Sorrow

Here is a response to a comment left on (was that) todays posting by a chap facing the sudden death of his father. Because the subject of grieving comes up a lot I thought I’d answer part of the comment in a posting.

One thing that has particularly troubled me is my lack of grief and it is interesting to read your comment about shock taking its time to work through.

I know it might seem odd however death, even a sudden death, may not be followed by grief. After both my mother and my father died I was surprised I was not finding myself ‘falling apart’. I took council in a senior monk and was told not to expect to grieve and not to be concerned if I didn’t. In addition a friend mentioned that perhaps I’d dealt with that which tied us together and I could simply accept the death and moving on. This lack of grief seemed a bit surreal at the time I must say. So perhaps the answer is to take life as it comes at you. What else is there to do?

Later, while resolving the family home and its contents, I did have loud howling sessions but gradually those spontaneous outbreaks became less. Then perhaps three years after my father died I noticed that the colours in nature where markedly brighter, and illuminated some how. I understood then that my senses had been dampened down somewhat, not depression exactly but close probably.

The compassion scriptures would be the Litany of the Great Compassionate one and the Scripture of Avalokiteshwara Bodhisattva. The words for both scriptures can be found on the Shasta Abbey web site.

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An Answer

The following is an extract from a note I sent to a chap in answer to his comment/questions following the sudden death of his father.

Dear Friend,

The very best thing you can do to help your father now is to simply sit when you have the time, and to do your best to keep a bright and positive mind throughout your day. He will be in your heart and since ultimately there is no separation or dividing up of existence, your hearts are identical. If the relationship with him has been troublesome this doesn’t matter, let what ever is there be there without judgements.

You are right, we do not have a specific practice around death, or more correctly meditations focusing on the impermanence of the body. That all is fairly much covered in just sitting.

In terms of your own acceptance of his sudden death you will have to realize that there is a level of shock which will take time to work it’s way through.

As for what you can do at home now. You can put his photograph on your altar and perhaps put some kind of non perishable food/drink which he would have liked there too. You can recite one of the compassion scriptures daily and offer the merit of the recitation for his benefit.

The advice above is fairly standard however it does assume an understanding of the practice of meditation and the Buddhist Precepts.

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Drawing Pictures in the Clouds

The monastery is markedly still, yet filled with guests. They are here for a week of intensive practice with much formal meditation. The day itself has felt still, with just a hint of autumn in the air. Already?

By the entrance to the main building I paused to view the bright yellow upturned faces of Nasturtiums amidst the lush green foliage. That would make a great photograph, I was told. But I’ve been busy with other things.

Reflecting on the day, a good practice for anybody who points themselves towards a religious practice, of any faith tradition. I am glad to remember the flowers and while out on a lunch time walk, the wild gooseberry bush beside the road. I’ve been munching on the fruit from that bush for upwards of fifteen years, on and off. What a gift, and so sweet too.

Yes, it is good to take the time to reflect on the day. It helps one to arrive at a more rounded picture. Reflection too helps to soften that which could remain hard. There was the frustrating problem of not being able to get a printer working and the anxiety producing project of investigating my visa application for the US. How easy it is to join up the points in a day and draw a picture which sends one to bed heavy of heart. It’s not necessary.

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Happy Birthday Buddha

My father would have been 87 today. Looking around my room I don’t see anything of his to remind me of him. But I do remember… There was my dad’a old belt and his knitted wool hat, which he wore on the back of his head on cold days. I always thought he could have done better, but he loved that hat and kept it to the last. There was his walking stick, probably cut from a hedge. It was rather a twiggy looking affair. It had a bright orange spent rifle cartridge rammed on the bottom to stop the stick from wearing down. Maybe there was some binder twine, picked up from a field, wrapped around the stick to strengthen it. He was a man in the country where function came first.

I’ve disposed of the old belt and hat, and the wool demob coat that followed us unrelentingly from one house to the next. I think he wrapped his saws in it. The stick? That now supports a tree by a lake in Cornwall, planted in his memory.

In Buddhism there are said to be three objects of reverence of a Buddha; the physical remains such as the ashes after cremation, a tooth or lock of hair, objects appertaining to personal use, such as tools, clothing etc. and lastly objects of reverence reminiscent of the Buddha. This last object has no physical basis it is simply what we remember, what we remember gladly. And I have a lot of those for my dad, my Buddha.

Many thanks to Christine whose comment left after the posting A Beacon of Hope inspired me to write this today. I’m sorry I missed your contribution and didn’t respond at the time.

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Gardens are like Friends and Family

Gardens, like friends, are rewarding when they bloom and grow. Frustrating when things don’t go according to plan. Disappointing when after hours and hours of back breaking work results in one small step made. Perhaps one stone removed in a path to make it flat. Is it all worth the effort?

What else is there to compare? Some days are better than others, some years are better than others! Often conditions for growth or resolution are not optimal and still the need is there to DO something, none the less.

AND there are the small simple things that go unnoticed, too often. Not good or bad, not right or wrong, or beauty set against ugliness. Not any of that kind of thing.

Within all of this is a belief that things must/should/aught be a certain way. They don’t.

Talking of gardens and gardening, a reader sent me a link to this garden near Lancaster, looks like it’s worth a visit. Maybe worth a visit with a friend, or family member? Or just go alone for a change.

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Practice Within The Order of Buddhist Contemplatives