldn’t be bending that way… bad.

I know what feels good, and I know what feels terrible.  And it is genuine.

I like a chicken egg… no matter how you cook it.  Good.

I don’t like rubbing alcohol in an open cut.  Bad.   Or drinking sour, curdled milk.  Again, bad.

Holding a puppy.  Good.  Running into a steel beam with your forehead… bad.  You see how this goes.

A monk, I will never be…NO.    They will never give me the Brown  Robe.
And come to think of it…. I got kicked out of the Brownies when I was in the Second Grade.

So there you have it.  Life’s Precursors are everywhere.  I guess that’s good.  Or maybe bad.  I’m just not going to judge it, either way.