Unconditional Love

In memory of Iris
In memory of Iris

Remarkable happenings happen when a person is close to death. Not able to see or hear a woman hears and speaks – to her daughter. Then passes on. Amazing. Remarkable the bond between parent and off spring. Remarkable too is the impact of the offering of prayers and spiritual merit. A young man close to death miraculously back to life against all medical odds. Then to make his offering of healing to others, live for a short while. And then die. Over the years very many such events, differing details, come to my ears. Fill my heart.

To all who grieve. For those who continue to grieve. (There’s no time limit.) For those who offer their lives wholeheartedly for the benefit of others while at deaths door (My Luminous Friend). Reflecting now it is clear the distinction between oneself and other selves fades in the face of unconditional love.

There are no limits.

What Books show us

Books let us into
their souls and
lay open to us
the secrets
of our own.
William Hazlitt

At throssel arranging a well overdue climb of Great Gable in the Lake District later in the month. Ah to have a walking companion to walk beside. Walking is easier when not alone. So like life itself – given our ‘souls’ are not alone.

Time Not Passing

Limestone Pavement
Limestone Pavement

The unknown, the Unknowing. Falling. Falling over. Hurt. Old body, seen life. Falling. Falling over. Hurting. Much water passing, many clouds wafting.

Through a keyhole. Surgery. Saintly surgeon. The unknown, the Unknowing. Then. A Mallard Duck. Motionless in a glass cage. Stuffed? Later gone. Up through the top of the cage. Gone. Just like that.

Wonders never cease. Do they? Slip a card into a slot, a slit. Later. Cash! (Sorry, no receipt.) Yes, plastic bag please. Crossing the road. Not getting run over. Coins. Money. Purchase. Food cooked and eaten.

Been around and about. Now back.

When people you know and love are on the brink, in danger of passing away. At least the possibility. Simple things come into sharp focus. Crazy things like the trapped duck in the middle of a hospital. Leave a lasting impression. Just everyday living, just for a short while, is deeper than you’d ever think.

How does it go? There is an ‘unknowing’, that goes on for ever and ever. And is even now.

Where is the Joy?

At Throssel last Sunday for the day, Buddha Day, celebrating the birth and enlightenment of the historic Buddha. The Enlightened One.

The main altar was sparkling, the flower bower over the baby Buddha, inspired. One after the other in procession during the celebration ceremony we ‘bathed’ the Buddha. We ladled pure water over the golden statue, and walked on.

Many times over the years I have participated in this ceremony. This year was different for me. ‘Where is the joy’? I asked myself casually. In the singing? The abundance of flowers or people or children? Being with the monastic community?

Where is the joy?
Who knows?
Who asks?

Listen to Rev. Master Daishin’s Dharma Talk, The Illusion of “Me” given after the ceremony.

Not Bothered

Lambs. Not bothered!
Lambs. Not bothered!

This year they seemed to come in a rash.  All over the fields, a rash of lambs. Could that be the collective term for lambs? Probably not. And because of the multitude I’ve taken less notice of them. Become less engaged with the wonder of them; their springing and prancing, their rough and tumble playing together. Bringers of life to the former sodden fields of December and January (February and March too to be honest.)! Love ’em but try to catch a picture of lambs in repose and as you can see they got up sharpish and walked away. Not bothered. Have a photo taken? Not bothered.

Which brings me to thinking, at what point does something, some event, some kind of multitudinous abundance bring us to being not bothered, to being numbed. When, what ever it is, becomes unimportant to us due to it having become a ‘rash’. Food for thought.

For all those hungry people in the world who are surrounded by food.