Ah, the pleasures of illusion!

//Ah, the pleasures of illusion!

Ah, the pleasures of illusion!

Fabulous October morning bathed in sun, and in the garden the wet grass bathes my bare feet in what’s left of night. The cat stays with me a moment, then trots off to her own secret frontiers.
Seems we’ve been granted another reprieve from the inexorable descent of summer. Ah, the pleasures of illusion! The season is always changing, both slipping away and bursting forth, slipping away as it bursts forth and bursting forth as it slips away. It has no time and its own time. As do I, as do you, as does each petal and leaf.

I’ve been reading Hugo’s Les Misérables these days, marvelously steeped in the timeless saga of ignorance and misery, of love and hope, of Paris nearly 200 years ago. Is ours a better world? A changed city? Ah, the pleasures of illusion! The seasons change, indeed, as do the maps and modes of transport, but not a thousand inexhaustible delusions fueling our human follies. Nor the undying basic goodness of bodhisattvas like Jean Valjean.

By | 2017-04-04T06:58:19+01:00 octobre 8th, 2010|Textes|0 Comments

About the Author:

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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.

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