Cleaning Your Bowl

It came to me at the end of a two hour pastoral cycle as if as some reward for the clarity of mind attained from that elemental excursion. The cycle itself into the empty misty back roads between Barrhead and Howwood and then along the sustrans path to Paisley Canal was remarkable if only for the complete absence of people and cars en route. To be sure, my routes are always blissfully quiet (that's why they're roots) but today was unduly blissfull. It seemed that in spite of covering some 20 miles I passed no-one and no-one passed me. And it wasn't even cold in spite of it being mid December. Sure, there was a little drizzle, and it was overcast and misty but surely people know how to walk in the rain? Apparently not, which suits me just fine. Because it is the emptiness and complete lack of distraction, along with that moving blood and those pastoral and primal landscapes, that lets you into your Self. And it's this Self, this Master, who will tell you to 'clean your bowl'. And of course, the bowl is not a bowl but an animal body and the 'vessel' that contains emptiness.

 

 





Who are you, the pupil asked the master. There is no who, the master replied. Then, what are you, the pupil asked. And the master replied: I am awake!


 

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