This is why I chose the Land of Zen to settle my refuge.
The absence of preliminary beliefs, of non-negotiable ideological bouquet prior to any acceptance of membership.
The absence of conclusions tossed about, to which one must subscribe before initiating any practice, The few directional signs planted in books and speeches are actually stones piled up by hikers.
The Way is One, even if it is crossed by multiple paths.
The absence of time, of a heavy load of stories to carry on the shoulders.
No assembled fabric knitted for Man by Man.
The absence of a psychologically powerful trigger, which one would use to gather the sheep.
No a priori guilt or negotiation, nor exchange in a twisted soul economy.
All the stories and all the psychological patterns play out and unfold during the space-time Sitting.
This simplicity of Zen makes it a child’s practice.
The absence of external projection to a crystallized architecture makes it an adult experience.
By saying « Zen », I mean the practice, the simple sitting. Not makeshift Japanese-ish job.
When I say “Zen”, I mean “the heart”.
The heart of the practice. Zen gives way to silence.
Words have no weight. They float to the surface but cannot assemble in a bulky ship.
The practitioner recognizes the presence of his feet on the path of the bodhisattvas
to the faithfulness of harmonics as they reach asymptotic edge of the universe.
The faintest of all smiles.
– ©FJ Dec 2021
Recueils / Participations
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Notes & Silence 
You have chosen a particular flavour of practice; a particular set of terminology accompanies that.
I have chosen another.
I choose every day. Not always consistently. Always what seems appropriate at the time
Lest I be trapped.
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Do not be fooled by words.
« When I say ‘Zen’, I mean ‘the Heart’.
Intentions matters,
words don’t.
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Words are, however, all we have for communication; particularly in this format. And that carries the danger of fooling ourselves also.
That is one of the potential traps.
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Danger is my middle name.
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Ability to choose is limited until the limitations are noticed and rebellion takes place.
Danger, also, is relative. Most concepts, and such realities as they represent, are so.
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Really? Mine is Heretic. Hello, Danger.
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I just learned the Greek meaning of hairetikos : « able to choose »
Have others been forced?
Are they not wired to choose?
Able as in ‘capable’
Or ‘given the possibility to’ ?
The problem with heresy is that it is a relative notion.
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Beautiful writing
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