Nothing special

//Nothing special

Nothing special

All quiet on Indian summer night as a car rumbles by in the street outside and the dishwasher hums in the kitchen.
A lot of coming and going out there; and probably a lot in here, too.
Someone asked me awhile ago what I had done today. Funny, but I couldn’t really say, although I did say what I had done: two appointments, meals, shopping for groceries, laundry, a few conversations, two newspapers read…
Nothing special. And yet it didn’t feel like nothing special when it was « being done. »
I realize now as I write the words that just being done, nothing special was special.

By | 2015-10-02T16:11:52+01:00 septembre 24th, 2011|Textes|3 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.

3 Comments

  1. Tu es cela 3 octobre 2011 at 10 h 20 min - Reply

    In fact, life is "special" whether we see it or not!

  2. Jay Uhdinger 29 septembre 2011 at 11 h 58 min - Reply

    Seeing the special in the not special things in life is a gift that makes life special 😉

  3. litle lake 26 septembre 2011 at 0 h 00 min - Reply

    it was real
    it was there
    it was present
    it was life
    then
    just being lived

    the essence of life is incomprehensible
    just when we want to grasp it – it disapears…
    into real grasping…

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