Hours and dates advance, from night to morning to afternoon, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, September to October, in an indecipherable flow. Calendar and clock keep the count for me: I believe I can see time and space move!
Activities unfold, my attention floats and holds, floats and holds as I answer a knock at the door, make tea, sort through mail, manage bank accounts, blow my nose, watch the drizzle fall on passers-by. These are the irrational facts of my experience.
In the newspaper this morning there is a photograph of the president and his men in shiny black shoes, blue ties, dark well-cut overcoats, among a gathering of notables in some provincial city yesterday. The headline says Sarkozy wants to mark his territory. What territory? Who?
Once a student asked a teacher, « What is the Body of space? »
The teacher replied, « Your old teacher is underneath your feet. »
Underneath your feet
About the Author: zenscribe
Enseignante Zen et poète, Sensei Amy “Tu es cela” Hollowell est née et a grandi à Minneapolis, aux Etats-Unis. Arrivée en France en 1981 pour étudier la littérature et l’histoire, elle y est restée, s’installant à Paris, où elle élève ses deux enfants et gagne sa vie en tant que journaliste.
The Zen teacher and poet Amy “Tu es cela” Hollowell Sensei was born and raised in Minneapolis, but came to France in 1981 to study literature and history and has lived in Paris ever since, raising her two children and making a living as a journalist.
That which is before you is it, in all its fullness, utterly complete.
— Huang Po
That which is before you, and in you, is it , in all its fullness, utterly complete…
How can a true man mark his territory?
He just knows it and that’s enough.
The body of space spans all things, spans all time.
Who can show it? What is he asking?
What ever it is that is underneath your feet, that is your teacher.
Any thing, any time.
I wonder if Sarkozy ever encountered this old teacher.
If he did, he could be a true man and the body of space would mark his territory.
morning walk in the street, trough the bus terminal, meeting collegues and starting a new day. pavement was full with garbage and remains of night rain. pupils gathered at school entrance. my master is here. my master is underneath my feet. step by step
show me that, please
full emptiness
empty fullness
step by step. a step into the unknow. a step into life.
sometimes i run. sometimes i walk, sometimes i stop.