waiting at midnight in the bus station in mandi, i fell into conversation with one of a group of three youngsters, keen to practice his english. he posed me the question: do many people have LED tv screens in scotland? i said: what are LED screens? he told me that they were the latest. i told him that i didn't pay much attention to the advances of technology. he considered this, then said: we need tvs and computers because . . . to do something when we are bored. i considered this and said: yes, but . . . what is boredom? if there is a void at the centre of life then . . . is it not best to face it rather try and escape from it? i left my question hanging, because my thoughts were running along: but why is it best to face it? if there is really a void what is wrong with trying to escape from it? joe simpson certainly didn't choose to touch his void.
i had met quite a few travellers in india - and once a nepalese on a bus - who had participated in 10 day Vipassana courses, freely available in many countries. for quite a while i had been interested in doing one myself. people had described it as: "difficult", "challenging", "but yes, very rewarding".
i copied out the poster in my residential cell, which read:
the course consists of ten hours of meditation for ten days. noble silence is maintained between all participants ('noble' because silence is noble), but you can talk with the teacher at allocated times if you have any queries. the course is free of charge, and provided for by donations from previous meditators who feel they have benefited from the course and wish to allow others to have the same experience. we were woken by a bell at 4:00 am, then spent two hours meditating in the hall from 4:30 to 6:30, then had a simple breakfast - a glass of milk or tea and a plate of something like porridge or kedgeree or idly (rice cakes.) then we rested until 8:00 then meditated in 55 minute sections, broken by five minute breaks, until 11:00 when the main meal was served - always rather tasty, always chapattis and rice and dal and sabji (veg sauce) and a little sweet item - then it was the main rest of the day - or meeting and talking with the teacher if one so desired - until 13:00, when afternoon meditation commenced and lasted till 17:00, whereupon there was the last little intake of food - a banana, rice crispies and warm milk or tea. the last hour meditating was between 18:00 and 19:00. i liked this hour the best because it was the last hour and it stood alone and there was always a nice dimming of the natural light between entering and leaving the hall. at 19:15 there was a video in which vipassana teacher Satya Narayan Goenka gives a commentary on the techniques which unfolded as the days progressed. everyone was riveted with attention on goenka's words, partly because the video sound quality was less than good, but also because he was a fascinating speaker, at times peppering his speech with little parables and stories with funny endings, while other times becoming so involved with explaining some intricate aspect of buddhist philosophy. one intricate intellectual observation immediately followed the next, and was always expressed clearly. the video about an hour then we convened in the hall again for a nightcap little meditation of 15/20 minutes before retiring for the night.
i loved living a monastic lifestyle for ten days; no decision about what to do when; only meditating, resting, eating, sleeping, a change of activity beckoned by the ring of a bell. we were asked not to read anything or write anything or engage in any activity other than observing the self. i loved the noble silence. not only words, but communication on any level was to be avoided between meditators. it was to be entirely an interior experience. all the same, even without ever having looked into his eyes, after ten days of sharing a room with my sikh turbaned roommate i felt that i knew something about who he was. the very fact of two people sharing their presences implies communication, whether it is desired or not. i knew how eagerly he anticipated the five minutes rest by the way his body fell onto his bed. i could not remain unaware of how he gradually, meditatively crossed the threshold of slumber to greet a new day of meditation, and how he gave a little toss here and a little turn there, contentedly giving himself over to sleep again at the end of the day.
one evening i came out of the hall and was arrested by the sight of a bright shining white full moon. yes, that is why they say 'an arresting sight', it was as if i could not move, its contemplation had taken me captive. how can such a massive ball just hang there in the sky? is hang the correct verb? the moon orbits around the earth, but for all the speed it must hurtle in order to orbit the earth in 24 hours, it seems to hang there motionless, just hanging there... i resolved to sleep outside that muggy night. i would far rather sleep under the cool silvery gaze of such a moon than enclosed in the stuffy room under the slowly rotating fan . . . i gave it half an hour and stole out with my sleeping mat and pillow under my arm, and made straight for the weedy flat ground behind the meditation hall, beyond the pagoda in construction. it only took a few minutes of settling down before torchlights flashed nearby, and a couple more minutes before they alit on my face. i had prepared my response: kamre me bahut garmi hai. kya main yaha sosakta hu? (it is hot in the room, can i sleep here?) it was the first time i had spoken to the teacher, and i wanted to employ the little hindi that had come my way. but he responded in english that was dangerous to sleep here. why, i asked? it always gets hot and humid before the rain begins, and the snakes come out, he responded. better sleep in your room. we were concerned for you. you are our guest, we only want your safety. i told him that i like to sleep outside, and often prefer it. after a few minutes back in my room one of the assistants was at the door, beckoning me out and showing me to a bed they had prepared on the porch outside the kitchen, underneath a powerful whirring fan. such courteousness one receives from indians from time to time.
vipassana my nose! that was all it was about the first three days. concentrate on thy breathing. don't even try to regulate it the way some meditation techniques propose, says goenka's recorded voice in the meditation hall (but i say: but as soon as i become aware of my breathing, it is no longer natural and i have to make a decision as to whether to breathe in or out or how slowly and how long a pause to leave between breathing in and out and out and in) observe the sensations on thy nose. that is all thou must do, whether the sensations be tingling or prickling or itching or numb or warm or cool or moist or dry, observe the sensations attentively attentively... goenka explained during the evening videos that the purpose of this was to hone one's attention, to sharpen the mind to a highly acute single-pointedness. let nothing distract you. keep focused, keep calm, concentrate on thy nose.
as the days progressed, this field of attention extended to the entire body. with thy single-pointed mind, scan the whole body, head to foot, head to foot and do nothing but observe the sensations. remaining motionless, with eyes closed, do nothing but observe the sensations. goenka expounded the theory in the videos, which, he was proud to say, were the pure teachings of the buddha, preserved intact over 2,500 years, now taught to you. the aims of the course are to develop the awareness and equanimity of the participant. one's own body is the sole object of study from which all truth can be arrived. the truth learned while meditating can then be applied to interactions with the world outside. one experiences sensations in the body which come, and go. one realises the impermanence of all bodily sensations, and also the impermanence of everything in the physical world. everything is in a constant flux of births and death and risings and fallings and comings and goings. suffering is generated within the individual who reacts either with pleasure or displeasure at the impermanent things of the physical world. first the senses record the objective information - sensations or smells or sights or sounds or tastes, or mental stimuli - then another bodily aparatus judges this information and labels it as pleasant or unpleasant. suffering even comes from pleasure because when the pleasurable sensation ends, its passing is lamented. a craving has developed. after registering the sensation, dissemble the judging apparatus. learn non-reaction. be impervious to the sensations.
goenka emphasies that vipassana is entirely non-religious, non-sectarian. all religious rituals or practising of yoga had to abandoned for the 10 days, "to give the technique a fair trial". even though a participant may find it useful to chant the name of a deity or a holy person while meditating, this is not the way of vipassana. vipassana, in all its simplicity, is a technique available to anybody with a body and bodily sensations. following firmly the footsteps of the buddha, goenka affirms that after becoming liberated from the bonds of attachment, it then becomes our goal to work towards the liberation of those who surround us, to desire the liberation of all beings. bhavatu sabba mangalam, goenka chants in his deep drawling drone at the end of meditation sessions, and at the end of each video, with his hand upraised, eyes closed: let all beings be happy.
(as regards JC, goenka commented one night: what a great liberated being he was, hanging there in the throes of death, his only thought for his torturers is to forgive them. what perfect equanimity of mind!
the crux
the crux is that liberation can only come from within you. saying that you are a follower of jesus can only mean anything if it means that you too wish to attain the same state of liberation as him.)
constant, uninterrupted equanimity of mind is the dharma - the art of living, the secret to living well, to key to liberation from suffering. goenka's voice is imprinted indelibly in my mind from the recorded commentaries at the beginning of meditation: always remain equanimous with an understanding of the law of impermanence, anichaa, anichaa, anichaa.
yes, in the long run everything is impermanent, my thoughts ran, but living is composed of individual moments, and the sensation of a moment may consist of pain, and for the experiencer of that sensation the pain might as well be permanent because it is there, o it is there!
- always remain equanimous, this too shall pass
but how can this thinking aid my grandmother who experiences pain moment after moment and the pain is likely to stay until the moment her body goes away?
first i tried sitting cross-legged and absolutely still; the aim was not to move at all for the whole hour, but after fifteen minutes i was craving a more comfortable position, and goenka's exhortation to only observe, only observe was disregarded. many times i had to disregard it for the sake of my comfort. still, from time to time i have a penchant for physical challenge and occasionally tried my utmost to sit it out. cross-legged, i can do this. it is only a sensation. what is a sensation? concentrate on your breathing; that'll take your mind off it. ah, calm breathing, remain calm, remain calm. i am equanimous in the face of any crossed-legged sensation. how can my legs hurt so much? all i am doing is sitting down. o, this is difficult, this is reeeeeallly testing my mettle now. what is this? a voluntary torture technique? why should i participate in this? i am my own master and i choose a little bit more comfort, please, please, no no, i can do it, yes we can do this, come on come on, hold on dear brother, o meditation shmeditation meditizzle shmizzle! i might as well just admit that meditation is not for me, it is blatantly not my cup of tea. aaaaaoooow, my legs are really protesting, they would really rather not maintain this posture any longer, O Lord, help me in my hour of need, give me strength, poor meditator that i am, in my hour of need!
thirty minutes was the most that i carried on such shinanigans before changing - telling myself flatly that it was necessary - to change posture.
i resolved to speak to the the teacher about this. i told him it was becoming a grueling physical challenge for me; i compared it to my experience of running in a race, where a barrier of pain always presents itself to me. my will would have me running faster and faster but my body protested with pain, and there is always the uncomfortable challenge of finding the balance...
the teacher said that sitting cross-legged was not necessary. if it is too painful then find a position that is more comfortable. the aim is to remain immobile, and to always only observe sensations, always with an equanimous mind.
my thoughts ran, o how my thoughts ran! one thing i learned during the course was how difficult it was for me to control the rambunctious dog that is my mind, who constantly wants to roll around in the terrain of past events, sniffing and reviewing anywhich trivial event lodged in my memory, or else bounding ahead and eagerly panting in expectation of events to come. will i get a visa for pakistan when my indian visa runs out at the end of august? i would love so much to pass through pakistan, so my thoughts ran, and will i ever meet shokouh in iran? and what will it be like to meet her? ah, i would love to learn some more portuguese, spend some time in portugal, maybe brazil. that italian guy frederico talked about a wonderful community in north brazil...
calmness, friend, calmness, i have to remind myself. my mind will be still, my mind will be still....
[stillness of mind for an indeterminate period of time]
places drift into my mind. the feeling of being in a place: that little hut on the north tip of skye, the waves crashing below, the road to ben rinnes: braes of enzie, mulben, maggieknockater, dufftown, the road to ben rinnes in summer, in spring, autumn and winter, luibleathann bothy, then suddenly - a street in seville, a little chuch in a village in the pyrenees, a motorway peage in france, a crowded street in kathmandu, they come thick and fast, and as soon as i am aware of them, i have to reign them in - stillness, stillness (we are not supposed to make any mental verbalisation or visualisation, but i need to repeat this mantra to keep my mind in control) - "still mind" i say to myself as i breathe in, "calm mind" i say as i breathe out, then suddenly it is a scene when i am ten years old, in my parent's sunny garden, seeing how many times i can head a football back and forth between my father, or i am walking along a street in the evening in aberdeen with colin, or i am sitting in aberdeen university computer room at one in the morning, listening to online jazz music while trying to finish a pesky essay, what am i doing? i am cycling, i am running, i am beneath trees, i am at a party in oxford with francis and caitlin, i am meeting up with kevin and ally and finlay and mum and dad at belfast ferry port in the rain, ah my mind will not stay still. i crave mental activity, i crave it. what is wrong with sitting quietly, with a reposed mind for an hour? is it too boring? must i always play, as it were, a video of past memories and future imaginings? oh, it is too boring, i crave sensations, i want to swim in the sea! i want to run along the beach! i want to bake potatoes in the fire, and eat them! ahh, sensazioni, sensazioni! at the very least i want to read some poetry or write some poetry, i want to eat some cheese. aaaah, roasted peanuts. ahhhh sweet sweet honey...
retrospectively, i understood very well the young lad's comment in the bus stand about the human need/ great desire for entertainment.
these words came to me in the meditation hall ('though we weren't supposed to be thinking of anything) and i wrote them down (although we weren't supposed to write anything either):
and these words i wrote when i was in nepal and read over them again yesterday while flicking through my old damp notebook. they seem garbled but possibly sincere. they present a peculiar slant, the thoughts of one moment in time. what they do is deny the fact that we are both soul and body. we can never really escape our nailedness to the material world, however much we want to stretch our arms out to the Infinite
so what does my being filled with love mean to the taxi-driver who wants to supply me with his service?
i had met quite a few travellers in india - and once a nepalese on a bus - who had participated in 10 day Vipassana courses, freely available in many countries. for quite a while i had been interested in doing one myself. people had described it as: "difficult", "challenging", "but yes, very rewarding".
i copied out the poster in my residential cell, which read:
VIPASSANA
A Technique of Meditation
for
Spiritual Development
Internal Peace
Freedom from Mental Impurities (through self-observation)
Equanimity of Mind
Awareness of Each Passing Moment
Health and Happiness
Gradual Unfoldment of Truth
Coping with All Sorts of Stress Situations
Enjoying Real Peace,
Real Happiness,
Real Harmony
the course consists of ten hours of meditation for ten days. noble silence is maintained between all participants ('noble' because silence is noble), but you can talk with the teacher at allocated times if you have any queries. the course is free of charge, and provided for by donations from previous meditators who feel they have benefited from the course and wish to allow others to have the same experience. we were woken by a bell at 4:00 am, then spent two hours meditating in the hall from 4:30 to 6:30, then had a simple breakfast - a glass of milk or tea and a plate of something like porridge or kedgeree or idly (rice cakes.) then we rested until 8:00 then meditated in 55 minute sections, broken by five minute breaks, until 11:00 when the main meal was served - always rather tasty, always chapattis and rice and dal and sabji (veg sauce) and a little sweet item - then it was the main rest of the day - or meeting and talking with the teacher if one so desired - until 13:00, when afternoon meditation commenced and lasted till 17:00, whereupon there was the last little intake of food - a banana, rice crispies and warm milk or tea. the last hour meditating was between 18:00 and 19:00. i liked this hour the best because it was the last hour and it stood alone and there was always a nice dimming of the natural light between entering and leaving the hall. at 19:15 there was a video in which vipassana teacher Satya Narayan Goenka gives a commentary on the techniques which unfolded as the days progressed. everyone was riveted with attention on goenka's words, partly because the video sound quality was less than good, but also because he was a fascinating speaker, at times peppering his speech with little parables and stories with funny endings, while other times becoming so involved with explaining some intricate aspect of buddhist philosophy. one intricate intellectual observation immediately followed the next, and was always expressed clearly. the video about an hour then we convened in the hall again for a nightcap little meditation of 15/20 minutes before retiring for the night.
i loved living a monastic lifestyle for ten days; no decision about what to do when; only meditating, resting, eating, sleeping, a change of activity beckoned by the ring of a bell. we were asked not to read anything or write anything or engage in any activity other than observing the self. i loved the noble silence. not only words, but communication on any level was to be avoided between meditators. it was to be entirely an interior experience. all the same, even without ever having looked into his eyes, after ten days of sharing a room with my sikh turbaned roommate i felt that i knew something about who he was. the very fact of two people sharing their presences implies communication, whether it is desired or not. i knew how eagerly he anticipated the five minutes rest by the way his body fell onto his bed. i could not remain unaware of how he gradually, meditatively crossed the threshold of slumber to greet a new day of meditation, and how he gave a little toss here and a little turn there, contentedly giving himself over to sleep again at the end of the day.
one evening i came out of the hall and was arrested by the sight of a bright shining white full moon. yes, that is why they say 'an arresting sight', it was as if i could not move, its contemplation had taken me captive. how can such a massive ball just hang there in the sky? is hang the correct verb? the moon orbits around the earth, but for all the speed it must hurtle in order to orbit the earth in 24 hours, it seems to hang there motionless, just hanging there... i resolved to sleep outside that muggy night. i would far rather sleep under the cool silvery gaze of such a moon than enclosed in the stuffy room under the slowly rotating fan . . . i gave it half an hour and stole out with my sleeping mat and pillow under my arm, and made straight for the weedy flat ground behind the meditation hall, beyond the pagoda in construction. it only took a few minutes of settling down before torchlights flashed nearby, and a couple more minutes before they alit on my face. i had prepared my response: kamre me bahut garmi hai. kya main yaha sosakta hu? (it is hot in the room, can i sleep here?) it was the first time i had spoken to the teacher, and i wanted to employ the little hindi that had come my way. but he responded in english that was dangerous to sleep here. why, i asked? it always gets hot and humid before the rain begins, and the snakes come out, he responded. better sleep in your room. we were concerned for you. you are our guest, we only want your safety. i told him that i like to sleep outside, and often prefer it. after a few minutes back in my room one of the assistants was at the door, beckoning me out and showing me to a bed they had prepared on the porch outside the kitchen, underneath a powerful whirring fan. such courteousness one receives from indians from time to time.
vipassana my nose! that was all it was about the first three days. concentrate on thy breathing. don't even try to regulate it the way some meditation techniques propose, says goenka's recorded voice in the meditation hall (but i say: but as soon as i become aware of my breathing, it is no longer natural and i have to make a decision as to whether to breathe in or out or how slowly and how long a pause to leave between breathing in and out and out and in) observe the sensations on thy nose. that is all thou must do, whether the sensations be tingling or prickling or itching or numb or warm or cool or moist or dry, observe the sensations attentively attentively... goenka explained during the evening videos that the purpose of this was to hone one's attention, to sharpen the mind to a highly acute single-pointedness. let nothing distract you. keep focused, keep calm, concentrate on thy nose.
as the days progressed, this field of attention extended to the entire body. with thy single-pointed mind, scan the whole body, head to foot, head to foot and do nothing but observe the sensations. remaining motionless, with eyes closed, do nothing but observe the sensations. goenka expounded the theory in the videos, which, he was proud to say, were the pure teachings of the buddha, preserved intact over 2,500 years, now taught to you. the aims of the course are to develop the awareness and equanimity of the participant. one's own body is the sole object of study from which all truth can be arrived. the truth learned while meditating can then be applied to interactions with the world outside. one experiences sensations in the body which come, and go. one realises the impermanence of all bodily sensations, and also the impermanence of everything in the physical world. everything is in a constant flux of births and death and risings and fallings and comings and goings. suffering is generated within the individual who reacts either with pleasure or displeasure at the impermanent things of the physical world. first the senses record the objective information - sensations or smells or sights or sounds or tastes, or mental stimuli - then another bodily aparatus judges this information and labels it as pleasant or unpleasant. suffering even comes from pleasure because when the pleasurable sensation ends, its passing is lamented. a craving has developed. after registering the sensation, dissemble the judging apparatus. learn non-reaction. be impervious to the sensations.
goenka emphasies that vipassana is entirely non-religious, non-sectarian. all religious rituals or practising of yoga had to abandoned for the 10 days, "to give the technique a fair trial". even though a participant may find it useful to chant the name of a deity or a holy person while meditating, this is not the way of vipassana. vipassana, in all its simplicity, is a technique available to anybody with a body and bodily sensations. following firmly the footsteps of the buddha, goenka affirms that after becoming liberated from the bonds of attachment, it then becomes our goal to work towards the liberation of those who surround us, to desire the liberation of all beings. bhavatu sabba mangalam, goenka chants in his deep drawling drone at the end of meditation sessions, and at the end of each video, with his hand upraised, eyes closed: let all beings be happy.
(as regards JC, goenka commented one night: what a great liberated being he was, hanging there in the throes of death, his only thought for his torturers is to forgive them. what perfect equanimity of mind!
the crux
the crux is that liberation can only come from within you. saying that you are a follower of jesus can only mean anything if it means that you too wish to attain the same state of liberation as him.)
constant, uninterrupted equanimity of mind is the dharma - the art of living, the secret to living well, to key to liberation from suffering. goenka's voice is imprinted indelibly in my mind from the recorded commentaries at the beginning of meditation: always remain equanimous with an understanding of the law of impermanence, anichaa, anichaa, anichaa.
yes, in the long run everything is impermanent, my thoughts ran, but living is composed of individual moments, and the sensation of a moment may consist of pain, and for the experiencer of that sensation the pain might as well be permanent because it is there, o it is there!
- always remain equanimous, this too shall pass
but how can this thinking aid my grandmother who experiences pain moment after moment and the pain is likely to stay until the moment her body goes away?
first i tried sitting cross-legged and absolutely still; the aim was not to move at all for the whole hour, but after fifteen minutes i was craving a more comfortable position, and goenka's exhortation to only observe, only observe was disregarded. many times i had to disregard it for the sake of my comfort. still, from time to time i have a penchant for physical challenge and occasionally tried my utmost to sit it out. cross-legged, i can do this. it is only a sensation. what is a sensation? concentrate on your breathing; that'll take your mind off it. ah, calm breathing, remain calm, remain calm. i am equanimous in the face of any crossed-legged sensation. how can my legs hurt so much? all i am doing is sitting down. o, this is difficult, this is reeeeeallly testing my mettle now. what is this? a voluntary torture technique? why should i participate in this? i am my own master and i choose a little bit more comfort, please, please, no no, i can do it, yes we can do this, come on come on, hold on dear brother, o meditation shmeditation meditizzle shmizzle! i might as well just admit that meditation is not for me, it is blatantly not my cup of tea. aaaaaoooow, my legs are really protesting, they would really rather not maintain this posture any longer, O Lord, help me in my hour of need, give me strength, poor meditator that i am, in my hour of need!
thirty minutes was the most that i carried on such shinanigans before changing - telling myself flatly that it was necessary - to change posture.
i resolved to speak to the the teacher about this. i told him it was becoming a grueling physical challenge for me; i compared it to my experience of running in a race, where a barrier of pain always presents itself to me. my will would have me running faster and faster but my body protested with pain, and there is always the uncomfortable challenge of finding the balance...
the teacher said that sitting cross-legged was not necessary. if it is too painful then find a position that is more comfortable. the aim is to remain immobile, and to always only observe sensations, always with an equanimous mind.
my thoughts ran, o how my thoughts ran! one thing i learned during the course was how difficult it was for me to control the rambunctious dog that is my mind, who constantly wants to roll around in the terrain of past events, sniffing and reviewing anywhich trivial event lodged in my memory, or else bounding ahead and eagerly panting in expectation of events to come. will i get a visa for pakistan when my indian visa runs out at the end of august? i would love so much to pass through pakistan, so my thoughts ran, and will i ever meet shokouh in iran? and what will it be like to meet her? ah, i would love to learn some more portuguese, spend some time in portugal, maybe brazil. that italian guy frederico talked about a wonderful community in north brazil...
calmness, friend, calmness, i have to remind myself. my mind will be still, my mind will be still....
[stillness of mind for an indeterminate period of time]
places drift into my mind. the feeling of being in a place: that little hut on the north tip of skye, the waves crashing below, the road to ben rinnes: braes of enzie, mulben, maggieknockater, dufftown, the road to ben rinnes in summer, in spring, autumn and winter, luibleathann bothy, then suddenly - a street in seville, a little chuch in a village in the pyrenees, a motorway peage in france, a crowded street in kathmandu, they come thick and fast, and as soon as i am aware of them, i have to reign them in - stillness, stillness (we are not supposed to make any mental verbalisation or visualisation, but i need to repeat this mantra to keep my mind in control) - "still mind" i say to myself as i breathe in, "calm mind" i say as i breathe out, then suddenly it is a scene when i am ten years old, in my parent's sunny garden, seeing how many times i can head a football back and forth between my father, or i am walking along a street in the evening in aberdeen with colin, or i am sitting in aberdeen university computer room at one in the morning, listening to online jazz music while trying to finish a pesky essay, what am i doing? i am cycling, i am running, i am beneath trees, i am at a party in oxford with francis and caitlin, i am meeting up with kevin and ally and finlay and mum and dad at belfast ferry port in the rain, ah my mind will not stay still. i crave mental activity, i crave it. what is wrong with sitting quietly, with a reposed mind for an hour? is it too boring? must i always play, as it were, a video of past memories and future imaginings? oh, it is too boring, i crave sensations, i want to swim in the sea! i want to run along the beach! i want to bake potatoes in the fire, and eat them! ahh, sensazioni, sensazioni! at the very least i want to read some poetry or write some poetry, i want to eat some cheese. aaaah, roasted peanuts. ahhhh sweet sweet honey...
retrospectively, i understood very well the young lad's comment in the bus stand about the human need/ great desire for entertainment.
these words came to me in the meditation hall ('though we weren't supposed to be thinking of anything) and i wrote them down (although we weren't supposed to write anything either):
One day i'll decay.
my bones will decompose.
my blood'll become mud.
my skin will shrivel up.
no more shooing away the flies,
it'll be they who feast on my eyes.
therefore at this moment
i'll be in this moment
i'll cherish your smile
if only for a while
'though our hearts may beat together now
next they'll beat themselves into the ground;
upon their old fibres a layer of moss and
from our dead bodies flowers will blossom.
and these words i wrote when i was in nepal and read over them again yesterday while flicking through my old damp notebook. they seem garbled but possibly sincere. they present a peculiar slant, the thoughts of one moment in time. what they do is deny the fact that we are both soul and body. we can never really escape our nailedness to the material world, however much we want to stretch our arms out to the Infinite
so what does my being filled with love mean to the taxi-driver who wants to supply me with his service?
- it means recognising his buddhahood. his taxy-driving money-making is a tiny superfluous detail in the self-fulfilling majesty of his awakeninghood. He is Present. by recognising this, by being aware that We are Present Together, the Divine intricately unfurling Eternal Reality as perceived by the Beautiful Awkening Soul within is honoured. The Simplicity and Majesty of this One Unique Singular Unforgettable Unputdownable Death-defying Conscious-edifying Moment is honoured and Enshrined in the Ageless Annals of Death-defying Moments.
You and that taxi-driver can be aware of this: the Material Circumstances of Existence are Immaterial. the Deep Throbbing Soul within is all that matters. Suffering is part and parcel of the physical world. Divest thyself of the pettiness of material things.
- whether thou hast a full belly or not
- whether thy leg is half chomped to bits,
Rejoice! or at least be still in the Moment. Perceive the Moment for what it is, for what it has been for what it Always will be. All these physical sensations will pass away. everything will turn to dust and be born again and climb up the golden lattice work of the stupas to stand glistening, grinning, turgid, unperturbed, shoeless, gnarled and knotty-minded in the breathless, knowledgeless wind of incongruous notime.
Be Aware of That!
live to die live to die live to die
birth is thy boisterous right and death is thy bedridden right. go beyond the fickle fluctuations of the earthly tickling clock and embrace the sole spontaneous moment that is neither here nor there; that is everywhere at once, that knows no wright or rong, that cannot be fathomed by any amount of trivial contemplation
not to be tampered with
we are mortal because we are mortal
the incongruity of the eternal frofruity.
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