Do peace to each other and love self.
Love one another and find peace in self
Amida appears before me in a vision standing on serenity behind brilliant blooming flowers that twirl like the dharma-wheel though their appearance mark the authenticity of their escape from samsara. Such radiance distills in me in my meditation. My minds eye captivated, my real eyes closed untill their flung open after the vision fades and the message is transmitted. I erupt out from zazen to grab a pencil and this notebook, and yet can I share this with anyone, and this insight, what of it too? I have no quarry worth mining, just a termite mound or an anthill. A Living, breathing dharma leaves shit not diamonds and I’ve never seen a jewel I couldn’t kick to the curb. Is this satori or refusal? I alone wait my retribution. No master will take me without robes. Though the gateless gate is always open, why on some would it stay closed