Do You Mind? It Doesn't Matter
Please pardon my indulging in a discourse, some might say a rant, on the precision of language. Or, rather, the presumptions we make in regard to verbal concepts we use every day. And the potential light that closer examination may shed upon your Zen perspective.
It occurs to me that language itself holds clues to Buddhist truths, especially those usages that go largely unexamined, standing as cultural memes, customs, or precepts, so to speak. That we speak of such inherited notions as a "manner of speaking," as does Buddha, in explaining his teaching, betrays the fact that we intuitively regard attempts to reduce reality to words as inherently futile, if not entirely fatuous.
This intuition—not to dignify it as insight—has come to me often, most recently while "making the bed," specifically a single sized guest bed, originally our granddaughter's. The cover sheet is a flower print, matching the rest of the bedding set, one side being the "front," the other side being, well, the "back." When spreading it over the fitted sheet, ordinarily one would make sure that the front side (with the best rendering of the print) would face down, so that when one turns back the cover to welcome a guest, or oneself, into the warm embrace of the bed sheets, the "good" side would be revealed.
