an old writer and his words

  • LINJI WAS(N’T) HERE

    I very strongly doubt that Linji ever walked along this path, given that it wasn’t even here fifty years ago. He never saw the egret staring back across the pond, or the flock of ibis doing what seem like prostrations. He did not see any of this, which saddens me a great deal, but taking careful steps,…

    Lou Faber

  • PHILOSOPHER’S STONE

    The philosopher sits on a rock overlooking a pond with a single water lily. To defeat your enemy, you must have his mind. To have his mind, you must be him. To be him, you must cast off self-loathing When there is no loathing, he is not your enemy. If you have no enemies, you…

    Lou Faber

  • QUARTET (HAIKU)

    pond’s surface ripples each following another stone hidden from sight the old monk listens to the song of the passing breeze stars sing the refrain Buddha walks the road ignoring all around him each finds a teacher a circular path will take you nowhere quickly again and again

    Lou Faber

  • REFLECTING ON THE HARBOR

    On the anniversary of the start of a war one feels almost compelled to speak to its horrors, its cause, its effect. But we live in an age where wars are plentiful, when peace is the exception and war seems to loom around every corner. So on this anniversary I watch the snowy egret stare…

    Lou Faber

  • STARING AT NIRVANA

    The great blue heron stares at the shirred surface of the pond, paying no attention to the ibis pecking around her, ignoring the traffic passing on the road, pausing now and again to marvel how the humans on foot and in cars cannot see that on a November day the quiet stillness of the water…

    Lou Faber

  • TWO THOUGHTS

      Stare at a still pond, hear the birds “Beedu, Beedu,” now truly listen. . .   Tomorrow is gone, yesterday has disappeared. What moment is this?

    Lou Faber

  • MUGO’S FANCIES 鐵笛倒吹 語十九

    If you stand on the shore of a still pond and toss a stone into its middle the ripples will spread slowly until the water laps your toes. If you stand on the shore of a still pond and toss a ring of the finest gold into the middle, the ripples will spread slowly until…

    Lou Faber

  • 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.

    Lou Faber

  • 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.

    Lou Faber

  • ETERNITY

    In a clockless world all life is an approximation and clear boundaries evaporate like the mist off a morning pond. In that world, this moment seeps into the next, night becomes day, only to return again. The Buddha knew this, for in his clockless world all that existed was the moment, an instant that was, as…

    Lou Faber