Perhaps this is what religion is for?

A strain of intensity and madness to sublimate one’s paunchy, balding final form?

Even the Neanderthal skull in the museum display is probably a remarkable instance of an unremarkable soul.

Yesterday I found out that the Tibetan name for the great, empty flash of awakening is “Ordinary Mind”

I witness my ordinary body with its unremarkable pains from a vantage point of boundless curiousity.

I could stay here, in this cool, refreshing blankness but I choose to return. I always choose to return.

2024-09-04

the monk there is no path from here to here

poems