Verses for Environmental Practice
Waking up in the morning
I vow with all beings
to be ready for sparks of the Dharma
from flowers or children or birds.
Sitting alone in zazen
I vow with all beings
to remember I’m sitting together
with mountains, children, and bears.
Looking up at the sky
I vow with all beings
to remember this infinite ceiling
in every room of my life.
When I stroll around in the city
I vow with all beings
to notice how lichen and grasses
never give up in despair
Watching a spider at work
I vow with all beings
to cherish the web of the universe:
touch one point and everything moves.
Preparing the garden for seeds
I vow with all beings
to nurture the soil to be fertile
each spring for the next thousand years.
When people praise me for something
I vow with all beings
to return to my vegetable garden
and give credit where credit is due.
With tropical forests in danger
I vow with all beings
to raise hell with the people responsible
and slash my consumption of trees.
With resources scarcer and scarcer
I vow with all beings
to consider the law of proportion:
my have is another’s have-not.
Watching gardeners label their plants
I vow with all beings
to practice the old horticulture
and let plants identify me.
Hearing the crickets at night
I vow with all beings
to keep my practice as simple—
just over and over again.
Falling asleep at last
I vow with all beings
to enjoy the dark and the silence
and rest in the vast unknown.
By Robert Aitken in Dharma Rain: Sources of Buddhist Environmentalism, ed. Stephanie Kaza and Kenneth Kraft (Boston: Shambhala Publications, Inc., 2000), 471-473.a