Still digging out old posts….from earlier sitting sessions, back in 2016. I recently bumped into someone I had never met before.Someone I know more than
Still digging out old posts….from earlier sitting sessions, back in 2016. I recently bumped into someone I had never met before.Someone I know more than
A trail of thoughtsOn which I walkThousands of milesOf pure brain-madeFabric-ationWoven mind-terialBehind and around usEven becoming usCovering the whole worldAnd everybody elseA trail of thoughtsWe
Spirituality : The way up, out of our misery.Art, here, can be spiritual.Art, literature, craftsmanship, daily life in general : anything landing between our hands,
Again, this is an old post I dug out and dusted out while preparing the next book… It is not because we communicate on a
Whatever the situation we’re always doing what we consider to be the best adjustment, the most suitable adaptation, considering our inner balance and it’s potential
Our human nature is beautiful.It often comes out unrecognizable, clumsy, illusion-driven…To the trained eye, no detour : the covering layers successively come undone to reveal
Thought is a tiny fly…It’s overexcited, voracious and insatiable. The mere beginning of the furthest of any approaching sound gets it flying all over us.
According to the Sutra,Where there is strength, drive, enthusiasm, vigor,There is awakening. These are various possible translations to the Virya Paramita (The Perfection of Energy).There
This life, desensitizedLiterally degenerates,Off-track, astrayGuided by Entropy AlmightyUnder mechanical grindersOf Time. Does it dilute on purpose ?Does it have, eventually, not to beAnyone left to
What is paramount is to perceive the sameness of teachings behind the various talks and ‘reports’ made available by mystics or masters.The lexical packaging is
This is not a literary commentary, nor some hermeneutic content.To say the truth, I have not read the entire text et, at this very moment,
Again, this is a old post I’m pulling out from under the pile as I am currently editing the next book…I’ve decided to give it
Very old note, among scribbles at the bottom of digital boxes 🙂 Really, the greatest gift we can offer someone is space (Thich Nhat Hanh)
This life, intense, the life that goes to the teenage headThis, life, boundless and explosive, the life moving the child running in laughter, This life,
When the wood pencil is so short,That it threatens to disappear On every stroke, on every letter, Where has its former body gone ?Is it true