At the Edge of The Sitting Practice

What the three strokes of the singing bowl at the edge of silent sitting teach me,

The way they baptize the moment, the way they bless the present, the way they sanctify the entire universe, as the sound pierces the layers of my being to surround my heart, the way none of this really happens, the way all of this happens before and after the strokes on the bowl,
revealed by the bowl,

The way nothing is more important, and all of this is unimportant…

…I can’t really write it down, if I write it down, it is no more,
if I don’t write it down, it remains, without ever having truly been,
if I hadn’t written it down so long ago, would it ever have been heard?

What these three strokes teach me, I could not write,
Yet there is nothing else I wish to say, nothing else that deserves to be said.

©FJ June 2025
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