Little Houses

Today after breakfast my Ego suddenly was gone! I looked under the bed, in the cellar, beside the loo, even in the bathroom mirror, but it was gone!

I had a visitor the other day, that other day - she came to my house for the first time. Oh what a nice kitchen you have, she said. And I replied:

Okay. I did not think this through to the end, but I throw it on the table anyway, listen: There is a spider-species called the 'tent spider'

I adore the ancient eastern metaphor of the master butcher, that cut up an oxen for the emperor stating that he cut up hundreds of animals before with the same knife without ever sharpening it

A young seeker once went to see a holy man up in the mountains to get answers to all the questions that haunted him since long. When he entered the simple hut the wise resided in the holy man sternly looked at him and only said

I had this little situation - we know it is often these little situations, that loosen the handbrake of the train of thought

I would never have thought, that I would one day receive a deep and most valuable spiritual teaching by a car mechanic, including moustache and overall

I was sanding the cutting boards again these days, hen a tiny incident managed to send out a long train of thought from an abandoned station. I was rhythmically sanding away with a 120-grain paper

Mind the corners, the dust assembles in the corners, don't despair, everybody is longing, everybody is longing for belonging, you don't have to do this all alone

I was asked: “So what did you do yesterday?” And I said: “Nothing...” “Not true, come on, you're kidding!” was the answer and I said: “I swear, no lie!”

Camping beside the narrow Canal du Midi river, right by a quiet sluice, morning was sunny and mild and romantically peaceful, suddenly a boat comes upstream. A larger family on one of these comfy 15m-riveryachts

On one of my wanderings, damp late evening, weary and tired, I came to a village, little it was and though I hoped for. No official accommodation could be found, oh...one of these days

It was around 10:30 a.m. I was pushing a wheel barrow down a stony track, when I realized that I was not happy with my morning. The weather was fine, a soft breeze moved casually, but the whole morning in a way, did not feel right at all

Once a scolar asked the master. “What is your way to craft a poem?” And the master said: “It is actually more like catching a butterfly. You cannot search for it really

I had a dream the other night, or rather... Towards the break of day, as it is often, as it is, no?

One of these evenings, when I was standing on the porch in darkness, listening to the silence getting imbedbed between every new layer of freshly fallen snow, only a few moons before winter solstice

I would love to call it a wonderful viewpoint, even a mind-blowing angle, tune into your self perception and take this:

I heard about this one secluded valley, hidden way deep in the folds of the Alps, where the woodsmen have a special tradition when they cut and harvest trees

A hermit monk that lived for a long time, alone in an outpost monastery, once sent message to his order. He had grown very old and requested