if i could stop myself from judging, though an impossibility, that stopping of judging would actually be a stopping of selfing, which would of course be a moment of being awake, whatever that is, to what is not myself, which is everything, including me; but every instant, which is never anything except right now, which is timeless, which i turn into every instant to make sense of things, is another instant that i judge and make clear, to myself if not to others, my preferences and aversions, making every instant either an instant i prefer or not, like or not, thus causing me to either grasp at it or try to avoid it, when in actuality all we have to do is stop and go into the absence of ourselves, beyond our judging, to find what is always there doing what it does.

a mosquito

kept landing on my face

summer zazen