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Chapter 7: Blue Sky

The neighbor said, “He has only spoken one single sentence in two hours: ‘What a beautiful morning!’”

Lao Tzu said, “You only hear what he has said, you don’t hear what he is talking inside and controlling. Because of him my whole morning has been contaminated. And if he feels the morning is beautiful.are we blind? We can also see the morning is beautiful; what is the point of saying it? To whom is he talking?”

There are moments when you suddenly feel an expansion of consciousness. It may be listening to great music, to great poetry, or seeing a great painting, or just meditating, sitting silently, doing nothing.

Nobody can surpass Basho - no poet in the whole world, in any language - when he says, “Sitting silently, doing nothing, the spring comes and the grass grows by itself.”

Just learn to be silent, not a single ripple in your consciousness, and you are a buddha. This small barrier of language is the only barrier. Otherwise, everybody is a buddha. Hence I say: it is very simple to be a buddha.

One day, seeing that the barrier is only language, I dropped it. And if spring comes for Basho, it comes for me too. If the grass grows by itself, then why bother? I simply settled in my buddhahood.

There is no need to make any effort; all efforts are to destroy efforts, to tire you, to bring you to a moment when you completely drop dead, tired - “Enough of it!” That is the moment when a new life source, a new starry night, new roses start blossoming around you.

Soseki wrote:

All worries and troubles
have gone from my breast,
and I play joyfully
far from the world.
For a person of Zen,
no limits exist.
The blue sky must feel
ashamed to be so small.

Only a man of Zen, only a man of enlightenment can say that.

The blue sky must feel
ashamed to be so small.

Your consciousness becomes so vast, and in that vastness, in that oceanicness, who cares about trivia, whether your tie is tied rightly or wrongly? Who cares about small things? And all our worries are about small things. You have never worried about anything great. Just look back and you will not find a single thing about which you can say, “It was great that I worried about it” - just very small things.

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