In Honor of My Teacher.
OM NAMO GURU DEV NAMO
I remember the bowing, lighting candles, unfolding the zagu
A distant form – empty. Done. Completed.
Sometimes taken as salvation.
Sometimes giving curses.
Said to be, “Nonsense!”
Eventually the bowing mat disappeared.
It gave shimmering promises.
Too far away. Too close up.
The thread never known.
Everything comes and goes. The bitter and the sweet.
All being. All this. All that.
When we make it out to the current, we stop struggling and
Sail along watching all of it appear and disappear.
Right now it is best not to speak. Not to talk. Not to go up and down along words.
Nothing to say. IT is beyond compare.
Doing things right or wrong is an endless trap – a hamster running on the inside rim of a wheel.
IT is immeasurable. Uncountable.
Only the Bigness of the Unsayable satisfies the bottomless hunger.
But it can’t be made or taken apart.
All else are waves on the surface of the eternal ocean of bliss.
Inner desires are the waves.
For or against – wanting satisfaction.
Getting it or not. Troubled waters come.
The smallest desire blocks the Way.
No giver. No receiver. No gift.
OM namo guru dev namo.
GATE GATE PARAGATE PARASAMGATE BODHI SVAHA. … PARASAMGATE
*I was once dubious about working with a teacher, but after a lifetime of practice, and working with Ming Zhen
I see the need and recommend you find a teacher you can work with face to face.
Author: FaShi Lao Yue
Image credits: Fly, 2020
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