Outwardly, all activities
cease; inwardly, the mind stops
its panting. When one’s mind has
become a wall, then he may
begin to enter
the tao.
Outwardly, all activities
cease; inwardly, the mind stops
its panting. When one’s mind has
become a wall, then he may
begin to enter
the tao.
Favor
and disgrace are
equally problematic. Hope
and fear are phantoms
of the body.
What
does it mean that
“favor and disgrace are
equally problematic”? Favor
lifts you up; disgrace knocks you down.
Either one depends on the opinions
of others and causes you to
depart from your
center.
What
does it mean that
“hope and fear are phantoms
of the body”? When you regard your
body as your self, hope and fear have real
power over you. If you abandon the
notion of body as self, hope
and fear cannot
touch you.
Know
the universe as
your self, and you can live
absolutely anywhere in comfort.
Love the world as your self,
and you’ll be able
to care for it
properly.
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Mountain home sleeping
No dreams of dust.
Three robes are plenty;
Who says I’m poor?
One for my pillow,
One to serve as a mat,
And at the thunder of my snoring
Heaven and Earth disappear.
what you should know to be a poet
Enough of osseous and chickadee and sunflower
and snowshoes, maple and seeds, samara and shoot,
enough chiaroscuro, enough of thus and prophecy
and the stoic farmer and faith and our father and tis
of thee, enough of bosom and bud, skin and god
not forgetting and star bodies and frozen birds,
enough of the will to go on and not go on or how
a certain light does a certain thing, enough
of the kneeling and the rising and the looking
inward and the looking up, enough of the gun,
the drama, and the acquaintance’s suicide, the long-lost
letter on the dresser, enough of the longing and
the ego and the obliteration of ego, enough
of the mother and the child and the father and the child
and enough of the pointing to the world, weary
and desperate, enough of the brutal and the border,
enough of can you see me, can you hear me, enough
I am human, enough I am alone and I am desperate,
enough of the animal saving me, enough of the high
water, enough sorrow, enough of the air and its ease,
I am asking you to touch me.
24th Poet Laureate of the United States
Abandonment of self is freedom from desire.
Freedom from desire is freedom from distress.
No this, no that — just exquisite emptiness.
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