Friday, March 10, 2006


As I was reading, I found this excerpt from Zen ni kike of Kodo Sawaki. I could not resist putting it on this blog. To my foolish ears, it sounds that what Kodo is talking about is the formless field of happiness, zazen-kesa, kesa-zazen:

"Life doesn't run on tracks. Birdsong knows neither major nor minor. Boddhidharma's teaching doesn't fit on manuscript paper. The Buddha-Dharma is unlimited. When you try to hold it still, you miss it. It isn't dried cod. Living fish has no fixed form".

9 Comments:

Blogger Mike Cross said...

Fish, totally at home in the water, swim like fish.

Birds, totally at home in the sky, fly like birds.

But tottering bipeds like you and me, Pierre, unable to endure the insecurity of not knowing, of having nothing, of being nobody, wish to clutch on to the security of something.

Our own deluded clutching. Just that is something we can be sure about.

10:56 AM  
Blogger Pierre Turlur said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

2:48 PM  
Blogger Pierre Turlur said...

Rather than constantly looking at the pathetic and clutching clown I am, Sawaki invites the tottering biped to think up and coming undone.

There is another thing we can be sure about: In this life, there is room for forgiveness ( accepting self and others), carefreeness, joy and just silence.

2:50 PM  
Blogger Mike Cross said...

In truly allowing, there is room.

In falling back into my habitual mode of being -- I know; I am right; I identify myself with the true kesa -- there is only my old habit.

9:53 AM  
Blogger Pierre Turlur said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

1:55 PM  
Blogger Pierre Turlur said...

In truly allowing, there is room.

In falling back into my habitual mode of being--I know, I am right; I identify myself with true bitterness--there is only my old habit.

1:57 PM  
Blogger Michael Tait said...

Fish fly like birds underwater,
birds swim like fish of the air
Water swims and flies,
Like birds, like air and fish.

Releasing birds, air and fish in this way, from their cramped prison and into all things, there is also released a gob of spit, a blurted obscenity, a half truth of this impostor.

4:03 PM  
Blogger Pierre Turlur said...

Yes! Indeed.

7:44 PM  
Blogger Nicole said...

Thanks for posting these words and calligraphy.

2:30 PM  

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