You may seek to follow the path of the dove, for a fool knows many roads. You may wrap yourself in fine linen, an infant wears only his skin and knows this moment is already gone.
Think long before you speak of how to walk along the path, of where it leads. The baby says nothing, will not speak of where he has been, where he is going, for to him there is only here, and silence is descriptive enough.
You will, or may see something today that may surprise you. It may reveal itself in a quiet moment, it may be nothing more than a fleeting thought or image, which you are at first uncertain. There won’t be Magi not even magic, though on reflection, it may seem somehow magical. It will happen openly, but most will miss its occurrence. Only the rarest among us will contemplate its revelations, but for those who look too closely it will be an empty feast.
This wave touches the shore just as it should, that wave touches the shore just as it should. You may wait an eternity for a wave that touches but not as it should or you can sit and let the waves wash over you.
He arrived this afternoon, but she stayed only briefly and then departed silently. I did not see her arrive, did not sense his stay but am certain he was there, just as I am certain he has never been here. When she is here, you cannot see her, when she is gone, your memory is a mere delusion, and grasping it is graspng air. Breathing in, the air is his breath, and breathing out the breath is hers, and this is kensho.
He appeared rather suddenly, and didn’t seem to stay very long. Some claimed they knew he was coming, most never saw him arrive, although some said they saw him clearly, that he visited frequently, that they knew his presence unquestionably and spoke to him at some length. She knew there was much wishful thinking and a dearth of reality, but she had come to accept that they got what they seemed so badly to need at no cost to her or any others. But her daughter, seeing all this, could only laugh, for though she might be young, she knew he didn’t appear, he was always there, they just wouldn’t close their eyes and see what every child did.
It seems odd now, that he is here, a place he never intended to be, as it was a place he could not imagine, yet he most certainly was here. If you asked him why he was here, he would answer that he had to be somewhere, and here is where it was, just as your being here is just as it had to be, for you are here. He points to a sign over his palette bed, which simply reads “You Are Here,” and says, I take it everywhere I go and it has never been wrong yet. The bell rings for the evening zazen and as he assumes his place on the mat, the Buddha seems to smile and say to us both, You are where you should be.
If there is but a single moment this one is not the one, and so we shall each of us continue to wait and wonder if the next one is the one, or even the one after that, or one next week. But the real question is, if there is such a moment, whether we’ll know it before it’s gone.