Loved the column by Shozan Jack Haubner, A Zen Zealot Comes Home, from the Sept. 2011 issue of The Sun. Here’s an excerpt to show why:
Finally my mind caught up with my mouth…My apoplexy ceased. My fury lost its redness. And, for the first time that trip, I really took them in: Dad’s once- chiseled face, collapsing with age. Mom’s hair, pinned up in a bun, one step closer to hoary and desolate white. How old they’d become. How many more visits would I even be blessed with? How many more chances to make things right?
These were not the same people who raised me. Those people existed only in my head, caged and rotted behind my tight, unhappy grin for decades while my actual parents got older, gentler, wiser; while their bodies fell apart and their souls grew deep.
Those darn Zen monks. They always write the stuff that hits closest to home.