Worldly passions inseparable from satori.
When cold say cold; When hot say hot.
A smiling face offers mercy; A troubled mind contains vicious poison.
It rains: the earth wet.
From outside the shoes, to scratch where you itch.
Ordinary mind is the Way.
Open your mouth— instantly wrong; Move your tongue— against the truth.
Watch all sentient beings with merciful eyes.
Day after day a very good day: Winds come and trees bow.
One snowflake falling on a burning furnace.
Go a thousand miles not moving a foot!
The man who's drunk water Knows if it's cool or warm.
Coming back with satori but everything just as before: Hermit Mountain's drizzle and mist, Crooked River's waves . . .
Produce Mind Without attachment to anything.
Seeking words, chasing phrases: When do you have time for satori?
Meeting Sakyamuni, kill him! Meeting Bodhidharma, kill him, too!
Spring comes: grass grows.
Much understand, much problem. Little understand, little problem. Complete DON'T KNOW, no problem.
Reach for it, and you'll miss; let it loose, and it'll follow.
Angry waves: not so dangerous as man's mind.
Never comparable to anything: How can I preach it?
Walking is Zen; sitting, too.
Teaching beyond teaching; No leaning on words and letters.
Seek satori within yourself! Where else?
The Billion Worlds, a bubble on the sea; All Buddhas and Patriarchs, a flash of lightning.
Ten thousand laws end in One : Don't stick to that, either!
To call heaven earth makes it earth? To name earth heaven makes it heaven?
From the origins nothing exists.
No ugliness in a loved child.
Killing or vivifying is in these hands.
Rich food doesn't tempt the man who has eaten.
Once you preach, the point is gone.
What is the color of the wind? Where does the rain come from?
Heaven, earth, and I: the same root. Everything and I: one thing.
No good thought, no evil thought.
With the slightest yes and no, Mind is lost in confusion.
A hungry dog bites a dry bone.
One blind man leads many blind men Into the fire hole hand in hand.
However priceless, a piece of gold In the eye is nothing but grit.
Watch your own steps!
Sitting motionless, nothing happening — Spring coming, grass growing.
Not flattered by praise, not hurt by blame.
Pictured rice cakes dissolve hunger?
Spring opens a hundred flowers — for whom?
He dies, I die - Where can we meet?
Fire is hot; water, cold.
Merciful words come out of the merciful mouth.
Need fire? Best strike a flint. Water? Dig a well.
Cast away Dharma, Not to mention non-Dharma.
Everything is true just as it is: Why dislike it? Why hate?
Alma Potter Ji Do Poep Sa Nim is the guiding teacher for the Kwan Um Zen Centers in Vienna Austria, Palma de Mallorca Spain, Vrazne Czech Republic, and Kwan Um Zen Groups in Hungary.
Vienna - Kong-an interviews- Jo Potter JDPSN