Die to live/mourrir pour vivre

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Die to live/mourrir pour vivre

Yesterday in sitting I see it: My thoughts wander, and « I » follows, running in aimless circles along trails that just double back onto themselves. This is going nowhere, blindly, incessantly yearning to come and arrive. Then for a half-second « I » turns to find in a still clearing the silent face of death looking back, unmasked, calm, ageless. I meet it, eye to eye; we meet, eye to eye.

I see it: I must die, take leave of the thought frenzy leading only to thought frenzy leading only to thought frenzy… The subject (I) must die to become free of the objects that are keeping it alive as subject but are killing the irreducible essence of endless life in the limitless wild fields of being: les contrées sans balises.

I see it: I must die to live.

By | 2015-10-02T20:11:18+00:00 avril 7th, 2008|Textes|5 Comments

About the Author:

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.

5 Comments

  1. Juan 14 avril 2008 at 21 h 57 min - Reply

    The never ending story of just sitting and never knowing if I’ll be able to die again today, or wander around aimlessly 🙂

  2. Tu es cela 10 avril 2008 at 11 h 03 min - Reply

    The perfect life is now. It’s entirely mine to receive, flooding me in torrents when I open the gates: Yes.

  3. wild primula 10 avril 2008 at 1 h 02 min - Reply


    " si le grain ne meurt…"

    out of the bible

  4. mongolian steppe 10 avril 2008 at 0 h 22 min - Reply

    When it is not important anymore we are ‘living’ or ‘dying’
    we dyed a death that is not ours –
    we ‘re born a birth that is not ours ?
    for everything is one energy
    for everything is perfect as it is.

  5. Ting 8 avril 2008 at 21 h 21 min - Reply

    Powerful, liberating language.

    Die now!
    Die the Great Death.

    Like frost in the morning of a warm day in April…

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