an old writer and his words

  • WALLS

    Someoneonce suggestedthat if you builda ten foot wallsomeone will bringan eleven foot ladder. I have alwayswanted to taketo the sky freelyand not in somemetal sarcophagus,to be a birdwithout limitationsbut all I have is an eightfoot ladderand I amstill afraidof heights.

    Lou Faber

  • ON THE WALL

    Each morning, once I have completedthe often unpleasant task of draggingmyself from the womb of blankets, I makemy appearance in front of the mirror. I stare closely into it, and am unsurprisedto find it returning my stare,and on every occasion, I noticethat the mirror has once againchosen to wear the same clothes as I,albeit not…

    Lou Faber

  • FORMAL PROOF

    First Proposition: You were put upfor adoption because your birthparents couldn’t or didn’t want to raise you. Second Proposition: We or I adopted youbecause I wanted you and not anotherand to give you the good life you deserved. Argument: Given all of the possiblealternatives, you ought to be thankfulthat we saved you from that other…

    Lou Faber

  • TOUCH

    I would reach out in touch you but as it is my fingers barely reach the keyboard. I would take your picture the next time I see you, but it would appear instantly, no waiting for someone to tell me as you were merely a blurred image appearing days later pulled from an envelope. Perhaps…

    Lou Faber

  • IN THE BREACH

    There is little you can do about it, less that you want to do, although they are not pleased with your decision. Remind them that they are the ones that left the decision to you, mostly in the hope you would do what they hoped, taking them off the hook, but they now realize they…

    Lou Faber

  • SEKITO’S ASK THE PILLAR 正法眼蔵 四十一

    If you want an answer do not ask a question – your answer cannot be mine nor can mine be yours. Instead, ask the stone wall, it has nothing to say and in its perfect silence all questions are asked and all answers are found. A reflection on Case 41 of the Shobogenzo, Dogen’s True…

    Lou Faber

  • THREE

    Ginkgo trees laden with leaves fanning the dawn sun Seeds lie in waiting The morning bell sounds the monks pause from their labors Buddha sits zazen The wall does not move only the breath is moving count it carefully

    Lou Faber

  • QIANFENG’S “THREE TYPES OF SICKNESS”

      When you assume the mat and gaze at the wall, what is it you see? If you see nothing, what do you think? If you are certain that you see nothing, that is what you think. Do not see, do not think, and let the cushion fall away until the moment you no longer…

    Lou Faber

  • SETTLING

    The old, weathered maple leans into the sun, its trunk stroking the cobbled cottage which sits against the foothill. The square window peers out over a wildflower garden as the roof’s peakline settles comfortably into old age. Walking around it I see the back roof has collapsed the back wall ever threatening to return to…

    Lou Faber

  • CUSHION

    He sits on the cushion staring through hooded eyes at the wall in front of him. He expects exactly nothing to happen, expects there to be no sound within his mind, only what happens without, expects that time will cease for him, or will at least cease to matter. He is not disappointed. The bell…

    Lou Faber