Imagine the house you’re in, the one that serves as the framework for your entire existence, where you built your life, your person, your family…
Étiquette : time
Zazen Is Nothing
Zazen during the day is the hub of the wheel.It is nothing, but without the sitting practice, nothing ever comes together.Inactivity gives way to activity.Without
Final Rest
Zen masters, patriarchs of yesteryear, when they felt the hour of death approaching, would enter zazen and welcome in the posture the echo of their
Nothing New
There is nothing I say that hasn’t already been said,I have no interest in that,Not a hair of a dog in the fight. I’m not
Amputating The Soul
Prayer is, in essence, an act of harmonization between the practitioner and reality, the universe, deep nature, God.It is the practitioner’s response to the constant
Psychological Threshold of Sitting
In the practice of zazen, there is a psychological dimension… this is absolutely necessary in that it constitutes a modality, if not of refining, of
Salat Zazen
On evenings like this evening, I can say that in truth, as soon as the practitioner reaches a certain level of depth, the form that
Spreading the Cloth of Consciousness
It is only in Zazen that I find the space to spread the cloth of our deep nature,The cloth of consciousness, because zazen has made
Disbelief-Punishment (1/2)
« Those who have not believed will suffer a vile torment »The torment is not to believe, not to see.This type of statement is often perceived as
Space Tablecloth
Across the different traditions, deist spiritual practices seem more polarizing than others, such as the ball that we see on the representation of space as
Fall On The Surface
The primordial fall of man is due to a reversal of the hourglass of his being.He operates a reversal of his inner universe.Thus, man falls
This Corpse
By the light — from the lampshade on the ceiling that strikes both my face and the glass in a mirror screen, I can observe
Already Dead
If I look deeply at the people I meet,everyone I interact with,All these people are actually already dead.Worse: they never really existed. Their moving bodies
Bubble Abyss
I contemplate all the bubbles in the water that come fizzing from the bottom of my glass to die on the surface by the hundreds,
Gardening
I see those articles as seeds, out-of-time compact flashes,I plant them in the fields of blank pages. The furrows of the pen pulled by my
Notes & Silence 