Zen Meditation – Bern – Gentle low tide and high tide, deep in courage, I walk on in the dark!
Twice a year, zen master Reding from the Honora Zen Monastery invites you to open Zen meditation in Bern in the Bremgarten cemetery.
Meditation in Bern
Why wait from day to day? Whatever may bloom blooms in the garden. Who comes and counts what blooms so beautifully? There aren't enough eyes to look at it. Mine wander from the bush to the tree. It seems to me it would be like a dream to others too.
And of the loved ones who have remained true to me and stayed with me, you would be there! How clearly the moon's light speaks to me, inspiring me for the journey: "Follow the old track faithfully, don't choose a homeland. Otherwise the hard days will bring eternal plagues. You shall change away to others, you shall wander, easily escaping every lament.” Gentle ebb and high tide, deep in courage, I wander on in the dark, climb boldly, sing cheerfully.
And the world seems good to me. I see everything pure in the mild reflection, nothing confused withering in the heat of the day. Gladly surrounded, but alone.
When the Mind wanders
It was too good for me, so it soon came to an end. Now my cheeks are bleaching, the tide has turned. The flowers are frozen, frozen veil and clover, I've lost my love, must wander deep in the snow. Happiness cannot be chased by every little hunter, with daring and renunciation must have been fought over. Diamonds walk on water! Outstretched arms stretch the dun dust to the sun! Flowers sway in your hair! Pearled branched weave veil!
Fragrant white matt pale veils! Pink, shyly muted, faint, patches of trembling lips, lips thirsty, frizzy, hot lips! Blossoms! Blossoms! kisses! Wine! Red golden rushing wine! You and me! Me and you! You?! O my homeland's golden solitude, you youthful island, green and quiet and wide, where the fairy tales of my childhood go.
I just want to see you again once! Just once I would like to wander hand in hand with my love through the distant land. You soul that a god created for me, do you hear the anxious call of longing at home?