It's a new day. Can't let this marvelous moment go by without a word or two. Obama's election brings tears of joy to my eyes in front of the computer at 5:30 a.m. My country's capacity to reinvent itself by picking this wise and inspiring man to lead it moves me more than any political [...]
The art of Zen is none other than the art of life. As Brando so aptly noted, Hamlet's soliloquy, Act III, Scene 2, says it all: "Let your own discretion be your tutor. Suit the action to the word, the word to the action, with this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of [...]
A conference at the Cinémathèque was billed as "A cinema lesson," given by the actor/director/counterculture hero Dennis Hopper. It ends up being Hopper just chatting about Hopper and his (famous) buddies. Not much about the art of cinema. A few film clips. He wows the audience by crying as a demonstration of "method acting." I'm [...]
Afternoon is in its final retreat. Evening is enveloping the city. Today I went out for an appointment, ran errands, then returned. Soon, after cooking, I'll be leaving again. The best place is always where I am, nothing finer. A traditional Zen story: Crossing a marketplace, Banzan overheard a conversation between a butcher and his [...]
It's a quiet night now after the busy day. I see I'm anticipating more of that dailyness in the week ahead. Is that what I want? As Joyce said, "I'm like a blind man walking in the street. I trip on something and when I bend down to pick it up, I discover it's exactly [...]
Question from a colleague: How can I make the benefits of practice remain with me throughout my day at the office? That is, how can I not become caught up in the tensions and frictions of (the working) life? He then says that according to the Dalai Lama, "Buddhism" as such cannot "succeed" as such [...]
Boundlessness, the Heart Sutra says, is the nature of all things. The limits, too, are limitless. That is, I am not limited by the limits of my boundless body. I go to sleep at night, or I am sleepless, and I wake in the morning, ready or not.
A runny nose has caught up with me in this season of fading away. The sidewalks in Paris are paved with a golden dropping off. One by one, every leaf is a sudden fall. As Joshu said: "A clay buddha does not pass through water. A gold buddha does not pass through a furnace. A [...]
It's Friday night. They're still taking sides across the Atlantic. Which calls for more from Vimalakirti: "Therefore, Shariputra, if one would be a seeker of the dharma, one must not seek it in anything at all." Or, I might add, seek it everywhere.
Autumn now. Day remains broad, but under threat of darkness (everything is illuminated by the hang of it) there is constantly no way out: The universe is everywhere at this very sliver of a moment.