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We live with minds as open and spacious as the deep blue sky. Living in Blue Sky Mind presents basic Buddhist teachings that keep us on the wholesome path of self-realization and oriented toward a happy life. Zen priest and teacher, Richard Gentei Diedrichs, offers simple lessons, anecdotes of personal transformation, and reflective questions to guide us along Buddha’s enlightened way.
What people are saying:
Living in Blue Sky Mind is a gift this author gives to all of us, of all ages, as he shares the joy and truth found in Buddha’s words.
Living in Blue Sky Mind will doubtless serve as an excellent introduction to Buddhist thought for some, and a re-acquaintance with the concepts for others. Personally, I was reminded of why Buddhism is so appealing to me.
This is a great book for anyone interested in basic Buddhist teachings and how they can affect our personal happiness. The author’s voice and stories stay with you and continue to resonate long after you turn the last page.
Living in Blue Sky Mind is a gem of a resource for anyone who is open to learning about Buddhism, mindfulness practice, and living a happier and more compassionate life.
Living in Blue Sky Mindis a terrific primer for the young or adult mind who is curious about Buddhism. It also can function as review for someone who may have dabbled in Buddhism in the past and may have forgotten how important it was to them at some point. The passages are short, concise and entertaining. They reinforce the ways in which a Buddhist, or really anyone who wants to bring more awareness into their interactions, should live.
The book has certainly made a subtle but meaningful change in my own life. As someone who once spent many years in the academic study of Buddhism, I still read plenty of Buddhist philosophy, but I’ve only loosely maintained my Buddhist practice. Reading Living in a Blue Sky Mind re-affirmed my need for a daily practice. I am setting the book next to my zafu, so that I can re-read the chapters as Dharma reminders prior to my meditation sessions at home.
“Everything, Julian! He sold it all,” my mother shrieked.
I stepped into the dark living room. “What are you talking about?”
My mother’s frightful face glowed in the light of her phone screen. “The storage unit. We didn’t even divide it up yet. Everything we owned.” She lowered the phone and reached for her wine glass.
I wanted out, but I sat on the edge of the chair, across from her. “Why don’t you let some light in here, Mom?” I said. “Open the curtains. It’s depressing.”
“I don’t want light in here. I don’t want to see this dump.” She sipped her Chardonnay. “I will get even with that man, if it’s the last thing I do,” she slurred. The gloom of the room and the stress of battling my father made her face look tired and haggard, older than her forty-four years.
“Great attitude, Mom. The cold dish of revenge. That will fix everything.”
“You listen to me!” my mother said. “That man has gone too far. If he thinks he can cheat me, he’s in for a very unpleasant surprise.”
“What does that mean?”
“He has crossed the line, Jules, and there is no going back.”
“Wonderfully ominous, I must say, Mother. And good luck with that. Now, your National Merit Scholar of a son has homework to do.” I walked out as she drained her glass and stood. I could have brought her the wine bottle, but I figured it would be enabling. I never understood why she left it in the next room. Did she think it showed restraint? Maybe by the time she reached it, she figured she earned a refill. Or maybe she worried that if the bottle were right there next to her on the table, she would pick it up and chug it. I don’t remember my mother being much of a drinker before my parents split. Every night when my father got home, she mixed him two or three Vodka Collins and they debriefed his work day. Usually she nursed a glass of wine. At their parties, she was propping him up by the end, while he staggered around making an ass of himself. And she certainly was not the parent who drove through town running Saturday-morning errands with an open pint of vodka jammed in the crotch (and two young sons behind him in the back seat).