pour revenir à

 In Merton bookshed-

retreat comes Saturday sit 

All set — What is this (?/!)

the penny drops

 Yes

One by one

Becoming irrelevant 

My life

My meaning

Falling away

Ah

Let them

Go

still do

 Sit, walk, watch within 

what is replete, in and out

Silence as Itself

rechercher

 I used to love sitting in silence. God didn’t mind the company.

preserve me god, I take refuge in you

 Solitary zen

mendicant sits in winter 

zendo (all) alone

* مع ; حبيبي

(* مع ; حبيبي  — Arabic, for “with ; darling”)

Alone with God, 

with nothing to say, 

with nothing to do, 

with no one to do or say 

anything with — 

What is with this?

5. Quid hoc potest sublímius,                               

5. What is more sublime than this,

ut culpa quaerat grátiam, 

That sin should seek out grace,

metúmque solvat cáritas 

And love dissolve fear,  

reddátque mors vitam novam?                  

And death give again new life?

(Matutinum - Hymnus, 28 April, 2022, Neumz) 

With. 

Not yet understood.

Not yet.

The First Sam Hazo at the Last

         BY SAMUEL HAZO

A minor brush with medicine

         in eighty years was all

         he’d known.

                             But this was different.

His right arm limp and slung,

         his right leg dead to feeling

         and response, he let me spoon him

         chicken-broth.

                                 Later he said

         without self-pity that he’d like

         to die.

                   I bluffed, “The doctors

         think that therapy might help you

         walk again.”

                             “They’re liars,

         all of them,” he muttered.

                                                  Bedfast

         was never how he hoped to go.

“In bed you think of everything,”

         he whispered with a shrug, “you think

         of all your life.”

                                   I knew

         he meant my mother.

                                           Without her

         he was never what he might have been,

         and everyone who knew him knew it.

Nothing could take her place—

         not the cars he loved to drive,

         not the money he could earn at will,

         not the roads he knew by heart

         from Florida to Saranac, not the two

         replacement wives who never

         measured up.

                             Fed now by family

         or strangers, carried to the john,

         shaved and changed by hired help,

         this independent man turned silent

         at the end.

                          Only my wife

         could reach him for his private needs.

What no one else could do

         for him, he let her do.

She talked to him and held

         his hand, the left.

                                     She helped him

         bless himself and prayed beside him

         as my mother might have done.

“Darling” was his final word

         for her.

                      Softly, in Arabic 

Sam Hazo, "The First Sam Hazo at the Last" from As They Sail. Copyright © 1999 by Sam Hazo.

We are not what or who we think we are.

We have not yet discovered what “with” means.

not yet

 Listen to this:

Have you heard

Enough

holy writ is fiction turned inside out

 When looking around

There is evidence someone 

Knows who you are — Cheers

שואה - הד מתמשך *

 I’m Jewish, shalom

I say to sisters, brothers —

Let’s live, here, for now

…   …   …

              * holocaust — an enduring echo

present ... (yes)

Keep in-mind.

Everything is there. 

 Because mind is infinite, it can embrace the universe and still have room left over. Thus, if you understand the truth of nonduality, you can completely embrace everything. 

 

(--Daehaeng Kun Sunim, “Thinking Big” Tricycle)

Nobody has ever left.

No-one has arrived.

Just the intimate embrace of breath upon breath.

Everyone here?

Let's begin! 

the dead are not honored by lies

 So long in prison

Leonard Peltier is

convenient scapegoat

Where does truth hide all these years —

does anyone have courage?

post-truth

 Your own two feet, he

said, from now on you have to

stand on them, none else —

All gurus, experts, chiefs, top

cats are all gone; you are it

radical ontology of connection is presence

I just realized that I don’t believe in any institution or ideology.

Read books. Learn. Don’t bother with schools. 

If you’d like to talk about this, I’m not available. 

Look within. Think. Feel everything.

Trust yourself. Be wary of anyone trying to sell you anything.

I’m off. See ya!

does god have buddha nature

 Let it be said:

Only God is

Nothing else is

Hence: 

God is

Nothing else 

Yes, that’s it:

Only God

Is 

Anything 

Left to

Say 

No,

Nothing

Left 

nonsense

 Did it, really?

Or only in words?

(1a) Die Kuh sprang über den Mond.

(1b) The cow jumped over the moon.

Did my life really happen the way I remember it?

Or are the words said about it the only thing to believe?

And if someone just makes things up, intentionally putting things in or leaving things out, is that imaginative fiction, or a lie?

We seem to have found ourselves living in a time of fabricated facts and formulated unverifiable occurrences.

Things we can see or hear — but are told that what we see or hear, feel, smell, taste, or touch are not what we think they are, not what we believe them to be.

We are mistaken, we are told. We have been fooled. (And this by those fooling us.)

We wonder if we are being deceived. Conned. Lied to.

Is this how a “lie” becomes true for the proponent of the lie?

Because it is there in words, it is all that remains, it alone exists, as told, for now?

There are swindlers who swipe what is true and launder it in their self aggrandizing interest.

          The little dog laughed to see such fun

And the fish ran away with the spoon![2] 

(wikipedia)

The past is in pictures, in words said about it, in feelings and memories swirling about brain and mind.

But, where is the past itself?

Is it anywhere but in words?

And who, how, and when, the verification of words?