Monday, March 17, 2008


This is the teaching of Monkey, the famous Chinese novel, the teaching of a foolish Monkey that think he can jump and fly over countless mountains. Jump and fly over boundless fields. One day, he gets so far, so so so far, and thinks: "I am fucking great, look at me, I can jump and fly further than anybody! I am so skilled! God, I am the choosen one, I...He then hears a whisper, a gentle voice that says: "Monkey, dear Monkey, please, what are you doing?" The Buddha is looking at Monkey in the very palm of his hand:" please, Monkey"...

As my good Buddhist friend Sakaide san says, that story just says that even if you you try to escape Buddha nature, you cannot, you are just Buddha, whoever you are, tall, small, slim, fat, stupid or witty, straight or gay, whatever you do or don't, you belong to this. This palm. This hand. It cannot be measured. It has no colour. No ism. No temple, no church. No sacred hyms or fucked up God. Unconditionnal. Unconditionnal. It doesn't promise anything. It doesn't condemn anybody. It doesn't judge you or others. Voiceless. This field has no name. Nameless. Nameless. In this it is called kesa, there mandala, over there, teapot, bin, stone, fish, crap, floating cloud, just this...

This is why, is there a need for any why, I am blissfully ready to go to hell (where I should go according to my many so called Christian friends... bless them!!!) . Hell or heaven, toys, just toys...The open field leaps over ten million moons and swallows the very sun. It is just this, just this!


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