Words and What They Don't Say

[Guest guest]

A monk asked Nansen: "Is there a teaching no master ever preached

before?"

Nansen said: "yes, there is."

"What is it?' asked the monk.

Nansen replied: "It is not mind, it is not Buddha, it is not things."

 

Mumon's comment: Old Nansen gave away his treasure-words.

He must have been greatly upset.

 

Nansen was too kind and lost his treasure.

Truly, words have no power.

Even though the mountain becomes the sea,

Words cannot open another's mind.

 

Mumon, The Gateless Gate

 

 

So, what can I say?

Plenty, that's what!

First of all, what mind

are words supposed to be opening

or not? Where do people get

such ideas? Is the mind some kind of

can that requires a mystic can-opener?

Nansen was just yapping like they all do,

so what's the big deal, Mumon?

You don't seem to be at any loss for

words yourself, come to think of it!

I like Mazie's words –

she has a way with words, a

wayless way. You ought to see her

sitting here in such glee, Heart

just singing through her little fingers

like some waterfall that can't quite

get over the fact that it's falling water!

We are all water beings, swirling in our

water worlds with liquid words dripping off

our tongues, down the glistening sides of sky

so saturated with the moisture of our loving!

Have you ever wondered about nations drawing

lines in the ocean to claim what they believe is theirs?

Where is the boundary in consciousness?

God is often compared to the ocean, the sea.

We are often imagining ourselves as rivers,

pouring into the sea, and so of course, every mountain

has already melted into the sea, and so whoopee let's

flow with words, let them go, give the linguistic

imagination free reign, let these little swimming sounds

know we love them, for they are us as much as no mind,

no Buddha, no thing, and this is probably not my final

word on the subject, either.

 

Melon Bones,

 

b

 

 

"O sadhu! The simple union is the best.

Since the day when I met with my

Lord, there has been no end to the

Sport of our love.

I shut my eyes, I close not my

Ears, I do not mortify my body;

I see with eyes open and smile, and

Behold His beauty everywhere:

I utter His name, and whatever I see,

It reminds me of Him; whatever

I do, it becomes His worship.

The rising and the setting are one to

Me; all contradictions are solved.

Wherever I go, I move round Him,

All I achieve is His service:

When I lie down, I lie prostrate at

His feet.

He is the only adorable one to me: I

Have none other.

My tongue has left off all impure words,

It sings His glory day and night:

Whether I rise or sit down, I can

Never forget Him; for the rhythm

Of His music beats in my ears.

Kabir says: `My heart is frenzied,

And I disclose in my soul what is

Hidden. I am immersed in that

One great bliss which transcends

All pleasure and pain.'

 

~Kabir

 

Did you ever hold in your arms

Someone whom you had held, and held

Just like this, just like this, for many,

so many happy, beautiful lives?

And held them once even,

as the life drained away?

Left with a crimson pool of blood

Flowing and swirling around your feet,

The Heart just left its cage and flew away.

It went to the same Abode of Bliss

As the Beloved did. It did.

To carry the enormity

and the smallness

Of a Love such as this,

One must go into, and stay there,

Into the Source of Eternal Light,

Into the Core-Sound of the Heart.

Did you ever hold someone you loved,

Loved so much they began to dissolve?

To glance into the eyes of such a Love,

The simplicity and naturalness of it,

It never was so easy to just Be.

This ability to be in the moment,

Each one not even knowing time passes,

This, and the one thought weaving through both,

At once and together about everything it seems,

This is the way of opening the Heart to Love.

Did you ever hold your Beloved

when suddenly

You didn't know who he was?

He had no name,

no face,

no identity,

And then the falling into emptiness –

Falling into the Beloved With No Name;

The Beloved With No Face;

The Beloved Identity of No One;

Where is there to go but further,

As far as This Falling Waterfall

Of Love wants to take one.

Did you ever hold your Beloved

And Know He was Love Alone -

The Beautiful Beloved One,

And no other.

 

 

LoveAlways,

 

Mazie