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TOZAN’S NO GRASS
As the seasons change I will stand with one foot on the highest peak and the other at the bottom of the deepest sea. But do not ask that I stand in a place where there is no Buddha, or my feet and legs shall fall away into the void. A reflection on Case 68…
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THREADS
This morning I plucked a thread of silence from the dawn, watched, carefully by a cardinal who knew not to break the purity of the moment. I do this as often as I can sometimes grabbing one from the moon, as it sits overhead, holding out its promise of quietude as people retreat into homes.…
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BETWEEN
Between now and then, between yesterday to and today, between night and day, between birth and death, between good and evil, between heaven and hell, between light and dark, between joy and sadness, our lives occur and we are so seldom there to see it happen, lost in dreams of what never will be, never…
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ROSO FACES THE WALL
Come before the Master. If he turns from you and faces the wall he honors you. If the Master enters your room and you turn to the wall you will deserve his stick. As you cannot sit in the Master’s seat he may not sit in yours, but all seats are one seat, no wall…
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SETTLING
Settling into perfect stillness, each of us in our brown robes on brown chairs, benches cushions, note his entry is somewhere between the thundering of a forgotten storm or the garbage trucks crawling slowly down the street. His gray-blue shirt and jeans flash by. He is large in every dimension, even his breathing nice and…
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GYOZAN’S OBJECTS
If a thousand objects are arrayed before you what will you do, what do you call them? A sphere has no edges, I can reach through a cloud. Why would I try to cut a moment in two, or stuff a cloud in my pocket. A reflection on Case 27 of the Iron Flute Koans
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BLESSING
There is a blessing in silence that we so often deny ourselves, unaware that it lies just beyond the noise of our minds and lives. We crave it, beg for it, and hearing the beggar, shun him for the noise he carries like the skin he cannot molt. Beethoven understood silence in his later years…
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A MORNING PRAYER
My words are carried on the winter morning wind echoing off the obsidian mound and shattering in silver crystals reflecting the frigid sun. The barren moon recedes as my son, the wolf, ravens devouring knowledge of the world, listening to the song of the dolphin. She is a rose, soft petals fluttering thorns poised to…
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UMMON’s KONSHIKETSU 無門關 二十一
Ummon might say a pile of cow dung in the road – this may be the Buddha. Will you step in or walk around? A reflection on case 21 of the Mumonkan (Gateless Gate)
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RINZAI’S TITLELESS MAN 鐵笛倒吹 語十七
If you come upon both beggar and nobleman see neither wealth or poverty, smell neither the fine rosewater or the crying need of a bath, hear neither the ravings of one or the philosophy of the other, taste neither the fine curry of the moldy bread crust, feel neither the tattered rag or the purest…
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an old writer and his words 