In Which the Wind Goes "Whoosh" and the Snow Goes "Shh-tik, shh-tik"

02/21/2006 7:28 AM – 7:55 AM

The base state of existence is silent. Is it good, evil, neutral? It doesn’t say. Good, evil, neutral all imply a choice. Existence makes no choices. It drifts along the tracks laid down at Plank’s Time. We are the value-givers, the appraisers.

What we seek in zazen is that bottom state. Silence. Why do good? And what is good? What would it be like to fall in love again? Breathe in. Breathe out. I exist as a value-giver. Without a guide, you must determine what is good and what is evil and what is neutral. How can be in the trenches and determine what value is good? Appraisers without a guide except for the small pamphlet of personal experience. You only get one shot. You can only live in one life. There is only this. One long mistake. One long masterpiece. No difference. Whatever we choose, we choose it right now. Now. Now.

What says the wind? What says the snow? I think it’s a sort of “whoosh” sound. But the snow is a sort of “shh-tik, shh-tik.” Ask existence its value and it says, “whoosh” and “shh-tik, shh-tik.” What should I do? Whoosh. Shh-tik, shh-tik. And that’s the way it is. I sink down into the silence below the wind and snow. Neither naiveté nor irony, you try to choose the middle way. What do I know about existence? A few things that I remember. A few things that I am experiencing right now. Now. Now. What do they tell me I should do? Whoosh. And shh-tik, shh-tik. Am I predestined or free-willed? Whoosh. Shh-tik, shh-tik. I will sit. I will listen to the silence beneath the rumbling static of quanta. What will it tell me? Whoosh. Shh-tik, shh-tick. I will get up and shower and make my lunch. I will tell myself a story. I will tell myself a parable. I will tell myself a lie. I will tell myself “whoosh” and “shh-tik, shh-tik.” How much further can we go into it? Where is it? Where is it? Whoosh. Shh-tik. Shh-tik.