Systems and ideologies may as well disappear and engulf their share of books, titles, credentials, and words.
The grace of the encounter, the appointment with The One that was waiting for us just there, that is always waiting for us right here and now…
Discovering that the moment we thought we were completely lost is in reality the moment we had been waiting for all along.
It is the treasure chest of the Buddha.
We are always sitting on a coffer of happiness and joy, but we can’t see it.
The encounter happens with the collapse of the tarmac ground under our feet, to bring us back on the sand.
This journey home is always in the now, never due to ourselves, never the result of our action.
One hand holding the incense stick,
The other approaching the candle.
Pure grace,
Beauty without word.
Notes & Silence 