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MORNING MEDITATION
Settling into perfect stillness, each of us in our brown robes on brown chairs, benches, cushions, note his entry is somewhere between the thundering of a forgotten storm or the garbage trucks crawling slowly down the street. Despite the early morning heat there is no breeze, only a large moth comes through the open windows…
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ZAZEN
Soon I will sit and stare into the wall into my heart into the universe and will find something or nothing but the center.
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ZUÒ CHÁN (ALONE AGAIN)
This morning I plucked a thread of silence from the dawn, watched carefully by a cardinal who knew not to break the purity of the moment. I do this as often as I can, sometimes grabbing one from the moon as it sits overhead holding out its promise of quietude as people retreat into homes.…
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BETWEEN
Between now and then, between yesterday and today, between night and day, between birth and death, between good and evil, between heaven and hell, between light and dark, between joy and sadness, our lives occur and we are so seldom there to see it happen, lost in dreams of what never will be.
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ZAZEN
It does nothing, sits there, immobile and this deeply frustrates you. Things are not supposed to be absolutely still, some motion, however small is required. You stare at it, hoping it will move, will shake or lift, or even settle lower but it does nothing. You sit and stare in growing anger absolutely still doing…
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HSIANG LIN’S MEANING OF THE COMING FROM THE WEST
You are certain the key is to sit, for that is what your teacher has told you, that is the practice set out for you. When you feel you have not attained your goal on the path, you assume it is because you have not sat still enough, long enough, deeply enough. A wise sage…
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MORNING, ATTENDANT
Morning would find him sitting calmly, cross-legged, under the apple tree that sat on the edge of the park, staring up at a small branch and carefully watching the bud begin to open, ignoring all who passed. Morning would find him sitting calmly, cross-legged, under the apple tree watching the fragile blossom open, staring at…
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ZAZEN
Soon I will sit and stare into the wall, into my heart,, into the universe, and will find everything and nothing. But the center of nothing, is everything.
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SOTO ZEN
The gong reverberates, its depth hangs in the air, fades like a slowly retreating army. The zafu is at once coarse and caressing, nestling me as I settle down into becoming one with the earth, the zabuton, a fluid translator. The mokugyo’s rhythm lies deep within my chest. The incense settles on my tongue, an acrid sweetness,…
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an old writer and his words 