Nibbling poetic carrot tops
> “To awaken to our origin prior to ego is the subtle > flavour of zazen.” > > We have feet, but we're not our feet. We have personality > traits, but we're not our personality traits. The > transformation that Zen practice brings isn't a tweaking > of our quirks, an attempt to change — improve! — > our personality. It's no longer identifying with that > personality. We don't have to identify with our own > personality traits any more than we identify with someone > else's.
Boom. Not sure I've ever seen it stated better – inasmuch as it could be stated, of course....
Same for partner and I. How I ever slept clothed in previous incarnations astounds me.
In a sort of lightly twisted nod to my childhood do I feel compelled to add:
The rabbit replied: “What's up, monk?”
You know... slight hints of the vicinity of my shower drain when thoughts of cleaning begin to seep to mind....
> i think of poetry more often than not. while i stopped at > a corner of a blossom-covered street, i spied two young > sparrows ripping leaves off a small plant. at a downtown > square, a child chased pigeons into traffic where two > were killed by cars. a woman walked down the street > while talking on a cell phone erupted in laughter. i > thought about the woman my grandmother used to be before > alzheimer’s altered her brain. this is all poetry.
'Tis a blessed curse, is what I want to type... but certainly more the former than the latter.