On finding the slim man inside of me…

I seek the slim man inside of me and I’ve decided to walk aimlessly every day until I find him.

I see it as a sort of peripatetic Zen; a journey with no tangible destination — the ‘destination’  (a virtual node in the stream of existence) will present itself without conscious effort.

If I walk enough, without a particular purpose in mind, I’m certain to eventually happen upon the man I seek.

I think I’ll practice some Qigong as well; it can’t hurt, will possibly center my being, and will surely increase the density of synchronistic events surrounding me.

But I’m convinced it is the walking that will lead me to the man I seek: “…a man returning home by climbing over a hedge, to the surprise of his walking companion. Oh, how I love to reach home by climbing over the back fence, and to travel on bypaths!” [from the preface of Lin Yutang’s The Importance of Living(p. v – vi)].

.

.

.

 

The Zen Teachings of Bodhidharma

“The mind and the world are opposites, and vision arises where they meet. When your mind doesn’t stir inside, the world doesn’t arise outside. When the world and the mind are both transparent, this is true vision. And such understanding is true understanding.”

Excerpted from The Zen Teaching of Bodhidharma, copyright © 1987 by Red Pine. Published by North Point Press. [the entire article is on tricycle’s website]

 

An Old Zen Story

Two Zen monks were traveling and came to a ford of a stream that was running high with spring runoff; the current was strong, and the water flowed past with a surging energy. A beautiful young woman was standing at the ford, looking nervous; she was clearly afraid to cross, but obviously had an important reason to go. Without a word, the older of the two monks lifted her in his arms, carried her across the stream, set her safely on the far side, and then waded back across to join his fellow monk once more.

The younger monk looked shocked, but kept his silence for many kilometers as they continued on their journey. Finally, he blurted out: “You know it is against the rules of our order to have any contact with women; how could you do that?”

The older monk smiled and said, “I put her down when I reached the other side of the stream; you, on the other hand, have been carrying her this whole way.”

 

Last day of Winter

“Sitting quietly, doing nothing,

Spring comes, and the grass grows by itself.”

a Zen poem