an old writer and his words

  • SNAKE EYES

    Einstein said, and I assume he believed, that God didn’t play dice with the universe. Hawking disagreed, said God was an inveterate gambler and worse still he would not only throw the dice but he is so sarcastic that he would gladly confuse us by throwing them where they can’t be seen. You have to…

    Lou Faber

  • BUDDHA IN WALES

    Sitting cross legged I dance between mindfulness and Samadhi, slipping the unmarked boundary until engulfed by the void. Buddha crawls into my lap an utter stillness until she touches my cheek with sand paper tongue and kneads my chest with rhythmic paws. I run my fingers down her spine. We purr, wedded in perfect enlightenment.

    Lou Faber

  • SEEKING THE BUDDHA

    I looked for you on the bullet train from Osaka to Tokyo, but perhaps you were in the unreserved car sharing a seat with a small girl, and a withered old woman, eyes closed, staring placidly at the holy mountain shrouded in clouds.

    Lou Faber

  • BUDDHA AND HILLEL DINE TOGETHER

    The meeting occurred by chance, two old men sitting in the same park staring at the same empty chess board as the waves of the Stygian Sea lapped against the break wall, the ferryman now at the helm of the great cargo ship. “So,” said Hillel, “you come here often?” Old, bent Buddha paused “as…

    Lou Faber

  • QUANTUM

    The universe is both enormously vast, measurable only in metaphor – and so infinitesimally small, it is an idea that would fit in the corner of a grain of sand. As you walk the beach grasp universes between your toes and kick them into the tide of the cosmos.

    Lou Faber

  • THE FLUTE PLAYER PLAYS ON

    HYAKUREI’S ATTAINMENT  鐵笛倒吹 四  Sitting with a monk at the feet of the master when his mouth opens what will you hear? If you both see a sudden light will you say something when asked?   Walk slowly away from questions and keep your answers tucked away in your straw hat and lit all be…

    Lou Faber

  • SENBAZURU

    The crane stands placidly staring through the window as we earnestly attempt to imitate him, hoping he will honor the effort and not the result. The Master is graceful and we far less so, and out of the corner of my eye I see what could be smile, but could be derision as well, and…

    Lou Faber

  • THREE NOTES FROM THE IRON FLUTE

    MANJUSHRI ENTERS THE GATE  鐵笛倒吹 一  Like Manjushri, stand still outside the gate and listen for the call of Buddha from within.   When he calls, answer but is Buddha inside and you without? There is nothing at all to see, and the gate has fallen from its hinges so answer yourself carefully.    …

    Lou Faber

  • INTERSTICES

    In the interstitial moment between birth and death a universe comes into existence, something that never before existed and existed always, new and well-known, unseen and visible for eternity. Measure it well for it is incapable of measurement, and ends without warning and precisely on schedule. In the momentary breath that marks the transit, we…

    Lou Faber

  • STANDING AT THE GATE: REFLECTIONS ON THE MUMONKON

    Joshu’s Dog                 無門關 一    There is no question nor dog nor Buddha-nature.   There is no thing   In the far corner Joshu barks loudly.   Hyakujo’s Fox             無門關 二     The old, crippled fox crawled slowly from the mouth of the dark cave.   Sidling up to Hayakujo the old monk said to fox, “think…

    Lou Faber