At the zen centre recently, I found the Master in the kitchen, with his Ipad, or some kind of pad, showing visitors pictures of his granddaughter. Since he speaks little English, he relied on the images and a few words to let us know that this baby lives in Toronto. He showed a video of Eva in brilliant pink, sitting in her chair, eating grapes that seemed huge for her tiny fingers, resting in her mother's lap and laughing at a little dog. Then he showed still pictures that turned out to be single frames captured from the video we had just watched: Eva smiling, Eva waving, Eva gazing at the brightly coloured mobile above her crib. It was as if he had stopped each moment to dwell more thoroughly in it, which, as I understand it, is exactly the lesson of zen.