A little silliness of a lazy yogi.
You ask how I spend my time but I am sorry to say that account is bankrupt. I am too lazy for time, for space, for being or non being. I leave all that fuss to younger, perkier people. Free from the shackles of 'time' and 'being,' awareness cavorts in the field of appearance. How happy to be a lazy yogi!
I used to make so many efforts. Ascending levels, traversing paths, generating and completing - wow, that all took time. There was so much to do there was never time enough for enlightenment. Finally, having become too lazy for time or enlightenment, I rest in great ease - nobody son of no one.
It used to be waking at dawn I would separate samsara and nirvana, but now I am old and lazy, and too tired to make all those distinctions. Taking it easy, without so much as a single notion, this useless yogi becomes lazier by the day.
I used to cultivate yogic pleasures - four joys, blazing, dripping, drawing, spreading, running, chasing. Such work! Then I noticed pleasure and pain had no basis - now I wander free of care. When young, all that bliss and suffering hoo ha is OK. But I tell you, acceptance and rejection are a trick.
I used to ponder over birth and death, but now, having looked into the matter, I can find no defining line. Here in the unborn, such notions are just more fodder for the compost pile. Too lazy for birth, the fear of death has slipped away.
I used to scurry about collecting money, from those who had some, using it all to build stupas, make ornaments, construct temples. Too lazy to con another penny, all appearance becomes the glorious stupa. This destitute yogi is too lazy to even build the fabrications of beings and realms.
Offerings gathered in rows, pleasing to the eye, the substances of samaya arcane and hard to find – all of these carefully arranged ... talk about hard work! Owning nothing, I offer the five sense’s luminous empty appearances to the mandala of my body’s deities. In this way everyone is happy and I don’t have to wash the offering bowls! I am a lazy yogi who just lets appearances do the work for me.
I used to travel here and there, seeking out hidden lands, making dharma friends, climbing sacred mountains. Now I am old and my knees hurt. I’m too lazy for friends or enemies and just too damn lazy to wander about so I have accepted everywhere as the pure land, everyone the deity. You don’t need airfare to get to this Dharmadhatu!
I used to read until my eyes and brain hurt. Memorizing sadhanas, scouring tantras, Longchenpa to Dharmashri. Now I’ve misplaced my glasses. Too lazy to bother with papers and books, this yogi prefers to remain stupid and enjoy the ink of appearance on the paper of Dharmakaya.
So you asked me what I do. Well, I don’t. And upon awaking this morning, I jotted this little silliness down for you.