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