the recursive I am...
I am not the victim of various forces. I am the source of the forces that shape the "I" and am responsible for that shape. "I am" is the fallacy nevertheless, leaving just the shape of what I know. So where does the responsibility fit in? This is the question that interrupts my zazen, that in its interruption keeps me thinking instead of falling back on the infinitely-small space behind myself where I tend to think realization resides. And yet, the residence of the real me is recursive and self-perpetuating. Intellectually, I am stuck. At the same time, I am aware that intellectualizing all this is counterproductive.
What (who (why)) is all this moving toward?
all I have is here in this, somewhere.