They're Out There!
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I talk more than I should, especially on paper, and I engage in a lot of useless discursive thinking. I try not to, but I lack the insight and recognition that would purify these habits and so it becomes a matter of discipline for me - something I am not very good at. Sometimes I am struck by something very beautiful, very magical, very special and a bunch of gibberish comes pouring out, like a carbonated beverage that's had one too many shakes. I received a special picture today and this is one of those times.
I am a samsaric being: bewildered, distracted, uncomprehending, living in the past, living in the future, dissatisfied, full of lust, easily angered, undisciplined and so laden with negative karma that I can't even drive to the store without plastering hundreds of beings on the front of my car or find something to wear that hasn't resulted in the death of thousands of beings in its production. Things pop up in my mind, unbeckoned, and immediately take over. Other thoughts seem like wonderful ideas or discoveries only to fade into unremarkable nonsense hours later. I no sooner commit to something than I am immediately attracted by some inconsistent alternative.
And yet, in my life, I have met enlightened beings. There really isn't language adequate to describe how incredibly fortunate and unlikely this is or how astounded I am to find that I am so certain. I mean, I can't even decide for sure what I ought to do from minute to minute and yet, amidst all this, arises the absolute certainty that I have not just encountered, but sat across from, made eye contact with, laughed with, and talked to enlightened beings.
It is unexplainable and incomprehensible to me. I have looked and looked for my error and to see where I have become carried away or how I have managed to contrive a fantasy about these "people" I have met. Because I am suspicious I have turned my conviction every way but loose. Nevertheless, I find that I cannot escape it.
I don't know how to respond. I am left in awe and feeling completely incapable of anything the encounter should call for. I feel awkward and embarrassed and worry that I have been completely overtaken by arrogance because it doesn't seem that I should be able to recognize how they are. I don't even know how I know.
The more I look at these beings, the more pure they appear. I can find no stains and I actually begin to see that their every activity, every movement, every word, every thought is for others. At first they can even seem like ordinary people, and they will say that they are. But there is something about looking in their eyes, the sound of their voice and the space around them. Something palpable and undeniable, even to me in the midst of all my craziness and nonsense. The more I watch and examine, the stronger it gets. Somehow they effortlessly and passively reach through all the garbage and static and obscuration and pluck some resonant chord in my chest. There is a molten, golden butter-like orb in my heart center that throbs in response to them and then begins to radiate and diffuse through the rest of my being practically standing my hair on end.
I know I am not special and so others must also be experiencing this or some variation of it. I don't have the wisdom to know if I should be talking about it and I wish I knew better how to account for it, how to describe and share it and how to adequately express my gratitude. If I am truly mistaken, then at least this is the most sublime delusion one could ever imagine.
I talk more than I should, especially on paper, and I engage in a lot of useless discursive thinking. I try not to, but I lack the insight and recognition that would purify these habits and so it becomes a matter of discipline for me - something I am not very good at. Sometimes I am struck by something very beautiful, very magical, very special and a bunch of gibberish comes pouring out, like a carbonated beverage that's had one too many shakes. I received a special picture today and this is one of those times.
I am a samsaric being: bewildered, distracted, uncomprehending, living in the past, living in the future, dissatisfied, full of lust, easily angered, undisciplined and so laden with negative karma that I can't even drive to the store without plastering hundreds of beings on the front of my car or find something to wear that hasn't resulted in the death of thousands of beings in its production. Things pop up in my mind, unbeckoned, and immediately take over. Other thoughts seem like wonderful ideas or discoveries only to fade into unremarkable nonsense hours later. I no sooner commit to something than I am immediately attracted by some inconsistent alternative.
And yet, in my life, I have met enlightened beings. There really isn't language adequate to describe how incredibly fortunate and unlikely this is or how astounded I am to find that I am so certain. I mean, I can't even decide for sure what I ought to do from minute to minute and yet, amidst all this, arises the absolute certainty that I have not just encountered, but sat across from, made eye contact with, laughed with, and talked to enlightened beings.
It is unexplainable and incomprehensible to me. I have looked and looked for my error and to see where I have become carried away or how I have managed to contrive a fantasy about these "people" I have met. Because I am suspicious I have turned my conviction every way but loose. Nevertheless, I find that I cannot escape it.
I don't know how to respond. I am left in awe and feeling completely incapable of anything the encounter should call for. I feel awkward and embarrassed and worry that I have been completely overtaken by arrogance because it doesn't seem that I should be able to recognize how they are. I don't even know how I know.
The more I look at these beings, the more pure they appear. I can find no stains and I actually begin to see that their every activity, every movement, every word, every thought is for others. At first they can even seem like ordinary people, and they will say that they are. But there is something about looking in their eyes, the sound of their voice and the space around them. Something palpable and undeniable, even to me in the midst of all my craziness and nonsense. The more I watch and examine, the stronger it gets. Somehow they effortlessly and passively reach through all the garbage and static and obscuration and pluck some resonant chord in my chest. There is a molten, golden butter-like orb in my heart center that throbs in response to them and then begins to radiate and diffuse through the rest of my being practically standing my hair on end.
I know I am not special and so others must also be experiencing this or some variation of it. I don't have the wisdom to know if I should be talking about it and I wish I knew better how to account for it, how to describe and share it and how to adequately express my gratitude. If I am truly mistaken, then at least this is the most sublime delusion one could ever imagine.
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