Herzsutra

Einführung in die Zen Meditation

“Form ist Leerheit, Leerheit ist Form,
Form ist nichts anderes als Leerheit, 
Leerheit ist nichts anderes als Form.
Ebenso verhält es sich mit Empfindung, 
Wahrnehmung, Geistformation und Bewußtsein.”
Herzsutra

Deep

Jacob Needleman:

To search means, first, I need Being, Truth; second, I do not know where to find it; and third, an action takes place that is not based on fantasies of certainty— while at the same time a waiting takes place that is rooted not in wishful thinking but in a deep sense of urgency.

Four ways to wisdom

Angeles Arrien:

Show up or choose to be present,
pay attention to what has heart and meaning,
tell the truth without blame or judgment,
and be open, rather than attached to, the outcome.

Path of purification

.. a fruit of mindfulness meditation ..

 

Anushka Fernandopulle:

 

"In many ways, you can consider your mind being like the platform of a bus or train station where many trains of thought pull through, heading to various destinations: childhood memories, creative ideas, revenge fantasies, cravings for chocolate, plans for your next retreat. The untrained mind gets on every single train that pulls through the station... As we develop our practice we can learn to get on the thought trains that are helpful and skip the ones that are not. And just like in a train station, if nobody is boarding the trains that go somewhere, they will stop running as many of them, and eventually stop running them at all. This is known as the path of purification, and it is completely possible for a 21st century person to attain."

Child of Earth

I am a child of earth
My path is no highway
My rise needs no elevator

The sun is in my heart

High time

Now it´s time, high time
To step out of obsessive thinking
To come to my senses
And arrive at the ground at my feet.

Daily

An old Hasidic rabbi asked his pupils how they could tell when the night had ended and the day had begun, for that is the time for certain holy prayers.
“Is it,” proposed one student, “when you can see an animal in the distance and tell whether it is a sheep or a dog?” “No,” answered the rabbi.
“Is it when you can clearly see the lines of your own palm?” “Is it when you can look at a tree in the distance and tell if it is a fig or a pear tree?” “No,” answered the rabbi each time.
“Then what is it?” the pupils demanded.
“It is when you can look on the face of any man or woman and see that they are your sister or brother. Until then it is still night.”

In the end

Poem by Tara Sophia Mohr

In the end
you won’t be known
for the things you did,
or what you built,
or what you said.

You won’t even be known
for the love given
or the hearts saved,

because in the end you won’t be known.

You won’t be asked, by a vast creator full of light:
What did you do to be known?

You will be asked: Did you know it,
this place, this journey?

What there is to know can’t be written.
Something between the crispness of air
and the glint in her eye
and the texture of the orange peel.

What you’ll want a thousand years from now is this:
a memory that beats like a heart–
a travel memory, of what it was to walk here,
alive and warm and textured within.

Sweet brightness, aliveness, take-me-now-ness that is life.

You are here to pay attention. That is enough.