When will I reach Enlightenment ?

Long ago a student worked diligently every hour of everyday to practice the teachings of his guru. The student was very sincere and would strictly observe the precepts of being a disciple. He would wake up every day at 3 to begin his prayers. At 6 he would clean and cook and by 9 be immersed in prayers once again. It was a total commitment, long and difficult. One day, he approached the guru and asked,"Dear Guru, I work very hard everyday, so I want to know when I will reach the goal of all goals, enlightenment?"

And the Guru replied:

when, oh when they all have asked
is it now or will it be then ?

when scattered memories of a belt ricocheting off of you at 5 and the pain so great that you could not even cry , not remembering why your father loved you in such a way. "was this the way all fathers loved their sons," you often wonder...

when at times the thoughts of the burning house is all the memory you have of your mother
as the scent of charred wood rises through your nostrils is all that you remember. "was this the way all mothers showed they cared?," you would ask....

when you saw your wife at a distance behind covered bushes in the heated embrace of another man not knowing when his body ended and hers began... "was this the woman I sought all my life..", you thought..

when one day your thoughts leads you back to your father and the memory of the brown leather belt soon fades as the scent of charred wood turns into lavender that your mother would rub upon you as a child and the utter pain of your broken heart is exceeded only by the compassion you feel for all those around you....

when you don't have obsession
when you lose all doubt
when fear disappears
when you break society's rules
when you disappoint the expectations others have placed upon you
when you can open you heart to all those you have trespassed against you

what more to enlightenment is there ?

Old age, sickness and death

2,500 years ago, as the story goes, Siddhartha first stepped outside of his fathers palace. At first, young Siddartha was struck by the sight of an old man, a sick man and one whose body was being cremated after death. This was the first of many realities, a wake up call, of how his now youthful strong body will not forever last. It revealed to him the nature of impermanence.

We needn't go far for our own 'wake up call'. We don't have to search hard to find ourselves face to face with the impermanence of this life. It is there in every hospital and nursing home.....

the my first impression will always that smell, of something not so new that long ago was. fluids spat out by a body no longer needing it. figures around me hunched in wheel chairs, tables and walkers. no longer standing straight, after years of the bodies' accumulated struggle against the forces of stress, hard labor, broken bones, and for some....... broken dreams. once able doers of the world who ran the factories of Detroit, run up the hills of Iwo Jima, scaled the cliffs of Normandy .....now must have others do the doing for them. lifting cups knocked down, moving chairs, changing socks...

some staring out into space, oblivious to time, the day or season. a few can still focus, while others have lost any idea of what they are doing or who that woman is in front of them after 52 years of marriage........

A great king in India long ago summoned the wisest of gurus to his ornate palace. The king said, " Look holy one, how vast my kingdom is, how beautiful my wives are, how strong my body to conquer all these lands...." And to this the guru replied,

" And this too shall pass..."

Apart

We are none of us apart

Even as we exhale, it is inhaled by others

The sun that shines upon me shines upon my neighbor as well

The moon that dominates my night sky is the same moon even those who are far away see

As my own ship is raised by the tides, so too are the vessels of those around me...

Even the carbon released by burning coal in West Virginia heats up the air for those in Australia

In this way, one is connected to all

In this way, I am connected to my friend even as I am connected to my enemy

In this way, there is no difference between me and my friend

In this way, there is no difference between me and my enemy

We are none of us apart

Dead Certain

Even as we sit on our chairs, it is not a chair that we sit upon....

The atoms of the chair are not solid

The space between each atom, not filled

So what do we sit upon ?


The image from my TV is so real

I reach out to touch that image

Yet, it is not there

So what did I see ?


You feel the pain of the needle as it pierces your skin one day

The next day, the same pain is felt, as another whose skin is so pierced you witness

Is this the same pain ?


In such ways, how REAL are what we touch and feel ?

In such ways, how certain are we each time ?

Attachment

"Attachment is the root of suffering," said one man long ago

And that we are not so immune....

The baby cries as her rattle is taken away
So too a grown man as his house quickly burns to the ground

A boy searches frantically for a favorite old shoe
While nearby, a little girl longs for her missing doll

The veiled woman screams as her house explodes in the desert
Five thousand miles away, a mother falls to the ground as she accepts the folded flag

Whether great or small
Whether tragedy felt at home or over there

We are not so immune