It’s Monday. And so? And so the activity that has « occupied » me for nearly a week has come to an end.
For five days, I participated in the Salon Zen in Paris, a teeming marketplace of seekers and sellers. It was a souk, with stand after stand of goods on display. A brisk trade ensued. And there we stood at our stand, with nothing but a book or two to sell.
Yet there we were, in the middle of the seekers and sellers, no different than them. All those individuals wandering through the maze of merchandise moved me immensely. To whomever asked, I offered a reply.
An old man shuffled up to our stand, studied our documents, slipped one or two into his plastic sack full of documents. « Zen comes from Japan, » he almost mumbled, glancing up so that our eyes met for just a second as I said, « Yes. » No other words were needed. He then turned and shuffled slowly off.
Everyday was filled with such exchanges, not of money and goods but of what resides in our hearts.
Filled with exchanges
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À propos de l'auteur : zenscribe
Enseignante Zen et poète, Sensei Amy “Tu es cela” Hollowell est née et a grandi à Minneapolis, aux Etats-Unis. Arrivée en France en 1981 pour étudier la littérature et l’histoire, elle y est restée, s’installant à Paris, où elle élève ses deux enfants et gagne sa vie en tant que journaliste.
The Zen teacher and poet Amy “Tu es cela” Hollowell Sensei was born and raised in Minneapolis, but came to France in 1981 to study literature and history and has lived in Paris ever since, raising her two children and making a living as a journalist.
Me 🙂
So many? How about just one? And who is that?
"We’re all in this together. That’s what was so apparent, so poignant, standing there for hours each day in the middle of the hungry hearts."
How can you feed so many hungry hearts/ghosts?
If I was a zen-sales-person, we’d all be in trouble here!
I don’t even say "please sit down." I just respond to whatever arises.
In that marketplace of seekers and sellers, the sellers were seeking, too, and the seekers were selling, too.
I was invited to participate in the salon, and I chose to honor that invitation. I chose to answer the call with no clue who was calling. And although I truly had nothing to sell, I was/am no better or worse than the others, than anyone anywhere.
We’re all in this together. That’s what was so apparent, so poignant, standing there for hours each day in the middle of the hungry hearts.
A market-place of seekers and sellers; how does our practice fit in there?
I thought of a marketing-slogan:
“Life is a party, and meditation is the ultimate party-drug.”
Sounds attractive enough? Ha!
But whenever I seriously try to imagine what it must be like to be in your position; to be a teacher or a zen-sales-person; I am always puzzled.
I wouldn’t know how to continue after “welcome” and “please sit down”.
Okay: “Zen comes from Japan”.
The old man would have done a better job then me.