zenscribe

À propos de 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.

août 2009

Retreat notes, Portugal (I)

Par |2009-08-08T16:44:30+01:00août 8th, 2009|Textes|

A woman tells me on the first night during my introduction instructions that although she didn't know anything about Zen, she came to the retreat because, she said, she told herself that if she didn't like it she could leave. I smiled and said, yes, that is true. I didn't say, however, that this practice [...]

Talk in Portugal, Aug. 3, 2009

Par |2017-04-04T06:58:21+01:00août 3rd, 2009|Textes|

Ritually rich, in and out of order As was requested, I will try to say something about the forms and rituals of this practice. Before that question came up this morning, I had been writing in a new notebook. It has lines on the pages, unlike my previous notebook. Sometimes my notebooks have lines and [...]

juillet 2009

Sit and see

Par |2015-10-02T14:09:46+01:00juillet 31st, 2009|Textes|

Ready to "go" again. Retreat in Portugal this time. After all these years, I still love (or am in love with?) the idea that any number of disparate individuals choose to come together from their very singular lives and sit down as one for awhile. Day after day. And acknowledge that we're all in this [...]

Falls a maple leaf

Par |2017-04-04T06:58:21+01:00juillet 27th, 2009|Textes|

Amid the bustle of worldly affairs, summer is hot and cool, dry and wet, clear and overcast, day and night... I'm like that, too, one activity, another activity, and another... The papers are full of it, and the garden, too, in full bloom, and me. News arrives by phone of a sudden grave illness in [...]

We’ll never be there again

Par |2015-10-02T14:10:55+01:00juillet 21st, 2009|Textes|

Back now from retreat. Return after a week away to find the city relaxed, moving step by step, unbound. Recall the mist on the green morning hills outside my window before a first sitting. Night had been filled with fitful sleep. I drank it all, then turned to dress. The entire week was like that: [...]

To one and all

Par |2015-10-02T14:11:25+01:00juillet 11th, 2009|Textes|

Off for a week, in retreat. Keeping in mind the words of Obaku, one of the ancestors: I don't expect anything. I just bow. And so I do, to one and all.

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