HOÀNG-ÂN: Killing The Buddha
My answer is "an echo" to the Zen koan "What is the sound of one hand clapping?" I day dreamt standing on a cliff in the Grand Canyon shouting into the immense space of orange pink mountain tops and hearing my voice echoing back. I was more real being alone amid vast space up high. And in the echo I felt the wavelength of my deep loneliness blanketed like the sky hugging over the windswept ranges of mountains. I merged into them and was full of gratitude. I tasted death like an eternal deep sleep for I so needed rest. And from that deep silent of darkness I also tasted life. In deep pain I was conscious of being alive. Being alive to hold and stay with the pain. Being conscious to realize the pain intensified the realization that I am alive. They said that I am not a fixed ego but a process, a progression. They said that the cells that made up my body constantly died and others born. They said that every seven years I got a brand new body. Everything is in flux so is my body and so is my soul. Then nothing can withstand change and clinging to the story of the past is like swimming against the currents. The eternal now can expand or contract but being present in such eternal now is to live fully. The Christian sacred text says that we are fearfully and wonderfully made. Yes, without being arrogance I proclaim my victory. After all the molehills and the mountains, all the battles of all the wars waged against me and those i waged against the demons inside my head, I have made it to here. Tonight, after I have completed the day I shall called it a night and go to sleep for nourishment of rest. Tomorrow is another day of peace and war. Opposite complimenting each other. My head is strained and asking for rest. "If you meet a buddha in the middle of the road kill him."
