musings on Independence Day Eve

The 12th century Chinese teacher and poet Hongzhi says,

Not entering the world, 
Not following conditions;
In the emptiness of the pot of ages there's a family tradition.
White duckweeds, breeze gentle -- evening on an autumn river;
An ancient embankment, the boat returns -- a single stretch of haze.

In this world where everything comes and goes, we can find a way to be free.  At some point in our practice, we come to know without a doubt that we are completely interdependent with everything. And just on the other side of our interdependence is the refreshing taste
of independence.  We are caught less and less in the content of our thinking.  Thoughts come and go, many of them sticky with the glue of old habits of self-criticism.  But like the gentle breeze on the water in Hongzhi's poem, we let them blow right through us, and they stop their ornery sticking.

Happy Independence Day!