Through the Glass

Stefan Sencerz

December 7, 2025

When I was going into the mountains, my friend the drummer told me what happened when he was a child. His little pet parrot escaped from a cage where she lived her entire life only to get smashed against the first window glass she encountered. She was thrashing there, hitting it over and over and over again until she dropped on the floor, all broken. It was hard to think about it without sadness, he said. It was hard to think about it without anger.

I was sitting with it six days on my meditation cushion trying to pay attention. Each day pain in my knees, pain in my back, pain penetrating my whole body. The teacher kept rejecting each and every answer that seemed even remotely plausible. Over and over and over again. Until I stopped thinking.

I spent almost the entire last night on my mat doing zazen. Still, nothing happened.

Then, on the seventh morning, something thawed. The sky was blue; the clouds were white. The foliage of autumn leaves was spread like brocade over the valley. I was on the top of the world dancing.

I returned home.

My baby son was ill in the hospital. Tubes were sticking out from his arms and torso. I was watching him through the glass, not able to do anything.

I tried to chant. Every sutra, every dharani, every mantra I know. Still nothing!

Smashed against the window glass, I tried to pay attention. It was difficult…  

leaves fall on leaves …

a stray kitten on the stairs

purrs her mantra

Stefan Sencerz, born in in Warsaw, Poland, came to the United States to study philosophy and Zen Buddhism. He teaches philosophy, Western and Eastern, at Texas A&M University, Corpus Christi. His essays appeared in professional philosophy journals (mostly in the areas of animal ethics and metaethics) and his poems and short stories appeared in literary journals. Stefan has been active on the spoken-word scene winning the slam-masters poetry slam in conjunction with the National Poetry Slam in Madison Wisconsin, in 2008, as well as several poetry slams in San Antonio, Austin, Houston, and Chicago.

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