it is said the tathagata makes use of all things, and to the unenlightened mind, such a one seems to be no different than any other. the more i think on that, and the more i think on the nature of mind, the more profound that seems to me.
it is said that all beings are possessed of buddha-nature. that we are, each and every one of us, struggling, striving, trying to become.
it is said that in every moment, we, the unenlightened, saddled with samsara and self-cherishing, look at the world, at others, at ourselves, and believe we see reality… existence.
i watch the world around me, i watch others, i watch and think of myself. and i think of this and the weight of it is like a band around my heart.
i experience others, they teach me things in every moment. and i wonder of the tathagata and ponder that i have encountered him/her/them/all.
i am no tathagata. this is certain. silly, sad, pitiful, lowly, ignorant stubbing my toes, barking my shins, spinning in circles, and lost beyond all finding. but i think about the nature of the peerless ones and i wonder if, even in all my silly, sad, pitiful, low, ignorance…
but most of all i just think about how much it all hurts. not so much me. you. him. her. them. they. i can’t really think about it too much, or too long, or i just start crying. not very convenient at work. or in the middle of some gathering. heh. silly me.
but i do wonder… is this compassion? is this aching fullness that would splash over and turn to tears, to sweat, to blood, this that would dissolve completely if only it meant such things, such sufferings, could be melted away for all others… compassion?
it is such a heavy thing, how can it be compassion? i struggle with it and sometimes it seems more an arrogance. standing on the sides of a mirror, watching how the reflection changes, looking for any aspect of it that is pointing to ‘myself’… i do not see them, but are they there? would i see them if they were?
sometimes i wonder if this is compassion, this, i give myself. because this hunt for ‘self’ is no tender thing. i find i am sometimes afraid of myself, all this focus and intent on obliterating the things that stand in the way of being beneficial, helpful, loving, caring, compassionate, and kind to others. maybe just ego, struggling in a stranglehold. i really don’t know.
it is an oddness, hunting myself. but strangely, also exhilarating. i wish i could have my lama read this, the things he told me to put here. but maybe he has. part of me needs to see him read it and feel the stick where it is needed. i do not know if i do properly by this, i feel very ignorant most moments. but if there were the stick, i could say i know where i’m missing it. heh. silly me.
for all i sometimes feel a sense of progress, there is so much to remove… how can one hope to do this in a single life? should one have such hope? or simply keep the eye on the ground, on the feet, and rather than look to the horizon, be content to insure one foot follows another?
it is interesting that there is no despair in it anymore. all of this, water over rocks. moving around me, yes, but not moving me… because there is no me. even as i sit here, pecking out words, thinking, thinking, and refusing to think at all.
Rinpoche will be here this Sunday. i feel selfish to want to spend more than fifteen minutes with him. but i could really use some insight, direction, guidance. maybe to ask it is not to ask too much.
it is not hard to be ignorant. heh. i laugh here. once admitted, it is almost a relief. and with as much ignorance as i have, that’s likely a good thing. if it makes sense, i do not want to be wise. i just want to find the way to not impede others. if, in ignorance, i can stumble and stagger without falling into others, without disturbing them, without being the rock on which their stubs toes, that is enough.
maybe someday, to be able to benefit directly. to have knowledge enough to manage skillfully for others.
but that seems a very long way from here. very long indeed.