an old writer and his words

  • THE WEIGHT OF MOURNING

    The weight of mourning defies precise measurement,and all of the rules of mathematics fail in an attempt.Grief rejects being placed on scales, there is nevera moment of pure equilibrium, only a teeteringthat always threatens to bring it all down in a heap.A million who are nameless and faceless is an agonyand yet eighty thousand with…

    Lou Faber

  • ONE FLAVOR ZEN

    How far must you wanderto taste the pure essence,hear the pure note,see deeply into beauty,smell the first flower of spring,touch another heart.Will you grow tiredfrom standing stillin total silencecontemplating this? A reflection on Case 65 of Dogen’s Shobogenzo Koans (Trud Dharma Eye)

    Lou Faber

  • SLEEVE

    I wear my hearton my sleeve, he said,so you know what I’mfeeling at any given momentand I am an open bookso you can read my thoughtswhenever you wish to do so. His smile said he wasproud of this state,and he did say it sethim apart from most people. She laughed and saidto him, “But you…

    Lou Faber

  • FAMILY

    You ask me to define what family isand I tell you that I may bethe last person you wantanswering that question, Ian adoptee who felt likean orphan supplantedby siblings who knew her womb. But I do have an answer,family is that insane personwho will drive six hoursto spend an hour with you,family is the joy…

    Lou Faber

  • OF THE SEASONS

    In the heart of winter, then,which seemed unendingI would stare out at the maplesbarren branches piledin ever tottering snowand dream of palm treesand a warm ocean breeze. In heart of winter now,such as it is, all I seeare endless palms andmany Southern Live Oaks,their branches piledunder a heavy burdenof sagging Spanish Mossand I dream of…

    Lou Faber

  • SNOW

    At first it was just oddto think of snow as merelya concept, a memory softer,more pleasant than its reality. You can grow accustomedto concepts, they are generallysomewhat neat and tidy, easilyfiled and brought forth on demand. The concept of snow hasits great advantages, snowmenof perfect shape, never meltingand no one must shovel a concept. But…

    Lou Faber

  • RUSHING IN

    Step right up, don’t hang back,come and watch the fool perform for you.You know me, bedecked in motley emotionsworn like so many colorful rags,a suit of too many shades and hues,all displayed for your entertainment.See if you can find ten shades of angeras I prance around in front of you.Count the five flavors of tearsthat…

    Lou Faber

  • FINDING PEACE

    It wasn’t lost on me, mother, that this yearon the anniversary of death, you had been goneeighteen years, Chai in your beloved Hebrew,a lifetime for me, having never met yousave in the half of my genes you implantedin me when I was implanted in you. As you aged, alone, did you wonder whatbecame of the…

    Lou Faber

  • EYES HAVE IT

    It is the eyes that fall in love,the heart that follows likean always faithful shadow,and the mind and reason thatare bound to darkness and silence. That is what I learned in my dreamlast night, or my recollection of it, for dreamsmay fade in the sharp light of morning. But dreams have a potent magic, a…

    Lou Faber

  • GANTO’S MEAL 鐵笛倒吹 語十四

    When you visit a teacherinquire what he needsand freely offer him a meal,but ask nothing in return,if you pester himhe will greet youwith a blow of the stick. Come to him silentlywith an open heartand with empty handsand the Dharmawill be transmitted. A reflection on case 54 of the Iron Flute Koans

    Lou Faber