Ahhhh, thank you. If that is the case, I am stiil sitting on the ground in the cockpit staring at the altimeter with…disenchantment?
Sometimes, when I am here in my Sangha with the combined wisdom available, I feel as if I am wandering blindly down a dark passageway without direction and I stumble into a brightly lit room full of monks.
So as I understand Buddhism, an individual is born into material existence with a passion to live. And by maturing spiritually must learn, then acknowledge that it is this very passion to live which causes suffering, and that Buddha described a path to the cessation of suffering. Yet, the act of craving , whether it is chocolate cake…or enlightenment, is to continue one’s suffering.
I have COPD, asthma, and breathing is often difficult for me. During those moments when breathing is the only thing that matters, I try to imagine how it is possible to be dispassionate about this process of respiration so inherent in the joy of living. For the simple act of having restricted oxygen changes the way I feel about living.
I have memorized a story, which may be apocryphal:
A wandering nun, perhaps named Rosie, heard that there was a wise monk meditating in a cave-of course!-at the top of a mountain who could perhaps whisper the secret to enlightenment.
So Rosie the Nun after many days of arduous climbing reached the monk at the top of the mountain.
“Oh dear monk, Rosie asked breathlessly, I have come to learn the secret to enlightenment. Won’t you please share it with me?”
After a certain time in deliberation, the wise old monk said,
" Sure, follow me!" And the monk began the long slow descent down the mountain. Somewhat perplexed, yet still passionate about finding enlightenment, Rosie followed.
After a long trip to the bottom this unusual couple found themselves thirsty at the edge of a lovely spring. The monk said, “Please…you first”.
So Rosie bent down to sip some cool clear water, and as she did so the monk put his hand on the the back of her head and shoved it into the water. After an interminable minute of thrashing about in fear of her life, the monk released her head and she came up for air.
More than a tad miffed, not to mention angered by the monk’s actions, Rosie blurted out “What the heck, you…darn monk. I came to you for the key to enlightenment, and you try to drown me? What is…how is that enlightenment?”
The old monk smiled and said " When you were under water and thrashing about, what was the one thing you wanted more than anything in the world?"
“Why…to breathe of course!” said Rosie.
“Ah”, the monk smiled. “You have found the key.”
My gratitude is is profound. I stand on the shoulders of giants. W/Metta
