So now after a fine day under blue sky and radiant sun it’s evening.
I accomplished my daily tasks, at work and at home and in between, trying to listen unconditionally to the sounds of the world and my heart.
Deep pink tulips that I was given on Saturday are drooping deeply, ending their run of life in a humble swoop. I’m sorry and yet I’m glad. How wonderful!
The news from Japan is of contaminated food and water, unfit for babies. And the rest of us? Today a cloud of unknowing filled with possibly toxic emissions has made its way halfway around the world and passes overhead.
I wonder where the edge of that cloud is, where it begins and ends.
I wonder what is toxic and what is not.
More bombs are dropped on Libya, more shots fired.
A bomb explodes in Jerusalem, troops fire on protesters in Syria.
Liz Taylor died. And millions of other people, too. And millions were born, too.
Is this the last day or the first? Or something in between?
I notice daylight gives way to darkness a bit later tonight, the earth spinning on.
Looking for the edge
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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.
our selfconsciousness trying to solidify ourself.
last week i had a discussion with someone about guilt.
Someone said: there is allways guilt involved where there is separation in on way or an other.
And then we might ask, "What (and where) is our mind?"
The nuclear treath reminds us nothing exists on its own.
Nuclear technicians are trying to protect the world for a nuclear catastrophe – in time payed with their lives – for they all get much to much radioactivity… and they know…
Not a thing exists on its own – it is just our favorite ilusion…
I am a teacher. But without my students i am not. They say i give them a lot. They are mistaken. When i look at them – they give me the words that are needed to say. Not a thing is ours.
Looking for the edge –
Would Hui Neng say it is not here or this neither that or there – it is (in) our mind?