I do not do zazen,
I sit
When I am ready to hear, then, I write the words displayed in my mind,
Words are my harvest,
What I bring back with me from the land of sitting,
They are the baskets of fruit arranged along the path.
I do not do zazen,
I sit
When I am ready to hear, then, I write the words displayed in my mind,
Words are my harvest,
What I bring back with me from the land of sitting,
They are the baskets of fruit arranged along the path.
Notes & Silence 
It sounds like you have found clarity – or, at least, more clarity than usual – in silence and stillness.
Whether that is « doing », or is to be classed as « zazen », strikes me as utterly irrelevant.
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A clutching reflex…
spiritual atavism, maybe..
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This is wonderful. From title to yield!
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Thank you very much for reading this.
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