In zazen, I sit through
passing time,
and through myself sitting
through passing time.
In zazen, I see that time only passes through myself.
In zazen, I sit through
passing time,
and through myself sitting
through passing time.
In zazen, I see that time only passes through myself.
I wonder if the idea of past and future answer to any reality. As if there is only « now », and all else an illusion. The only reality, the observer.
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