Out of nowhere, I’ve been hit with a bad head cold. Or so I think it « comes » from nowhere! What a funny notion!
Nonetheless, it’s here. And it’s such a beautiful Indian summer in Paris! My nose is running, my eyes are red. I sneeze and sneeze and sneeze. Nothing extraordinary, the usual symptoms. Yet I found myself doing what I always do: trying to resist it, to fight it off, to keep it out. And as ever, I fail. Which means there’s a moment when it feels like I tip over into a free-fall, and then I’m just sick.
Like the Zen story (Blue Cliff Record, case 3):
Great Master Baso was unwell. Th accountant monk asked him, « How is Your Reverence feeling these days? »
The Great Master said, « Sun-Face Buddha; Moon-Face Buddha. »