Dharma Library

"a man is always a teller of tales, he lives surrounded by his stories and the stories of others, he sees everything that happens to him through them; and he tries to live his life as if he were telling a story" Jean-Paul Sartre

I have always been fascinated by the art of story telling and this short book was my first "taste of Zen" through the medium of the story. It is a compilation of a series…

During our recent trip to India we spent one whole day in a rowing boat being taken down river to Banares.

We had an early morning start from a sandy beach clutching our picnic boxes and water bottles to sustain us through the day. Blazing sunshine mellowed and warmed the coolness of the morning as we embarked to the amusement of the village onlookers.

The river Ganga or Ganges is for Indians…

A particular attraction of this retreat was for me the possibility of examining the stages of meditation as it deepened. In order that the process of moving towards a reasonably quiet and spacious state could become rather less haphazard, I had been trying to identify progression in my own meditation. I found the Mahamudra immensely helpful in this respect, clarifying the exact point where it is…

The "Grand Tour of Buddhist India", a major contribution to our pilgrimage programme, visited nearly all the major sites of Buddhist history and archaeology in India: Elephanta, Kanheri, Bhaja, Karla, Nasik, Ajanta, Ellora, Sanchi, Sarnath, Bodhgaya, Rajgriha, Kusinagara and Lumbini, just over the border in Nepal. Along the way we wrote notes and poetry some of which we record here. Julia has…

To work the land or to gain one's living from the land is 99% hard work and, in the history of Man, the shift from hunting and gathering to settled agriculture was perhaps the most important change in our whole structure and way of thinking.

Without agriculture where would the monasteries be? To sustain such a complex there must be a stable local economy or at least a trade route nearby. The very…

Walking across the hillside the fresh spring sunlight warmed the skin, the distant fir woods glistened and a pair of buzzards were playing in the sky.

"Funny!" he said to himself, "I am not here."

There were the feet, two of them, his feet, steadily pacing through the grasses; looking down he could see his coat collar and the binoculars hanging from their strap. Lifting his hand he observed the…

We arrived after an incredibly long journey from the north with scattered brain experiences and a chip shop repast. Was this my last meal as a normal human being? The farmhouse seemed a ridiculously long way from the road. And those gates! We seemed tobe travelling deeper and deeper into the mountain but perhaps I was entering more deeply into myself. Voices, torchlight. I recognised John…

This was the first occasion I had been at the Maenllwyd and from the start it had a magical feel to it - like entering a different time and space. Coming up the track to the house and its surroundings was just like entering a live jewel. At this time of year the place was brimful of bird sound, lambs, insects and wind in the trees. All these and the environment were, as I was to discover, to take…

The following poem was written by Martin Tebbs during the Chan retreat with Master Sheng Yen at Maenllwyd in June 1995. The last line refers the woolly socks given to Shifu by two Polish students who attended the retreat (Eds.)

Today everything is different,
Everything the same.
 
How is it different?
In a cloudless sky the swallows glide
effortlessly, leaving no trace;
Young lambs call and call.
  
How…

They said not a word
The visitor, the host
and the white chrysanthemum.
 
The Old Pond
A frog jumped in 
Plop!
What?
 
...the listener who listens in the snow,
and nothing himself
Beholds nothing that is not there,
and nothing that is.
 
What is?
 
What th'?  What that?What? What th'?
s,is,is,is,is,is,is,is,is
And I am. And I am that.
Neither and both
and that.
 
But
What is it?
  
What is
is, and I am
This.
What is
is and I…