Archive for February 2007
I woke up this morning and wished my wife a happy Valentine’s day. Rolled over, put my feet on the floor and decided to have a good day. (I do that every day, decide to have a good day. Sometimes it even works too.) Before I stood up off the bed I looked to my bedside table and noticed my small golden Buddha statue.
He is seated on a lotus blossom, in Lotus position with his eyes closed in meditation. Serene. Mindful. Enlightened.
Suddenly I thought about St. Valentine’s day in a new frame of mind. I wondered about the day and what it stands for to Americans. I think most Americans feel that this day is all about buying a gift for their loved one. Some chocolate, a dozen red roses, maybe a diamond for her hand or to wear around her neck.
Would the Buddha have taught me to be above that? To rise out of the mindless need and simple showiness of the day. Would he have asked me to instead find a real way to show real compassion. (Yes I know I said ‘real’ twice. Got your attention huh?)
But what if getting the roses and chocolate is what my Beloved really needed for that day? What would I do if she really needed that to feel loved? I mean I know that would mean she is really shallow, but just what if you know?
So getting her the roses, the candy and a diamond would be showing her compassion? I don’t want her to feel mistreated. That won’t help anything at all. Would not help our relationship, her mental state, her heart.
So maybe the Buddha would want me to by some roses? Now I am confused.
Nope. I think I should just be a good husband. Do more than my share of the household duties. Take more upon myself and give her a rest she deserves. Take the kids off of her lap for a night and let her do something she enjoys.
But how can I maintain a stance that encourages a certain disconnection from worldly greed while still living in the world? It doesn’t seem possible to on the one hand practice the emptiness that the Diamond Sutra teaches while still going to work and raising my family.
Maybe that is the diamond that I should give to my wife? Perhaps I can find a way to give her the teachings of the Diamond Sutra? True, she would not be the most accepting of this teaching… but in time, who knows?
Any way, happy Saint Valentine’s Day.
I followed the path along the twisting way. Grasses and moss grew up between the loose pebbles on the path, people do not use this path anymore and slowly nature was recapturing lost ground. I was looking for the gardener, the caretaker of the garden. I could hear him whistling in the garden, but the lush foliage made it impossible to see him.
This small garden stood alone in the midst of the city but I could not see or hear the city’s sights and sounds now that I was in the garden. Colors filled my vision; reds, purples, yellows and greens. Lilies blew gently on the breeze. Daffodils swayed and rose bushes seemed to shimmer in the sunlight.
Again I heard the gardener whistling as he walked along the path. I could hear his feet on the path sometimes, the pebbles below him scratching against other pebbles.
Almost suddenly I smelled the sweet perfume of the flowers. It was not so sweet as to assault me, but rather the smell was soft and almost tasted sweet on my mouth. Like I could taste the nectar from each flower. I noticed the flowers one by one now, most of them I could not name, only knowing how I felt looking at them; and it felt good.
I turned another corner on the path, passing under the branches of an elm and then I saw the gardener. He was on his knees tending to some small red and yellow flowers with his bare hands.
I stood there a moment, not knowing what to do now that I had found him. The sun was warm on my face and I could hear the birds in the trees, the sound of the fountain in the pond; I didn’t want to ruin this moment.
And then he turned around to face me.
He was me. My face, my body, even my clothes; me. I started to ask him how, but my voice would not come. My mouth opened and I just looked at him again. He smiled and motioned for me to sit down on the bench beside me.
“Before you ask your questions, really look at me, see me.” he said in my voice.
So I did. I relaxed and looked again, this time I was seeing, not just looking.
He was me, that much was true, but he was me as I wanted to be. His eyes were soft and did not conceal malice or loathing. His voice seemed pure to me, there was no conceit there, no rush to judge. His forehead was mine too, but it was lacking the furrow that I had after a lifetime of frowning.
“Are you God?” I asked in my voice too.
“You think I’m God huh? You think I created all of this?” He looked around the center of the garden.
I started to look around again too, looking back to the garden and to the flowers, to the bushes and trees. The pond rippled from the splashing fountain, sunlight becoming golden jewels on the waves.
I understood.
“It isn’t you. It’s the garden, the garden created this place and you tend it,” I said still looking at the pond.
“But, am I you? Are you me? What am I missing?” I asked looking into his eyes finally.
“Is there a difference? Where do you end and I begin? Where does the garden leave off and you start?”
I sat there on the bench beside him, looking at the garden, hearing and seeing.