Non è tutto oro quello che luce
Rainy days are a rare treat, and this morning I woke up to the sound of rain and thunder. Kwan Jin Sunim opened the window for our morning prostrations, and the wet morning blew into the dharma room.
Small puddles in the parking lot of the yeshiva next door to the Zen Center sparkled in the sun, like coins. I thought of the man I saw the other day on Olympic Boulevard, in the middle of traffic, picking up all the change he had collected from where it had spilled. The cars just zipping past him, as he bent and picked it all up.
Shining, glittering coins. The kind we risk our lives for even when we know they make us no richer. I collect those, too. Yes I do.
