Could there be anything more close to the Zen way as John Steinbeck’s transcended preacher in The Grapes of Wrath?
“I went into the wilderness like Him [Jesus], without no campin’ stuff.” The fallen, former preacher looked at the stars and looked at the sun rising. Just as Buddha did when he sat under the Bodhi tree at the night of his enlightenment. He just stared. The former preacher wasn’t sure what he was doing, watching, staring, being alert. Suddenly, he felt one with the hill that he was watching, no sense of separation from anything anymore. He felt one, and the union felt holy. (more…)