Thursday, December 30, 2004

Nothing is more fulfillling than a empty cup

In zen, to become mature is to become a playful child. Like a child who plays making soap bubbles or seeing pictures in the clouds, the man of zen knows that every phenomena in Nature, in Life is temporary. But this realization is not delusive. The man of zen is open to the surprise and renewal, the refreshment that Change brings. Like the child playing with the clouds and soap bubbles, he is always ready, automatically fills the empty cup that Life offers with the joy that overflows from his being.

Circumstances are just soap bubbles, clouds, butterflies. In the minute that you try to get serious about them, the whole joy of their temporality is killed. You pin a butterfly on a styrofoam board, you cut the flowers and put in a vase. Then, you turn a garden of delight that Life can be into a graveyard.

Everything in Nature , in Life, changes but changing. And Man does not want things to change. He separates himself from Nature. When you stop changing, you die. You suicide when you stop yourself from growing.

In Life there are only growth and rottening. There's no stillpoint. So, just let things go on moving. Embrace change with your personal growth. Every moment is nothing more than an empty cup, it's up to you what that cup is gonna be filled with.

This is it.

Tuesday, December 28, 2004

Zazen is nesting

To sit in zazen, meditation, is to nest. It's heaven itself, like we found in our mother's womb. Warmth, food and comfort.

The whole role of zazen, meditation, is to erase all the noise and drafts, and mistakes of our basic behavior program. Basically, meditattion put us in contact with our Tabula Rasa again, for a fresh start. And then, we are thrown in the open air, immense skies, to fly. Freedom. Like a bird you can fly in the air, but also, like a bird, you can't get attached to the air. In the moment you try to grab it, you start falling.

So, zazen, meditation, is like nesting. You voluntarily turn yourself into a egg. Silent, no movement, no attachment, no prejudice, no fear: The shell is broken. And Life raises you to fly free.

Sunday, June 20, 2004

Wisdom is achievable only through unlearning

Happiness is always there inside of us. It's hidden under the conditionings that once were its protection, as the shell of egg to a little chick.

But the little chick will never be a chick will never be a rooster, if the same shell that is its protection doesn't get broken. What was guarantee of life, becomes a prison.

All of us were born truly happy and taught to be miserable. Now, all we have to do is unlearn to become wise. Unlearn all the clutter of conditionings and prejudice. And this what meditation, Zen is all about: An intense process of unlearning.

Saturday, June 5, 2004

The wheel of Samsara is Mill stone

Life is mill
breaking me down
to powder, to dust,to flour, to meal,
to bread to feed
the feast,
the lamb and the beast.

Once I was seed,
and I flowered
and when I gave myself
to decay,
after the pain,
I became a tree.

Then, I spreaded,
greedy grew,
dried, died.

An, you see,
again, I am here.
Again,as grain and seed.
And my life
is this sea
of green.

Oh, this sea!

Tuesday, May 25, 2004

Courage is the opposite of certainty

I've been made a man.
Man enough to cry,and to rely
on the strength
of my fragility.

I'm thankful
for my ability
to be
what I am.
Even though
I don't understand.
Even though
I can't see
what is gonna be
the end.

is not related
to certainty.
It's nothing else
but Trust.

Monday, May 10, 2004

Life is not what is left behind

Cycles of time,
moods, tides,
And I live.
I live happily.

Life is not what is left behind.
We don't have to understand.
Just to stand under
the clouds passing by,
close our eyes,
and admire.

Kindness as Thunder. Love as rain.

Give me a minute of peace
and I'll drown in it.
Swalling every bite.
Biting every piece.

Than, the taste:
a hurricane.
Having Kindness
as thunder,and Love as rain.

Human race
would never need death
If its days
were always like this

Sunday, May 9, 2004

Suffering, sometimes, is God's favor

A pinch of Salt,
a full cup of pleasure
cooked under the storms
of an unbearable pressure
to become insane.

What is this new place?
What is its name?

My love is a beast
that I can't tame.
Tearing my heart apart.
Hunting the World down.
Bare hands. Big game.

Suffering, sometimes,
is God's favor,
after thousands of deserts,
a little Oasis...
but what flavor!