Of the Silent Word

05/16/2006 7:05 AM – 7:26 AM

The church bell and the call of the beggar, sounding there in the rain. The light glows out from the window. The sign saying that someone is in business. The first time I sat on a zafu. It was a good sit. Just to sit. Still the body. Point the mind towards the breath. Point it again.

There is no such thing as good advice, only pointing towards the breath and saying, “be content.” All roads lead to the grave, all graves lead to eternity. Where are we from? Where are we going? Just pull out the poison arrow, there is only movement in space and drifting time. What should I do? How should I live? What am I going to be when I grow up? Doesn’t really matter. Step down beneath the rippling surface and swim in the silence that is the Word. “God spoke one Word,” says John of the Cross, “and that Word was spoken in silence.” Still God speaks that Word. Still that Word echoes in all that is. Where you’ve reached the Cloud of Unknowing, kick the ladder away.

The green is coming on beneath the purple-gray sky, these, of course, are the days that Spikes were born for. The touch of the heavens is only falling water, and we dissolve in the forgetting. What self? What no-self? Both propositions are equally ridiculous. True is found in the silence of oppositions. This. What is this? Falling away is coming together. Being is non-being. Yes, it’s a lie. Doesn’t matter. There’s just rain and chlorophyll. Smaller down, the quanta bubble. Pulsating geometry. Are you trying to forget something or remember something? Same thing. Be here now. Yes. I definitely have to pee. I should stop smoking habitually. All those clouds. All that water. The ocean is suspended by air. The rain, accumulating, falls down. Doesn’t matter. It’s just the teeth in your head. The heart in your hands. Let it go. There’s only this. Be content. This is enough. What should I do? Whatever it is that you’ll do. Flip a coin. Take a career placement test. Doesn’t matter. There goes another car. It reminds me of riding with my grandmother. Underlying everything is the soundless Word.