an old writer and his words

  • MORNING

    Morning would find him sitting calmly, cross-legged, under the apple tree that sat on the edge of the park. He would stare up at a small branch and carefully watch 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,…

    Lou Faber

  • 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.

    Lou Faber

  • 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,…

    Lou Faber

  • ANOTHER VISIT TO SHOBOGENZO

    YANGSHAN’S NO ENLIGHTENMENT Within nothing there are all things, within all things there is nothing. The Buddha asks in your binary electronic world how can I count on you to survive if zero is taken from you.   NANYUE POLISHES A BRICK There is no reason to sit zazen, it is worthless yet it cannot be…

    Lou Faber

  • ANGELIC

    The Buddha said we could all sit comfortably on the head of a pin in perfect knowledge and you would never see us, but if we danced, our music would deafen you.

    Lou Faber