I set out this morning with my large dictionary to find the perfect word to describe the sky, the sun just peering over the roof of a distant house, the few clouds aflame in a silent fire.
I knew there was a word for what I saw in the dictionary, for there is a word for everything if you search long and hard enough, but after a while I gave up when I realized I could no longer recall what I had seen that set me off on this search.
The first one felt right, there was nothing deeper considered, just that feeling that now, I know, anyone might have provided but then, it was something in a world of nothing.
The second, really, was certainly right, for life this time, the wisdom of a single failure enough to ensure success, and when it came apart thirty years later, it was apparent it was never right, just more than nothing.
This one is right, for it does not require feeling so, merely being in her presence, a completeness I never knew, which explains why this time nothing can get in the way of the ultimate everything.
The true self is no-self, and this self is not self, but illusion and delusion, where delusion is enlightenment, and nothing is as it seems for nothing is and only seems and so it is with self, so let go of this self and no-self will appear, though it was always there.
I will, or may see something today that may surprise me. It may reveal itself in aquiet moment, it may be nothing more than a fleeting thought or an image, I am certain. It won’t be brought by Magi nor even magic, though on reflection, it may seem somehow magical. I suspect most will miss its occurrence.
So I will sit and stare into the wall, into my heart, into the universe, trying to find something which is nothing, which is the center, which is everything.
It is a burden he does not want to bear any longer, one he would shed in a moment, but there is no place to put it and you cannot just leave it anywhere. And so he continues to bear it dragging it here, carrying it there, always attached to it, and it to him. He knows there are others who bear far heavier burdens, some with a smile, others begrudgingly. He would gladly take up their burdens, if he could only be relieved of his, but he cannot find anyone to take his, and so he smiles and goes on, for everyone wants something and he has only nothing to offer although that is the greatest gift, for it is the gift of Buddha.
A reflection on Shūmon kattōshū Case 6 – Zhaozhou’s “Drop It”