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A LIFE, LIVED
The moon, a warm summer night, two ducks, a pond, utter stillness, a mirror weeping, deep purple velvet, a feather racing a leaf across the morning sky, a door swinging, a gate without hinges.
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NOT NOW, BUT SOON
If not that moment perhaps the next or the one after that or did we miss it, in our desire to grasp and capture it and somehow make it ours. We are used to such failures, they are commonplace, and anyway there is always something new following, so we must get ready, for we don’t…
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MINDFUL MINDLESS NESS
The difference between before and after is the moment we can never seem to grasp. In the time it takes to read the definition of evanescence, its meaning is lost to history. That, ultimately is the failure of thought and logic, for the process is so overwhelming what we process is turned to dust in…
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PAX ET VERITAS
When you suddenly stop and freeze all that is going on around you, when silence replaces the sounds of life, you can finally hear yourself not think. This is the peace that always seems to lurk just out of reach, out of sight. Let it embrace you if you dare.
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MU MONKAN
Walking on the road today, I didn’t see the Buddha and thus had no need to kill him. I did find what I thought to be a dog’s Buddha nature, but it proved to be nothing- ness, so I walked on through the gate that led exactly nowhere. This evening it rained and I picked…
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AD INFINITUM
When all is said and done and everything that can be written has been, when the questions have all been answered or forgotten, when you grow tired of answers, ask yourself this:
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JOSHU’S DOG (SHOBOGENZO 114)
Joshu’s dog and Schrödinger’s cat- are they one and the same. Leave the lid on the box of the mind. What is the half-life of a thought?
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CHAO CHOU’S FOUR GATES
Standing on the edge of the precipice with your eyes closed, what will you do? If I turn you around, where is the edge and where is the land from which you approached? If I say you must take a step, do you gently place your toe out and seek to feel the earth,…
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NOW
If the time is now how will we know it? And if we miss it how will we know what the consequences are? The better question is whether it matters, for if we can be in each moment to the extent possible, then nothing is missed and every moment is now and there can never…
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AROUND IT
It is remarkably simple, really, a single circular brush stroke in a monochrome black on rice paper, always nearly perfectly round, never is the circle complete, always some small thing left wanting. You stare at it, more at the small gap, imagining it filled, hoping it cannot be for it holds out the promise that…
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an old writer and his words 