A New/Old Zen Monk

97007338-1238-4947-92E9-C8BCD35CC947.JPG

On the road for a day’s adventuring. I love the grasses on the moorlands as we leave the valley, the different colours, the seed heads. The simple reminder of beingness connects me to the sacred in my own heart, moves me into the here and now away from the lost paths of future and past. I think of my brothers and sisters from other times, Ryokan, Ikkyu, Lal Ded, Hildegard. When we are in the here and now we are with all awakened beings, we are as natural as the grasses.

I’ve even been signing some recent letters as Blade of Grass, rather than John. Ikkyu used to call himself Crazy Cloud. 

Stopping for coffee, we’re going somewhere, but happiness is right here, love is right here.

We are born and unborn, and always whole and one with life in all it’s forms and formlessness. Did I tell you I love you? Listen the the sounds around you, it’s there in the spaces.

Love
Blade of Grass 
( )
John