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TEXTURAL MIND
Somewhere in here there is a hidden irony, not irony really, but a close enough approximation. We are creatures of softness, we relish textures that yield to our touch, would rather be swaddled than armored, vastly prefer the kitten or puppy to the armadillo or porcupine. It’s all about softness really. And despite this primal…
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SAYING, NO PLEASE
“Every once in a while,” he says and the screeching in my head drowns out what follows. I know what he means of course, that is the easy part, but the gulf between meaning and saying is so broad I can stop and count the traffic of ideas floating by, each seeking its own purchase,…
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UNKO SENDS CLOTHES 鐵笛倒吹 七十八
If I receive warm under robes to ease my winter meditation I will refuse them. If you ask me why, I will say I was born with such robes as I need. If you ask what I wore before birth I shall remain silent. In the deepest winter there is no chill that can reach…
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BODHIDHARMA’S VAST EMPTINESS
If you go walking one day and meet a person you think may be the Buddha, ask him what is the heart of all of the sutras. If he answers you with Dharma will you be certain this person is not the Buddha? If, on the other hand, he says nothing at all, and merely…
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WHERE?
Set aside for a moment the sheer insanity of it all. Pretend that this is not your concern, it is merely something that you inherited, never wanted, would gladly part with on the simplest of requests you doubt will ever be forthcoming. Is this why you treasure it and cling to it so tightly or…
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E-MOTION
She says she is angry and he finds that easy to understand. He as given up on anger, he finds it too exhausting and ultimately of such little value he has moved permanently on to cynicism and disdain. She says she finds little benefit in either, and having a certain amount of faith gives her…
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FEAR LESS
The hard part of death and dying is not the giving up or letting go but the taking from. This is why the living fear death while the dead are fearless.
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THE SIXTH ANCESTOR’S “YOUR MIND IS MOVING”
As you look out the window you say the branches of the tree are dancing, the clouds barely stopping to gaze down on the scene. Walk outside and feel the breeze skitter along your skin, see the seed pods of the maple take wing and fly off. Ask yourself why this is, is it the…
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REFLECTIONS
You believe this is how, and where, it begins, but that is only your conception of it. You believe the mirror shows your face each morning, but it is merely polished glass, and you mind sees what it perceives to be you in the glass, while the glass is empty. It has no real beginning,…
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TUNG SHAN’S NO COLD OR HEAT
You say all you seek is moderation, simply finding a middle way, though nothing at all would suffice for you, no pleasure, no pain, no loss or gain, you would willingly attach to nothing at all. This is not the path the Buddha would tell you, for the place you claim to seek cannot ever…
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an old writer and his words 