Taiji

Taiji March 22, 2011

It is ancient but not old.

The Taoist master Chuang Tzu

first spoke of it in the 3rd century

BC as the Great Ridgepole that holds

the Unseeable Tent of the Universe

open. Around which we dance. Trying

to leave it. Always coming back. Within

a hundred years it was known as Tai Chi.

In the Tang Dynasty an unknown poet

spoke of life as swinging on the Great

Ridgepole. Hundreds of years later, a

Spanish poet said that meeting another

in mid-swing is the wonder of love. After

living through monsoons, a Hindu master

said that we move until we tire into stillness.

Then we are still till we grow impatient to

move. One blossoms into the other. In

that blossoming we become wakeful.

In such moments we are the bubbles

carried by water, the blue within the heart

of every flame, the aliveness sleeping inside

every ache. It is ancient but not old. Meet

me at the Ridgepole. We can take our

turn swinging around eternity.

"Monet was nearsighted and painted what he saw."

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