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