The things of the world
and the buddhadharma are fused
into one whole. Everywhere in everything
you have a way out — you do not fall
into objects and states or get
turned around by
anything.
At a bustling
crossroads in the marketplace,
amid the endless waves of life — this
is exactly the right place
to exert effort.
Whip
and tether, self
and bull, every thing
is no thing. The clear blue
sky is unmarked by a message.
Could a snowflake persist
in a flaming fire? This
is the place of
masters.
This
is an absolute necessity
for anybody today. You must have a room,
or a certain hour or so a day, where you don’t know
what was in the newspapers that morning, you don’t know
who your friends are, you don’t know what you owe anybody,
you don’t know what anybody owes to you. This is a place where
you can simply experience and bring forth what you are and
what you might be. This is the place of creative incubation.
At first you may find that nothing happens there.
But if you have a sacred place and use it,
something eventually will
happen.
Why
wait around for
a teacher? Pick up a staff
and knock the sense out of
yourself, so you can
enter eternity.
The ancestors
are everywhere around you,
offering the silent light of truth.
Put down what you’re doing with
your mind and pick up that up.
Do non-doing, and you’ll
inherit the whole
universe.
You
can now buy
Wei wu Wei Ching as part of a
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the cost of one hardcover
book.
Before the night
is even through, I rise and sit,
watching fireflies. The night air clear as
water, the meditating mind is light as a reed.
The moon outlines trees on the western ridge;
a bell arouses homes up above. There may
be those in the dark who know
just how fine is what
I have found.
