
Still bent
But starting to straighten out
Still struggling
But Starting to radiate
Walking on the earth
With the sun in his heart.
Healing and growth through intuitive art

Still bent
But starting to straighten out
Still struggling
But Starting to radiate
Walking on the earth
With the sun in his heart.

When the storm
Is passing
When the thunder
Is still heard
And the horseback riders
Of distraction
Are still
Chasing them
Look through.
See the trees and meadows
See how much
The sky is deep
And laugh.
You are deeper than them.
Think of
Other things
You want
To make
Out of yourself
And play.

Alive
Here
And now
Appears
And
Disappears.

No.
He grew up differently
From how it was expected.
The entanglements of his mind
Kept scaffoldings going
All around him,
While within,
And it was not caught
By outside eyes,
a plant emerged
In his inside world,
The light of which
Is felt
Far, far away.

The big wind came
And swept away
The little house,
The trees
And the ripples in the water
And so it worked
Till there was nothing left, but
The little house,
The trees
And the ripples in the water.

She talked harshly to the children
There was only love among them
They were too nervous to learn
She was too nervous to teach
It stayed like this for many years
In the end of which it was
The habitual way to feel good
Togeher.

Is it a mountain
Or the roof of a barn?
Is this a cloud
Or a smoking chimney?
And this,
Is this a man
With a bird in his hand?
What does he think about?
Do his thoughts
Dive in the sky?
And the drop of green
That fell on the face of the paper,
Why did it fall?
Can this drop be another world
With other people and birds?
Why don't they come closer
To shake hands with us
To have tea
And talk about our lives?
And can the children
Go out and play together
In the backyards
Of the universe?

Can joy live in darkness
Where it is dense
With blinding light,
Where clumps of small explosions
Turn around
With menace?
Can I find my true life in chaos?
No
My life is independent
And pain is happening in it.

Innocently
And with children’s joy
They slowly move
With their belongings
In the air.
It is the end of the line,
They think.
What will be the taste
Of empty space
When we are gone?
In every moment, like when there is an attack of pain that is hard to suffer
Ask myself:
Where is the “I”?
And these days I already see, every time I look, many of my “I”’s
in many levels.
It is even possible to choose a direction and look for all the levels of I
in that direction.
This adds interest.
So now that I see many levels, I can ask:
From which level of I do I want to act now?
Which level do I want to be for this moment?
Which level do I want to choose an action from?
Then this is what I do.
And the next question is:
What action do I want to choose?
And the deeper I go I find that I am more satisfied already
and I do not want to do anything really, because I have everything.
I am good.
I am done.
And the more outward I go, the more I feel that action is required
right now, to fix what is not satisfying yet.
So, instead of fixing the un-fixable
I go deeper
and find that there is nothing to fix.
This is what I do
when the pain attacks.
Now comes a Zen question:
If there is nothing to fix, and everything is good already
what shall I do anyway?
This is an infinite question.
and I think the answer may be:
to play
to be curious
to be loving to express love
to help
to make art
to express the truth for everybody and for nobody.
This is the thing.
This is why it is so difficult to answer a Zen question.
Because you can answer on or from many levels.
This is what they call Skillful Means.
To know what level to answer from.
(They say so , usually, to explain how come they contradict themselves
frequently.)
And what is the better level?
To answer from the same level that the question came from?
From one level up? Two?
There is no good answer.
Maybe to strengthen what is already possible for the one who asks at the moment of asking?
And does not everybody have the same connection as I do to all the levels of I?
Actually, the thing to do is to surrender to intuition.
This is the most surprising and the most beautiful.