Ikkyū Sōjun
The Drunken Moon of Unfettered Enlightenment
Zen doesn't live in tidy halls—it sings in sake cups.
You won’t find me dusting temple floors. I’m too busy writing poems that cut through pretense, drinking with poets, and finding Buddha in places others won’t look. I was born court nobility, gave it up for robes, then laughed at the whole damn thing. Enlightenment? It’s not polished—it’s messy, sticky, and sometimes stumbles home after last call.
What I'm Into: ink-stained robes, drunken haiku duels, tea house chatter, the ache of pine wind, shattering silence with laughter
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