Dharma Library
A large collection of articles, from past issues of New Chan Forum and more besides.
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A Guestmaster's View
John Crook |The role of guestmaster at a Chan retreat entails the responsibility for ensuring the comfort of the participants and visiting Master, the availability of necessary supplies and the organisation of affairs to ensure the even flow of the retreat programme. Together with Chief Cook and the Retreat Disciplinarian the work of the Guestmaster maintains the background quality of a retreat.
When I…
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Opening The Treasure House
John Crook |from the "Sermons to the Stones and Trees" tapes, Summer 1991
"If you do these things for some time the treasure house will open naturally and you will enjoy it fully." These are the concluding words of a Soto Zen ritual. Remember: "The treasure house will open naturally."
In meditation, it is not that one has to work desperately hard to get somewhere. The practice of meditation should be…
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Everything is as it is - This in Itself is Remarkable
John Crook |If one is attempting to go into Zen deeply, to understand the relationship between one's mind and the universe, then it becomes important to turn over and over again, going backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, many times over, the same refrain, the same theme. Not with the analytical intellect, nor with the mind of one who seeks explanation, but within the context of zazen, wherein…
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Winter Buddha
John Crook |After midnight, when the still streets
drip from the trees audibly soft leaves
and I smile to hear sleepy voices
silenced by a closing window's sound,
I take a match to an incense stick
and set bright the dark candle in my private shrine.
With six slow breaths the pillared flame
sets this brooding throne aglow
where, pivoted upon some silent thought,
the golden face spans inwardly
the space between the… -
Maenllwyd
John Crook |Arriving in the yard
I switch off the engine
and gaze at the view,
evening sun on the rolling hills
yellow fields, dark woods.
In the sudden silence
a buzzard mews,
distantly guiding sheep
dogs bark.
Entering the gate
I come home to my hermitage,
welcoming trees brood
and the old door creaks on rusty hinges
falling plaster needs sweeping from the floor,
softly on cold flags moisture gleams.
Lighting the fire
I…
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