Another full-schedule week of multiple activities having now come to this, a rainy, chilly, sometimes sunny, sometimes not Easter Sunday.
After newspaper work, I’m home again. I think I have now done everything that I think I can possibly think of doing.
Reminds me of the Zen story (as told by D.T. Suzuki) in which a disciple asks a teacher what is the essential teaching of Zen. The teacher replies, « When there is no longer anyone here I will tell you. »
Later (an indeterminate amount of time seems to have passed), the disciple asks again. This time the teacher takes him into the forest, where they come upon a bamboo grove.
« These are tall bamboo, » the teacher says, « and these are short bamboo. »
It’s like an unfathomable mystery in the brilliant sun or the shining splendors of deepest night.
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