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All That IsAs the sun risesover our neighborhoodI look to the westwhere an indigo sky is streakedwith red and light blue cloudsmoving like zeppelins, freed fromthe constraints of form. When I reveal my heartto the stillness of the west,when I turn my face to theaperture of eternity, thestillness yet flowing through me,I breathe the endless zingof that all that is.
Kensho Schmensho
As for me, I move slowly.This is my modus operandias it is referred to in thepopular lexicon. I move like a sloth, easingfrom the branch of one treeto the branch of another.Moving my body throughimaginary quagmires of timeas my indolent thoughtspass through a head goingnowhere on a shady, dirt road. There is no need to namethe Patriarchs or totrace the lineage of Dogen. Floating in front ofall our facesis the inexplicable air.Breathing it in, it is the mostamusing nothing. Tofollow its passage throughthis slothful, temporary body--what else is there? Nothing to explain.A man shovels the snow in the rain.
Mu
I flew to the Sun yesterday.It was a little warm but not too bad,despite the warnings from my friends. When I arrived at the SunI discovered that what thescientific instruments have beentelling us about sun spots are wrong. They are not sun spots at all.They are round doorwaysleading into the interior. When I placed my hands on the edgeof one of these doorways andclimbed inside the Sun-- I encountered my fathersitting in his chairlooking out the doorwayat the doings of the universe. I walked down a short hallwayand saw my motherlying on a bed,still dying from bone cancer. I encountered myself at twenty-four,hitchhiking through Virginiawhere pitter pats of memoryhopped from one brain cell to another.And, then I found Tomorrow. Tomorrow sat on her golden throne.She lifted her palm to my face.“I am going to tell you somethingthat you will know when youreturn to Earth,” she said. “You will know thatopposites are not opposite.You will know thatwhat you call oppositesare really two elementscomplementing one another. You will know that there isno ideal you andthere is no un-ideal you. You, my love, are like a dogtrotting through the woods.”
CM Brown is a poet and has been a Meditation teacher, practicing for more than twenty years. He is the author of two books of essays on meditation and Eastern Philosophy, Let Go and Live and The Beautiful You. CM Brown near Boulder, CO and is a longtime practitioner of Zen Buddhism.
Kensho Schmensho
As for me, I move slowly.This is my modus operandias it is referred to in thepopular lexicon. I move like a sloth, easingfrom the branch of one treeto the branch of another.Moving my body throughimaginary quagmires of timeas my indolent thoughtspass through a head goingnowhere on a shady, dirt road. There is no need to namethe Patriarchs or totrace the lineage of Dogen. Floating in front ofall our facesis the inexplicable air.Breathing it in, it is the mostamusing nothing. Tofollow its passage throughthis slothful, temporary body--what else is there? Nothing to explain.A man shovels the snow in the rain.
Mu
I flew to the Sun yesterday.It was a little warm but not too bad,despite the warnings from my friends. When I arrived at the SunI discovered that what thescientific instruments have beentelling us about sun spots are wrong. They are not sun spots at all.They are round doorwaysleading into the interior. When I placed my hands on the edgeof one of these doorways andclimbed inside the Sun-- I encountered my fathersitting in his chairlooking out the doorwayat the doings of the universe. I walked down a short hallwayand saw my motherlying on a bed,still dying from bone cancer. I encountered myself at twenty-four,hitchhiking through Virginiawhere pitter pats of memoryhopped from one brain cell to another.And, then I found Tomorrow. Tomorrow sat on her golden throne.She lifted her palm to my face.“I am going to tell you somethingthat you will know when youreturn to Earth,” she said. “You will know thatopposites are not opposite.You will know thatwhat you call oppositesare really two elementscomplementing one another. You will know that there isno ideal you andthere is no un-ideal you. You, my love, are like a dogtrotting through the woods.”
CM Brown is a poet and has been a Meditation teacher, practicing for more than twenty years. He is the author of two books of essays on meditation and Eastern Philosophy, Let Go and Live and The Beautiful You. CM Brown near Boulder, CO and is a longtime practitioner of Zen Buddhism.
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