This is a re-post from a 3-year-old article…This article is a free adaptation from the French version: Où la Brume est Brume Clinging to thoughts
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
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.
There are times in a life,Crossroads in the nights,When the energies passing throughCan be upsettingly violent. The practice of Zazen, sitting meditation, Creates conditions for
There is a fundamental equality in the way our mind material is useless.Not a single thought worth being a source of preoccupation,Even though variations in
It is very clear to my eyes, that the underlying power conveying thoughts does not belong to me.When the vertical axis collides with and opens