Sitting zazen, I sometimes delve into my brother’s meander.If there ever has been anything magic in the practice, there it is.Doing this, I find the
Sitting zazen, I sometimes delve into my brother’s meander.If there ever has been anything magic in the practice, there it is.Doing this, I find the
Poetry,The poetic mind,Can also be a sensibility which ends up penning the poet in spiritual drowsiness.From that point, the poetically inclined mind will dig to
Cruel words are not so for whom pronounces them. Therefore the angry, anxious or frustrated speaker should never be blamed, nor should he be the
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,
‘This little light of mineI’m gonna let it shine’ With such a fragment of lightSet ablaze in our inner tubeA result of a supple moveUnfurled
The sea had recededOnce again, she found herself stranded on the sandbank of the weekend. Soon enough, a wave swelling from the horizon will come
Guilt often fulfills a concealed function :-It covers our intention not to change. Any action, word or even thought regretted with guilt may be the implementation
From the hearth of tensionCatching a glimpse of stillness From the sputtering surface frothRemembering the depths Amid the impossible practiceSitting Zazen Franck Joseph©FJ Jan 2021-
The ball has bounced on my side of the netAnd I’ve hit it back.In a snap, I kept the game going.The only thing I had
Imagine that, by inserting a plug upside down and inverting polarities, devices would then functionTherefore, vacuum cleaners would start expelling air through their pipes. We
Zazen counts years backwardsSitting soflty sands sediments off our eyes Dogen mentioned that time flowed from the present to the past.What his vision was, as
Zazen : Just sitting, up against the wall, and entering the unexpected space to survive.Free diving through existenceIs a frustrating experience for the adventurous spirit
The writing process is never complex. This does not mean anything.The complexity lies in the processes that the writer describes, not in the writing itself.
The long-awaited friendDoesn’t know himself as such.He simply walks to me,Breaches the awkward silenceBetween me and the world,And serves my soul The long-awaited words. Franck
Lord, may you grant me a lifeOf wealth and abundanceFreedom and humilityAllow me to understandThere is no life to expectOther than the one expecting us.