Simultaneously I Am Myself, The

The Sun Is Roaring, It Fills To Bursting Each Crystal Of Snow. I Flush With Feeling, Moved Beyond My Comprehension, And Once Again, The Warm Tears Freeze Upon My Face. These Rocks And Mountains, All This Matter, The Snow Itself, The Air- The Earth Is Ringing. All Is Moving, Full Of Power, Full Of Light.

I Like To Hear And Smell The Countryside, The Land That My Characters Inhabit. I Don’t Want These Characters To Step Off The Page, I Want Them To Step Out Of The Landscape.

In Zazen, One Is One's Present Self, What One Was, And What One Will Be, All At Once.

You See ... A Man Like Me, A Cautious Man, Has His Life All Figured Out According To A Pattern, And Then The Pattern Flies Apart. You Run Around For Quite A While Trying To Repair It, Until One Day You Straighten Up Again With An Armful Of Broken Pieces, And You See That The World Has Gone On Without You And You Can Never Catch Up With Your Old Life, And You Must Begin All Over Again.

In The Clearness Of This Himalayan Air, Mountains Draw Near, And In Such Splendor, Tears Come Quietly To My Eyes And Cool On My Sunburned Cheeks. This Is Not Mere Soft-mindedness, Nor Am I All That Silly With The Altitude. My Head Has Cleared In These Weeks Free Of Intrusions- Mail, Telephones, People And Their Needs- And I Respond To Things Spontaneously, Without Defensive Or Self-conscious Screens. Still, All This Feeling Is Astonishing: Not So Long Ago I Could Say Truthfully That I Had Not Shed A Tear In Twenty Years.