When you sit on the cushion
there is only you, there is only
the cushion, nothing more.
When you rise from the cushion
what becomes of you?
Do you change, are you
in some way different?
But if there is no you
if there is only one
then the cushion
does not matter any longer.

A reflection on Case 44 of the Book of Equanimity (従容錄, Shōyōroku)