INPUT
We need to have a human birth to practice the Dharma. We need to be born in the correct place, too; and have one’s faculties. On the other side, if one has extreme karma, one may engage in no virtuous conduct. And to have an intention oriented towards the Dharma, the Buddhist Teachings, it’s necessary to have faith. (It’s) like a turtle’s neck poking through a hole in the ocean: so rare. Miracles are the daily activities of the Buddhas. Miracles disappear with Buddhas, but not overwhem Buddhas. Lin-chi wrote: “Don’t try to do anything special: just act ordinary. The Dharma of the Buddhas desn’t call for nothing special. Ordinary things … Meditation is the place where ordinary things become … (?)
Outside my window
It keeps reciting itself
The snowflake Sutra.
Birth – miracles – hands.
I
I was born premature. My mother almost died. I always thought cesarea was an easy birth, but someone told me it wasn’t: there was a lot of blood, it was traumatic. I never thought in my birth as a miracle, but yeah, it surely was. Like everyone’s. That only makes it clear, though, that death will also be a miracle: the last one? Shakespeare wrote something I like to quote: “The worst is death, and death will have its time.”
II
I think I’ve lost my chance of becoming a practitioner of the Dharma. I haven’t the faith. If I practice, I do it to become intimate with my mind, my mind with no thoughts in it; my mind when it’s like wind.
III
My hands are becoming deformed by age. I always had fleshy palms and the fingers short, the hands of an idiot. But I like hand-writing, writing with my hand and my short fingers. I like the contact of the pen upon the paper, the connection between sight, hand and brain.
I like blank pages. I always keep a couple of empty notebooks around, ready to be filled
I like editing my blog too, measuring the space, trying to keep the margins. It’s kind of an obsessive work, but I like it. Typing with my fingers, the short, strong fingers in my hand.
III
Meditation: being in the womb? (No: it’s something clearer, being born. Like seeing time after time the light at the end of the birth channel.)