an old writer and his words

  • ISLANDS

    I always loved visiting Japan,the Temples of Senso-ji, Todai-jiothers so small their names fadedas I walked away from them,for while I was gaijin, my zenmade them feel less alien.I enjoyed visits to Hawaii,the lushness of the landscape,the old whaling town, nowreduced to ash and ruin,the lava desert of the big island,the volcanoes, live and dormant.Everyone…

    Lou Faber

  • KYUHO’S HEAD AND TAIL

    If you sit on the cushionthinking it will take youto enlightenmentyou are a fool.Sitting can take younowhere but whereyou are sitting butthat place is whereBuddhas come and go. A reflection on Case 63 of the Book of Equanimity (従容錄, Shōyōroku)

    Lou Faber

  • TOKYO SNAPSHOTS

    In the small yardof the matchbox housethe lone Ginkgotwisted by timefeels the barrennessof winter’s tongueand mournsits solitude. The apartment building looms upover the tracks of the Narita Expressthe balconies are deserted, savefor the laundry which flapsin the morning breeze,slapping with the gustsinto the small satellite dishesbolted to the railings. The ancient trees are twistedand gnarled,…

    Lou Faber

  • WEATHER KARMA

    It never rainedwhen I visited Senso-jiand Todai-ji Temples.I attributed this to goodfortune, the Buddhaclearing the skiesfor my visit.The young monksaid the Buddhacares nothingfor weather, soI should thankthe Japan MeteorologicalAgency although theynever seem to givehim the weatherhe truly wants.

    Lou Faber

  • IN SILENCE

    Sitting in stillness, the silenceis at first shocking, deafeningin a way unimagined but there.Within the lack of sound liesa thousand sounds younever heard in the din of life.You hear the young monk at Senso-jiapproach the great bell and pullback on the log shu-moku, straining.You hear the laugh of school agedchildren hand in hand walking throughthe…

    Lou Faber

  • LOOKING FOR WORDS

    They say a picture is worth a thousand words. Perhaps so, but many pictures don’t travel in verbose company, and there are pictures worth far, far less, although some will search until the magic thousand are found. In Japan a story can be told in seventeen syllables, a picture painted with a single brushstroke. In…

    Lou Faber

  • EFFECT

    The morning was indistinguishable from so many others. Lorenz was taking his morning walk around the pond or lake, it was of that intermediate size that could be either or neither, when in a break with his habit, he sat down on one of the four benches, and stared out over the water. He hadn’t…

    Lou Faber

  • A RETURN SOMEDAY

    Some day I need to returnto Tokyo and walk its streetslistening for the soundtrackthat Haruki Murakami requiresof the city, bebop jazzin Shinjuku, classical whenwandering Asakusa and Senso-ji,and rock on the streets of Shibuya. I have often been there, butmy soundtrack was thatof horns and the clatterof a pachinko parlor, orthe pitched giggles of younggirls walking…

    Lou Faber

  • SENSO-JI

    They crowd the stalls, searchingamid what the Japanese would have to calltchotchkes if they were Jewish. Few bother to see the great Buddhapeereing out of the Buddha hallquestioning their judgment. They could buy their fortunesfor a mere hundred yen coin, but theybelieve it better spent here, This the marketplace formsa phalanx that makes a visitto…

    Lou Faber

  • FLIGHT

    As a young child, I always imaginedmyself a bird, poised to take wingthe next time my parents told meI couldn’t do what I wanted,to swoop around, out of their grasp,until it was time for lunch or dinner. Years later my dream was to bea pilot, Air Force not Navy, I mightget seasick and that isn’t…

    Lou Faber