Tag: zen

This Impertinent Moment

~ Koyote the Blind ~ Leave a comment

This moment, it is pertinent to say, has been waiting its turn from the beginning of creation. When the sleeper stirred first and uttered a tiny vibration, unaware of it––just a single movement creating the beginning of a dream––this moment of time has been waiting, waiting to appear.

Before this moment, there were many other moments––movements, thoughts, words, actions, concerns, fights, death, life, survival, history, planetary events, starlight floating about in the heavens.

Before this moment, there is an ocean of time. After this moment, another equally infinite ocean of time.

This moment is here; empty and meaningless, surrounded by oceans of time and possibility. There will be a time when this moment is not; and whatever is here now, will not be. When this moment is over, the lights will be no more and the the path trail of light that comes into the eyes and makes its way into an unknown jungle of electrical fires inside a mass of liquid and brilliance called the brain will no longer mark a path.

This moment will then be complete, without a trail, without breath, without movement, without a present.

Just a Moment in this Room

~ Koyote the Blind ~ Leave a comment

It is pertinent to say that we are sitting in a room, surrounded by four walls. Outside the walls there’s a world of people, and lights, and darkness. We receive the subtle vibrations, the sounds that come from the world. And as we move together this world outside begins to fade away slowly, like the remnants of a dream just before beginning to awake.

Above us there is a ceiling, beyond which the vast space and the infinite stars thereof continue into an endless expanse, seemingly unmoving, serene, peaceful; giving a hint, to the eyes that see, of an ocean of infinity.

Below us there seems to be a floor of solid mass; made, of course, mostly of empty space and small particles of vibrating energy–below which lies another ocean of fire and magma.

We seem to be in a room of four walls, divided and separated above and below from oceans of rock, and mud,, and fire and space. We sit in this room where the darkness and the light, the shadows and subtle currents of air, circulate between us. We sit in this room, sensing the presence of one another–the polite quiet attention of an observer. We sit in this room in a brief moment of time, sharing a space, sharing a moment.