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The weather alters our mood only to the extent to which we indulge the ideas and concepts that it can. To a mind free of such notions the weather is just more phenomena to be seen through.
Here language always fails.
Sometimes beautifully, sometimes less so
But always unable to touch what it reaches for
The anxiety and fear of a week ago is gone. Traces remain as ever-diminishing memory. Then as now, it was, is and will only ever be movements of thought. There is nothing more than a conjuring of images and feelings, none of which have anything to do with what is here, now.
Open. Open to what is. Open to what is not. Open to everything and open to nothing at all. Open to life and open to death. Open, open, open…
Whatsoever is your attitude towards life will be your attitude towards death…
What is the Zen attitude towards death?
None of this is about happiness or sadness, joy or sorrow, hope or despair per se. It is whatever we find when we attend to this, and this moment only, free from any ideas about what should or should not be here.