the ancient masters were profound and subtle.

their wisdom was unfathomable.

there is no way to describe it:

all we can describe is their appearance.

they were careful

as someone crossing an iced-over stream.

alert as a warrior in enemy territory.

courteous as a guest.

fluid as melting ice.

shapable as a block of wood.

receptive as a valley.

clear as a glass of water.

do you have the patience to wait

till your mud settles and the water is clear?

can you remain unmoving

till the right action arises by itself?

the master doesn’t seek fulfillment.

not seeking, not expecting,

she is present, and can welcome all things.


rinse the leeks and then slice into thin slivers. saute slowly in good butter, a bit of extra virgin olive oil, with a generous squeeze of lemon, salt, pepper. until soft. fry a couple of eggs. serve with a drizzle of your favorite extra virgin olive oil (the kind you save for drizzling), another squeeze of lemon, fresh grated asiago, a sprinkle of sea salt, a crackle of pepper.

monday mornings. before sunrise. cup of jo then out to slop around in the pastures. irrigation.

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