Have been off in the North Sea, on a windswept island, in an unending swirl of the 10,000 things, studying with my teacher’s teacher and the extended Great Maha Sangha.
Thus, my silence here.
« There’s no language that isn’t the Dharma, » Bodhidharma said in his Wake-Up Sermon.
And why is it this island is called Amyland?
Is it for its merciless winds and sharp sands that cut the flesh from our bones ?
Or is it for her soft dunes sleeping in the evening sun ?
It can’t be for the thousands of loud tourists she attracts and who every summer ruin her peaceful beaches, can it?
Ting