Only don't know

The wise man knows the Self
And he plays the game of life

But the fool lives in the world
Like a beast of burden

From Thomas Byrom’s translation of Ashtavakra Gita

Sometimes, said Pooh, the smallest things take up the most space in your heart.

Autobiography in Five Chapters

1) I walk down the street
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk
I fall in.
I am lost…I am hopeless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

2) I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don’t see it.
I fall in again.
I can’t believe I’m in the same place.
But it isn’t my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.

3) I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in…it’s a habit.
My eyes are open
I know where I am
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.

4) I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

5) I walk down another street.

- From The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying by Sogyal Rinpoche

A poem for my father (again)

What remains?

Not the words
Nor the pictures
in old photo albums
Not the things people say
Who you were, what you were
Not my grief, or my mother’s.
Not these. Not these.

Not the man
who wore suspenders
Warrior, preacher
Failed his Teacher
Dirty jokes
Bankruptcy
Bhikshu K
House by the sea
Not you. Not you.

What then?
Only this
As above so below
As below so above
Only this
Only Love.