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ATOP THE POLE 無門關 四十六
Sitting atop a hundred foot pole you are convinced there are only two directions: pole and down. Old Osho asks: “How will you proceed?” and you stare back at this lunatic. “How will you proceed?” he repeats. You release the pole and step slowly away, looking in all ten directions before you, only then do…
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KINKA’S ANCIENT MIRROR
A river may rub a stone until it reflects the morning sun. A jeweler may polish it and facet it until it shatters the light in ten directions. A wise man knows it is still the same stone. A reflection on Shobogenzo Case 117
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STATUS QUO
It does so little good to wonder why things are not as I wish them as they should be as they seem to me as they once were. Things always are, either more nor less,…
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FISHING
Many years ago, I would sit in a small boat and drop my hook into the river, and wait for the bass to strike. Those were the days when a large enough fish would be served at dinner, and smaller fish were thrown back to heal in the water. I no longer fish but the…
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DUAL SINGULARITY
Stare at white sand surrounding the polished stone, listen to the earth. The stone knows no pain falling to the pond’s bottom, ripples comfort it.
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IMPERMANENCE
In this moment there is, and can be, no other. And when the moment is gone it never existed, much as the next will never exist. So it is with us, a reflection of the ripple of the long sunk stone now nestling the bottom of the pond.
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ERGO SUM
She says she was certain she exists much as she is certain he exists as well. He says she thinks she exists, and thinks he does as well. Descartes, he says was right, at least on that point. She says no, it is obvious, thoughts requires existence, sum ergo cogito, she says, is how it…
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RIPPLE
In this moment there is, and can be, no other. And when it is gone it never existed, much as the next will never exist. So it is with us, a reflection of the ripple of the long sunk stone now nestling the bottom of the pond.
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ALBERT AND I
Time folds in on itself, the arrow bends, grows recursive we lapse slowly backward slipping into a protean state. Our universe is neatly bisected, the inner workings laid open showing craftsmanship far beyond our meager comprehension, as we cling to the surface, fear sliding deep into its depth, spiral freely in infinite progression, slowing, approaching…
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ENTER EXITS
He says doors and windows are to enable us to come within, to be safe from all that is outside, to make this space a sanctuary. She says windows and doors are to allow us to merge with the sky, taste the river, and sing songs taught us by the moon. The doors and windows…
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an old writer and his words 