For point of emphasis, however, I must note that it is my family-tradition in Zen (and the doorway to any awakening) to not only hear the sound of the birds — or the car passing by outside, or the sound of a dog barking, or a chainsaw in the distance — but in the hearing (seeing, smelling, tasting, etc.), to turn the wordless questioning-awareness to the source of awareness: “WHO hears that?” “What witnesses this breath, happening, this floor below? Who witnesses? What is it? Who?” Only this turning leaves thinking no road to wander aimlessly on, and no “thing” to focus on: Only don’t know appears vastly, boundlessly, infinitely, right at that spot. Then the bird-sound and you become one. The car-sound and you become one. Everything and you become one, which means all these names and false distinctions just melt into emptiness, and there is only the perfect freedom everywhere of the Unborn.

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