an old writer and his words

  • SOZAN’S FOUR DON’TS 鐵笛倒吹 九十二

    You may seek to follow the path of the dove – 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…

    Lou Faber

  • ECHU EXPELS A DISCIPLE 鐵笛倒吹 語十三

    If you come upon Echu napping do not disturb him, but retreat to the zendo or walk in the small garden where enlightenment may be found. If the search is successful leave quickly, tell no one, for it is very fragile and the tongue is sharper than the sword and infinitely more deadly.

    Lou Faber

  • HYAKUJO’S SECOND VISIT 正法眼蔵 語十四

    You may come asking questions, and perhaps the teacher will answer you with a discourse. If you go deaf and hear nothing, if the words flit like so many mayflies just as soon gone, if no word finds purchase, you will have grasped the heart of the Dharma. A reflection on case 54 of the…

    Lou Faber

  • LLANYSTUMDWY

    The small church is tucked alongside the narrow road, its moss encrusted stones bathed in the November sun. The headstones in the churchyard lean askew, sagging under the weight of time. The weeds sprout up answering to a silent call. We are here, they seem to say, to reclaim our own, and we shall do…

    Lou Faber

  • UNGAN’S NOT ANY SINGLE WORD

    The youngest child, her mind uncluttered, can answer any question unburdened by words, and her answers can only rebound across the universe. If you stop struggling to hear her, let the silence surround you both, you cannot escape the answers. A reflection on case 84 of the Shobogenzo (True Dharma Eye)

    Lou Faber

  • KANNON WAITING

    The hermit lives in the shadow of the great mountain listening to the symphony of the bluebird and the wild Rose engulfed by the sky, the meandering stream his constant companion. I live in a city in a sea of city dwellers each of us prisoners marching from cell to cell, with passing nods we…

    Lou Faber

  • 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…

    Lou Faber

  • 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.…

    Lou Faber