We sat all together yesterday, starting out with the question, « Where are we? »
It made for a fabulous morning — the answers kept coming to me, arising one after the other: on the floor, on a cushion, under the ceiling, in front of the table, in the house, in the garden, in the living room, in the kitchen, in the dining room (where are the borders?), in Montreuil, in France, at No. 20, on Earth, I don’t know, everywhere…
Of course, we are/were « here. » But what does that mean? Who is where? What is? Who?
The wild ride went on, during the sittings, the tea and lunch breaks: now here in a chair, now here at the sink, now here at the door with the cat…
In the morning someone had explained to me where he lived, situating his home in relation to Métro stations, street names, neighborhoods. I then placed that in my mind according to references I had about his references. « Here » was understood only in relation to « there. » Which is valuable, but limiting.
We can only truly know « here » when we don’t know where it is, when we are just simply here.
Where are we?
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.
Indeed, the questions are infinitely more interesting than the answers.
A good day was had by all. And is still being had. Giver and receiver are one.
Gates are always open? What gates?
i’ve kept sitting with this question "Where am I?", walking with it, living its taste since that practice day with wild flower sangha. wow! a real question can be such a gift! The gift that keeps on giving! thank you!
who is?
i am not – at the moment. I am just my very solidified me – writing words about something you cannot realy write about.
for who is a concept as wel.
who are we- that we imprison ourselves?
going to sit – maybe the gates open – maybe not – they are allways open – but we’re not there to live it?
just found out that the words "gaol" (prison) and "goal" ( but – in french) are so similar…
funny- isn’t it?
They sound different though-
Who is?
here and there are concepts.
We are "here" when we stay in the place before concepts –
we just are