The poet and punk rocker Jim Carroll (famous for writing The Basketball Diaries) died on Friday at the age of 60. He lived hard and fast, died young and fast. He was wild and free and often scared the shit out of me. He was raw and on the edge, a junkie staring into the [...]
In the rue Daguerre again today, passed the old books/new accessories shop. I see stenciled on the window: commerce equitable. When "hungry ghost" "delusion" is transformed, it becomes equanimity. An enriching presence. Maybe next time I'll go inside.
This story in the newspaper tonight: "In the past five years, companies and workplaces have violated pollution laws more than 500,000 times. But most polluters have escaped punishment." And my sitting practice in recent days has been to remember and experience with each breath that we are all breathing the same air. In other words, [...]
A telling tale from the realm of hungry ghosts: In the middle of summer, a small used-book shop on the Left Bank, in the rue Daguerre, announced that it would be closing. The owner said he had no choice but to close; he couldn't sell enough second-hand books to make a living and pay the [...]
Colleagues are ordering out for coffee this morning. I decline; I don't drink coffee, only tea. Someone says he only drinks coffee as a distraction. That's why everyone drinks coffee, I say, or tea, for that matter. Someone else objects; no, it's a drug, he says. Yes, I say, and drugs are a distraction, a [...]
Last night in the garden, back after sitting, after the joy of picking up new where we had left off weeks - an eternity - ago, there between branches heavy with leaves, the bright moon fails to hide what it cannot: itself. This morning, where the moon once rose, now thin clouds are spread, cast [...]
La pratique recommence à partir du 7 sept. à Paris Les lundis soirs (Mondays), 20h-22h méditation et entretiens (interviews) avec Amy Sensei 4 Passage Courtois 75011 Paris (porte gauche, interphone 'maison', dernière étage) Tél. 06 10 87 82 19 (Joa/Delphine) Les vendredi soirs (Fridays), 19h30-21h méditation et enseignement (talk) avec Amy Sensei Red Earth Centre [...]
Newspaper work all day. Arriving in early afternoon, a colleague says, I wonder how many people died in Afghanistan today. Later, at home in my room, I notice that outside the window the sky is a stunning blue. Then I wonder when was the last time I sat. It occurs to me that sitting, what [...]
Word reaches me by email at my office this afternoon: Willow the blind cat died this morning in Normandy. I can't remember a thing about that instant only hours ago, which distinguishes it from the many other instants before, after and all around. Everything was as if stopped. The cat touched me unthinkably. She was [...]
Late afternoon. I'm sitting in an armchair in the back garden, under the overhang, watching the wind whip the world to and fro. Above the tree line, the sky veers from pale gray back to the marvelous blue that it was only an hour or so earlier. The earth spins us away - clouds thick [...]