He would rather be from somewhere.
Where he is or is not going
matters very little to him now,
he will be where he will be, will go
where he needs or wants to go
or is taken, and when there,
that is where he should be, so
being there is no problem.
But until recently he was from
nowhere and that is not
a comfortable place, it is
really no place at all.
Now, at least, he is half
from somewhere certain, and
the other half at least fits
on a small portion of a map
and somewhere, he will gladly
tell you, is so very much
better than nowhere, for somewhere
can be found if you have the right map.
He finds it hard to believe
that no matter which path
he chooses, and he has chosen
so very, very many over time,
each path seems always
to lead him to one particular place.
The place always seems the same,
here, though he knows it should
be different each time he arrives.
It frustrates him no end, but
he is growing concerned
that one day a path will
lead him to somewhere
that is not here, and he will
have utterly no idea
where to go from there.
He was never one to go searching.
It took up too much time.
It certainly took far more effort
than the results usually warranted.
And there wasn’t anything in particular
he wanted to go in search of.
She said she was searching for ecstasy.
He said he could buy it downtown,
but it had grown rather pricey.
She said she meant that state of being,
that state of spiritual perfection.
He said you couldn’t buy that downtown,
though there were a couple of pastors
in the suburbs who claimed to be able,
for a proper donation, to provide it.
She said she couldn’t pay for what
was promised in the Bible,
she would simply search and wait.
She had faith.
He said he had searched
for faith once, and failed.
That, he said, was when
he gave up searching for things.
When you look in the mirror
do you hope to see yourself,
and who is that face that stares back?
If you turn out the light, are you
still there in the mirror, or has
the illusion of you disappeared?
If you crack the mirror, do you
feel the pain of the scar across your face?
You cannot hope to see yourself, for
you would then cease to be you,
and the mirror would stare and see nothing.
You cannot search for the Buddha
for in looking you make finding impossible.
All this looking and so
very little being, so just be.
A reflection on Case 7 of the Hekiganroku (Blue Cliff Record)
As you walk along a road
do you know where it begins
or where it will end
and what lies along it.
Perhaps the road
is a twisted loop
with neither beginning
but if asked
where you are
on the road
you are always
A reflection on Case 84 of The Iron Flute (Tetteki tōsui)
The true self
and this self
is not self,
is as it seems
for nothing is
and only seems
and so it is
so let go
of this self
though it was
The beauty and the difficulty
of being in the moment
is the realization that there is
no moment in which to be.
When you ask what time it is,
I can only answer by referring
to what time it is not, for time
must be relative to that
which no longer exists,
or has yet to come into existence.
Do not seek to be in this moment,
but rather simply be, for being
without seeking anything is at once
the most difficult task
you can undertake,
and the simplest.