muck

if here or there; if somewhere…

 

what landed upon me solidly this morning is the thought, this is not what I want.

what does one do with that?

we’re advised to flow, to embrace radical acceptance of what is, to be grateful for what we have, to not push, to not allow our energy to overwhelm that of others or of the universe.

we’re also told to keep moving, to take right action, to take steps every day toward what it is we do want. to not hold back or stop that natural flow of energy.

how do we balance this? especially when we’re sitting in a situation ~ usually of our own making ~ that does not fulfill us, that isn’t, truly, what we want?

I sometimes feel as though I am walking through muck, my shoes sticking, every lift of foot demanding tremendous effort…the forward progress almost nonexistent.

my soul cries out for something different, perhaps just new experience. perhaps I can assuage it without major upheaval. yet how do I do this when my feet are stuck in a seemingly neverending field of muck?

left, right, left, right.

buddhists chant om mani padme hum, and tell us the meaning of this mantra is nearly impossible to express in mere words, but that it has much to do with compassion and loving kindness, which are more easily understood when we release our fixation on our personal self. aha.

this, apparently, is what I must do, for most obviously, this is my struggle. the simple answer: to release my fixation on my personal self.

 

if here or there; if somewhere…

 

om mani padme hum.

left, right.

left, right.

The True Sound of Truth

(from dharma-haven.org)A devoted meditator, after years concentrating on a particular mantra, had attained enough insight to begin teaching. The student’s humility was far from perfect, but the teachers at the monastery were not worried.

A few years of successful teaching left the meditator with no thoughts about learning from anyone; but upon hearing about a famous hermit living nearby, the opportunity was too exciting to be passed up.

The hermit lived alone on an island at the middle of a lake, so the meditator hired a man with a boat to row across to the island. The meditator was very respectful of the old hermit. As they shared some tea made with herbs the meditator asked him about his spiritual practice. The old man said he had no spiritual practice, except for a mantra which he repeated all the time to himself. The meditator was pleased: the hermit was using the same mantra he used himself — but when the hermit spoke the mantra aloud, the meditator was horrified!

“What’s wrong?” asked the hermit.

“I don’t know what to say. I’m afraid you’ve wasted your whole life! You are pronouncing the mantra incorrectly!”

“Oh, Dear! That is terrible. How should I say it?”

The meditator gave the correct pronunciation, and the old hermit was very grateful, asking to be left alone so he could get started right away. On the way back across the lake the meditator, now confirmed as an accomplished teacher, was pondering the sad fate of the hermit.

“It’s so fortunate that I came along. At least he will have a little time to practice correctly before he dies.” Just then, the meditator noticed that the boatman was looking quite shocked, and turned to see the hermit standing respectfully on the water, next to the boat.

“Excuse me, please. I hate to bother you, but I’ve forgotten the correct pronunciation again. Would you please repeat it for me?”

“You obviously don’t need it,” stammered the meditator; but the old man persisted in his polite request until the meditator relented and told him again the way he thought the mantra should be pronounced.

The old hermit was saying the mantra very carefully, slowly, over and over, as he walked across the surface of the water back to the island.