Forgetting
“There were now early spring mornings with the happy dogs, me forgetting the Path of Buddhism and just being glad; looking around at new little birds not yet summer fat; the dogs yawning and almost swallowing my Dharma; the grass waving, hens chuckling.
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“Spring nights, practicing Dhyana under the cloudy moon. I’d see the truth: ‘Here, this is It. The world as it is, is Heaven, I’m looking for a Heaven outside what there is, it’s only this poor pitiful world that’s Heaven.
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“Ah, if I could realize, if I could forget myself and devote my meditations to the freeing, the awakening and the blessedness of all living creatures everywhere I’d realize what there is, is ecstasy.’” — Jack Kerouac; The Dharma Bums, p. 141
Nick Flook (Flooko)
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