
Today,
like every other day,
we wake up empty and frightened.
Don’t open the door to the study and begin reading.
Take down a musical instrument. Let the beauty
we love be what we do. There are hundreds
of ways to kneel and kiss
the ground.

Today,
like every other day,
we wake up empty and frightened.
Don’t open the door to the study and begin reading.
Take down a musical instrument. Let the beauty
we love be what we do. There are hundreds
of ways to kneel and kiss
the ground.

Every day priests
minutely examine the dharma
and endlessly chant complicated sutras.
They should learn to read the love letters
sent by the wind and rain, the
snow and moon.

How
should those
who know of God
meet and
part?
The way
an old musician
greets his beloved instrument
and will take special care, as a great
artist always does, to enhance
the final note of each
performance.

Every
little thing is
sent for something,
and in that thing there should be
happiness and the power to make happy.
Like the grasses showing tender faces
to each other, thus we should do,
for this was the wish of the
Grandfathers of the
World.

People yearn
for fame and fortune,
but this is like aching to taste the
point of a weapon. These are shallow,
confusing, empty of virtue — yet
people become fixed on them
and lose their way
forever.
Look closely
at things that shine
without substance. Fame
enflames one’s idea of self and
separates one from humanity. Touched
by it, people grasp desperately to
get and keep it. What is the
wisdom, though,
in resisting
change?
Fortune
is a lover similarly
impossible to satisfy.
Constantly demanding energy
and attention, fencing off people’s
hearts, it returns less and less to
the soul. Yet common people
contort themselves
into cripples
chasing
it.
See
the injury
built into these,
and let them
go by.

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Wei wu Wei Ching as part of a
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