Snowbound Meditation

Fourteen degrees below zero Fahrenheit,

Heaven and earth hold a single breath; all sounds return to their root.

Snow falls without sound—

It is time sitting in meditation for the mountains and forests.

The bare branches speak no bitterness;

The white birch knows the cold and warmth.

With not a single arising thought,

All realms become clear of themselves.

Winter hides in the bones,

Summer is tempered in fire;

Face the coldest nine days without evasion,

Endure the hottest three periods without escape.

When cold comes, let it be cold;

When warmth departs, let it depart—

The Way has never lain in avoidance.

When hungry, eat:

One mouthful of the world’s human warmth and smoke.

When weary, sleep:

One pillow of the vast, lucid dream of heaven and earth.

Carrying water feels no burden;

Drinking tea speaks of no lightness.

Every movement, every gesture—

Is a walking of the sutra.

Tai Chi moves slowly,

Yin and yang turn of their own accord;

Yoga breathes once,

Body and mind unite as one.

Without clinging, without grasping,

Each day is a good day.

Close the book:

Wind turns the pages of snow.

Lift the brush:

The heart settles into emptiness.

In motion there is stillness;

In stillness there is life.

Like clouds freely unfolding and gathering,

Asking neither whence nor whither.

Zen

Is facing without entanglement—

When snow comes, simply be white;

Is the unmuddied immediacy of now—

When the forest is still, it is deep.

A single thought like water

Bears mountains and rivers,

Nourishes all beings.

Snow covers all things,

Yet water—

Always flows toward spring.

— Wu Mingjie, Fengyang Daoist Traditional Chinese Medicine