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ISAN’S SUMMONS 鐵笛倒吹 三十一
When the master calls for a novice do you answer? When the inkin bell is struck do you begin or end zazen? As you follow your breath when do you leave your body, and who returns when you next inhale? Search instead for an answer that has no question. Who is the novice now? A…
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GYOZAN’S OBJECTS
If a thousand objects are arrayed before you what will you do, what do you call them? A sphere has no edges, I can reach through a cloud. Why would I try to cut a moment in two, or stuff a cloud in my pocket. A reflection on Case 27 of the Iron Flute Koans
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-NESS
Last week it was hers but we felt it ours, and wondered why her furniture, her life was impinging on this “our-ness.” Today it is ours and empty, and it has a deep sense of “whose-ness,” where we can see how easily “ours-ness” might return. Next week it will be our home and we will…
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RINZAI’S TITLELESS MAN 鐵笛倒吹 語十七
If you come upon both beggar and nobleman see neither wealth or poverty, smell neither the fine rosewater or the crying need of a bath, hear neither the ravings of one or the philosophy of the other, taste neither the fine curry of the moldy bread crust, feel neither the tattered rag or the purest…
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NO MIND IS THE WAY
If you think about it, it will suddenly disappear, if you do not think about it, it will reappear, but do not try and understand for understanding can only come from the final surrender of understanding. It is the back of your head in a mirrorless world which others see but you can not. A…
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RISHO’S POEM
Have you been here – who will know? The sun and moon record your journey. What you release gathers joyously around you, what you cling to flies off on the slightest breeze, mountain and cloud enfold each other. Will you join them? A reflection on case 35 of the Iron Flute Koans.
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WHERE, EXACTLY?
The one thing that will drive him crazy is a sign with a star, or square, or anything that says “You Are Here.” The one place he has never been, will never be, is standing on a map. He admits he may be nearby, but here is out of the question. He’s never really sure…
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UNTO TARSHISH
In this place there is a fatted, sacrificial silence. It is the large Jewish Cemetery nestling the road where Maryland and the District are loosely stitched together. It is a small plot goldenrod dirt outskirting Lisbon. This ground is sacred not for the blessing of one who has taken the tallit of holiness. The sanctity…
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EDGY
It is a precarious balance, really, more an exercise in tottering and teetering than and standing still. Some prefer stasis, others, I included, find it leads inevitably to a loss of energy, to an entropy from which it is difficult to escape. I don’t walk along the edge of the precipice, but I do peer…
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SOZAN’S FOUR DON’TS 鐵笛倒吹 九十二
You may seek to follow the path of the dove a fool know many roads. You may wrap yourself in fine linen, an infant wears only his skin and knows this moment is already gone. Think long before you speak of how to walk along the path, of where it leads. The baby says nothing,…
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an old writer and his words 