Your hand opens and closes, opens and closes. If it were always a fist or always stretched open, you would be paralysed. Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expanding, the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated as birds’ wings.
Those who read books cannot understand the teachings and, what’s more, may even go astray. But those who try to observe the things going on in the mind, and always take that which is true in their own minds as their standard; never get muddled.
It is a good practice to set apart at least one day in a year for the remembrance of one’s near and dear relatives, friends and learned people that are no more in keeping with our traditions; giving a new orientation to and infusing new life into practices that have become lifeless and meaningless to many.
