The tent in the morning and the wet grassMy foot stopping suddenly. In the evening, going to the cabin,My foot, rubbing dry earth, still teaching
The tent in the morning and the wet grassMy foot stopping suddenly. In the evening, going to the cabin,My foot, rubbing dry earth, still teaching
I place my inner finger on a psychological bias, at the root of great suffering, of irremediable loneliness, of deep despair.We have a natural, extremely
Our instability, our anxiety pushes us – observe it – to notice. The awareness of the moment is the awareness of our inability to live
At a certain stage, the practitioner becomes aware of the great complexity of phenomena, a complexity such that it makes any attempt at dissection completely
As soon as this phenomenon hits the spiritual life of the person, then a whole stratum, a set of strata falls apart. The collapse is
Sitting never ceases to reveal this: the calm behind the curtain on which your mind makes the conceptual decorum of religions’ dances, Silent sitting is
Before the embers of God ignite the whole worldThe universe holds its breathAll illusions slip inAll the chaos is waitingTo exhaust the mess… Franck –
To those who fear that the fangs of the ego will bite their flesh should they ever find themselves in the status of a spiritual
A poor modality of consciousness,rich in teaching for whom has educated one’s gaze, is that of stage performance. Component potentially present in everyone, it is
Our modern, technological, ego-centered, Promethean world, This world of permanent static, frying, where you always have to have something wriggling in the pan of your
The devil, etymologically, is the one who divides, who dis-unites,the one who « gets in the way » of the road, In doing so, he splits the
Water is a vector of information.It is the liquid manifestation of this principle, before our eyes and in our bodies/souls. What is decisive is the
When others spend their time locking me into their narrow representations,I strive very hard to satisfy no one.Someone has to teach them, right? ©FJ April
The kesa for the way,The way of the inside, the call of being, that is all.The kesa, as a piece of fabric,No use. At certain
Passing through the world,Already dislocated, stretched, vaporous,I open my eyes and nothing is anymore. Judgments, reflexes of identities,Have disappeared, they have lost all interest. ©ndraw@protonmail.com