The tops of clouds that no one sees illuminated by the sun. The inside of the heart that no one sees softened by the soul. The warmth waiting at the center of all silence. The calm waiting at the center of all feeling. The coolness waiting at the bottom of a lake. The emptiness waiting at the bottom of all ideas. The first sign of light that stirs small birds to sing. The wordless beginning that awakens those encumbered to... Read more
A large demon appeared in the village one day. Out of fear, the blacksmith poked its cheek with his hot iron and the demon ate him. With the wound on his face, the demon seemed scarier. All the men started to carry weapons. This made the demon more cunning and more ferocious. Two brothers decided to hunt the demon. One was a dancer. The other, a butcher. When they found the demon, the dancer distracted it with his dance, while... Read more
Don’t be harsh with yourself. The oar hits a rock and splits. We find a branch offered by the storm and carve another. The tongue hits a falsehood and burns. We baptize our lips slowly in the truth and learn to say yes, one more time. Even with our eyes closed, the sun is near. Even with our wounds healing, the heart, hooded like a falcon, is ready to fly. Read more
Imagine climbing stairs made of water to a doorway of light, through which we both leave ourselves and find ourselves. This is the moment of unity that musicians and artists and lovers know when they give themselves completely to their music and their art and to what they love. Read more
I was in a circle of those who climbed from the sea of their lives onto the shore of a day like today. We were tired, alive, aglow, broken. And out of a sudden silence a young woman stood and sang You’ve Got a Friend and when she voiced, “You just call out my name… and I’ll be there…” I saw you all. No vow has meant more to me. Yet there was the time I couldn’t get there. And... Read more
And there, in the half-light, the one song beneath our names kept the last note in the air longer and the night opened and without a word, we loved each other… Consider the nature of a flute as a metaphor for how experience carves its holes in us, all for the chance to have the breath of life pass through us and make music in the world. Each being on earth is worn to such a flute, and each of... Read more
My glasses have cracked. Ten days to repair. Without a clear way to see, what will come? Will horses rush out behind the trees? Will I have the courage to ride them? My heart has cracked. No clear way to feel the world. How long to repair? Or is being cracked the repair? Tigers chasing doves are rushing out of me. Read more
Sokuhi (1616-1671) was a Buddhist monk and an accomplished poet and calligrapher. Together with Mokuan (1611-1684) and their teacher Yuan (1592-1673), the three were known in Japan as the “Three Brushes of Ōbaku” (Ōbaku no Sanpitsu). In 1650 at the age of 34, Sokuhi was badly burned while fighting a forest fire near the temple and nearly died from asphyxiation. In the midst of the fire, he was suddenly enlightened. He lived for twenty-one more years. There I was, unsure... Read more
The leaves are inside out. A storm is coming. Who first noticed this? And what is a storm? A disturbed state in the atmosphere. Like the dark cloud I sometimes carry in my head. And why inside out? Is there something in us that wants so badly to be drawn out that it dreams of the storm? There’s a small bird with a yellow stripe across its face found on the east coast of Australia. They say the stripe is... Read more
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... Read more
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