• NANSEN CUTS THE CAT 無門關 十四

    Thirty blows of the stickif right, thirty blowsif wrong, or Namsen’s swordand a severed cat a half to eacha whole to none Be thankful youdidn’t argue about a manfor with a shoeon the head, your feetmay touch the sky. A reflection on Case 14 of the Mumonkan (Gateless Gate Koans)


  • MARCH ON

    We marched regularly, often carring placards,this week against an insane warin a place we had no busines being,next week for the racial justicepromised for a century but never delivered,and then for the ecology, trying to savethe world that our parents promisedfor us as little children and failedto provide, choking through the smogand the teargas, scraping…


  • PROGRESS?

    It is progressing, but thatshould not come as a surprise to you,for they told you it would happenand you accepted that as a fact. It is the speed at which it has progressed,much faster than you imagined,what was once clear, now vagueever more amorphous, half alreadyeffectively gone, and the other half? I imagine what would…


  • THE POET?

    He stood in front of the classin a more than half empty lecture halland leaned into the podium, almost smiling. He was here, a real poet, half famousby his own reckoning, totally so by ourssince he was rumpled, as a poet ought,his sport coat tweedy and ill fitting. Still we harbored some doubts,for there was…


  • THE HALF TRUTH

    As a Jewish kid in a small cityI suppose I had it pretty good, enoughof us that I didn’t totally stand out,and it helped living a single blockfrom the Jewish funeral home, somejust didn’t want to travel all that farwhen the inevitable time came. But we soon moved to the suburbs,the shtetl neighborhood was gone,and…


  • CALLING THE MASTER 無門關 十二

    Each morning ask yourselfif it is you who is thereand answer: “Of course.” Remind yourself“Do not be madea fool of today”and assure yourselfyou will not Each morningfour selves,each deluded, eachthe fool, of one selfwhich is no selffree of all delusion. A reflection on Case 12 of the Mumonkan (Gateless Gate Koans)


  • GREATLY EXAGERATED

    Many now say the age of great literaturehas died, the mortal woiund inflictedby the advent of the self-correctingIBM Selecric typewriter, when wordsbcame evanescent, as suddenly goneas when they spilled onto the page. Others, I count myself among them,believe the wound was not fatal,deep certainly, but yet there remainsa faint pulse, ressuscitation possiblewith the application of…


  • WRITING MY STORY

    With the stroke of a pen,they enabled me to write the story,gave a framework on whichI could hang all mannerof dreams and assumptions,inviting a search I neverquite got around to making. I wandered the beachesof Estoril in my dreams,stalked the avenues of Lisbon,looking for a familiar face,but found only ghosts. With the stroke of a…


  • TODAI-JI

    The snow capped mountainstares at the December skyshredding laughing clouds.I sit by the fire dreamingof the slow approach of spring. There is a momentwhen all is only silencethe zendo in stillness.In that moment I can hearthe entirety of Dharma The temple bell tolls,the deer assume their posture,afternoon zazen,I walk around Todai-jiin futile search of Buddha.


  • STONE

    Just outside townin the old dump isa slab of concreteits twisted edges piercedby rusting rebaronce the floorof the gazebo in the commons.Etched into its surfaceJim + MarieJanet Loves Eddie.Their loves were undyingcast into stone to wearslowly through the agesnot to fall victimto the jackhammer.Jim lies underthe simple stone“Sgt. U. S. ArmyServed Vietnam,”Marie left for collegebut…