an old writer and his words

  • CHANGES

    Each morning after arisingI look in the mirrorI imagine everything is the same as the day beforeI imagine everything has changedf rom the day before.I do ask the mirror what itbelieves has changed, what itbelieves has stayed the same.Most days it says nothing, merelystares back at me, mocking.Occasionally the mirror will concedethat it is another…

    Lou Faber

  • UNFOLDING

    Wake into the morning’s lightunsure of how you arrived in this moment,of what this day may promise,of how it will unfurl before you, perhapslike a work of art of a dementedorigami unfolding randomly, everythingor nothing at all, no way of knowing.This could be a delusion, could bethe dregs of a dream that night left behind,could…

    Lou Faber

  • FOLLOW THE TRAIL

    To say that I am a wanderer isto vastly overstate the reality.I have wandered quite a bitin my life, but that wanderingwas always predicated on happenstanceand a true wanderer, by definition,wanders with the intent of doing so.I was never looking for anythingmerely a sense of direction, an ideaof how I got to this point, whatforces…

    Lou Faber

  • CHUYU’S MONKEY

    If you ask a true masterto explain enlightenmentto you, if you believehis answer, you are deludedand the master has givenyou a map to the truth.If the master says nothingand you doubt he knowsabout enlightenment, youare deluded and no mapwill set you on the path. A reflection on Case 72 of The Book of Equanimity (従容錄,…

    Lou Faber

  • INSTAHELL OR METAHELL?

    Some might call us linguistic sadistsand it would be difficult to argue that point.We take a perverse joy in torturing language,as though trying to make it agree with whatwe imagine it should do in our delusional world.And I am willing (and quite able) to lay someof the blame on social media, that baneof modern existence…

    Lou Faber

  • RIDING A TIDAL WAVE

    For how long had he been staring?He didn’t know, didn’t need to,time had ceased to matter,carried off on the gravitational tide.He had been walking for daysto get to this place, each stepa new beginning, each going nowhere.He knew he might seek solace here,knew he could never leave,here, now, was his ancestral home.There was a succulence…

    Lou Faber

  • A PASSION

    I don’t know just whatmoment it was when wantingbecame desire, wishingblazed into passion butfor nothing in particular,so if I found it I mightwell not know what I had.None of this was lovemuch was likely delusion,but passion consumes logicand returns only ashes.I am older now, passionhas grown softer aroundit’s edges, but it remainsconsuming like a fine…

    Lou Faber

  • THE SURANGAMA SCRIPTURE’S NOT SEEING

    It happens every day,when I arise from the cushionand look, I see myself there.If you look, you say you see me as well.It will happen one daythat when I arise from the cushionand look I will not see myself.If you look, you will say you see me,and I will nod in agreement.Each day when I…

    Lou Faber

  • MASTER MA IS UNWELL

    Yesterday is but a shadowand tomorrow an illusion.Do not wallow in the mudof attempted memory, donot sink in the mireof deluded anticipation.Stop, listen to the sunand the moon singof the Dharma, hearthe silence it bringsfor you are alivein this moment,and there isno other momentin which you can live. A reflection on Case 3 of the…

    Lou Faber

  • NO HARRY

    There is no Houdini today, nomaster of escapology, only sleightof hand that cannot providea release from our self-made shackles, for we havefailed to learn the secretsthat might have saved us.We were stubborn, figured thatwe could solve the problem later,read a book, looked to a new masterbut those new masters have onlyperfected the art of illusion…

    Lou Faber