Thursday, April 9, 2009


yesterday we had a visitor, a wandering monk who drop in every once in a while. I was told that he's a good one and a strong meditator, too.
But i spend the whole day alone, writing, reading, sewing, sweeping, and meditating.
I watched the puppies for a while, haven't seen them for 3 days and they changed a lot and look almost like dogs now. Danger!!!
One opend the eyes for the first time while i was present and cried by facing the world, but then fell asleep again. Another started to creep and tried to get up on all four but stumbled and fell over all the time. Pure suffering, but they seem to enjoy it.

Lumpoh comes everyday to see them and today i showed him the one which can open the eyes. He was pleased. Then i showed him another one and he started, with the exploring joy and naivety of a child to try to open the eys of this one with both thumbs. “Nooo!” I said, “it can't”. “Oh”, said he and tried the other eye instead. “NO! Don't, it can't open the eyes”, said i and gave him a clap on his fingers.

I should not dare that with any other monk ...

to what you wrote on facebook: crying over a dead puppy. Yes, it's sad, that such a young being dies after only suffering and not being able to help. Compassion is a wonderful properity! May many people be able to develop compassion. And it's good, indeed, to observe the crying, the tears falling.
Let's have a closer look on the feeling of sadness that makes the tears fall. Why are we sad when someone dies? It's because we don't want it, right? We should say “disliking, disliking” until it goes away.
if it does not go away, let's dig deeper: why do we not want it? Because we cling on to life, ours and that of others beings we feel sympathy for. We should say “clinging, clinging” until it goes away.
If it doesn't - let's dig even deeper: why do we cling on to life? 1. because we think it's fun and that we enjoy it. But if we watch ourselves and others, we can see that it's more suffering than anything else. But still ... 2. we cling on to life because we fear death. We remember that it will happen to ourselves, that we have no remedy to escape. We cannot control it and can't make it as we want it, when we want it. We do not know what happens while and after dying. No control, No control! DISLIKING.
I don't think we cry for the dead, actually. i rather think we cry out of fear, anger, because we miss someone, something and it is not what we want.
So we can summarize: Ego runs amok because it is confronted with the three characteristics, suffering, impermanence and the uncontrolability of what we think is a self. Which is suffering and makes us cry.
Like children that fear the dark cellar ... when we turn light on, we can see it clearly as just what it is.


Susanne said...

We always cry for ourselves and our lost (of someone beloved, of something we don't want to miss ...) It is pure ego covered with love or longing. But even if we know that it is very difficult not to cling, not to dislike ...

I think you know "Memento" by Mascha Kaleko:

Vor meinem eignen Tod ist mir nicht bang,
Nur vor dem Tode derer, die mir nah sind.
Wie soll ich leben, wenn sie nicht mehr da sind?

Allein im Nebel tast ich todentlang
Und laß mich willig in das Dunkel treiben.
Das Gehen schmerzt nicht halb so wie das Bleiben.

Der weiß es wohl, dem gleiches widerfuhr;
- Und die es trugen, mögen mir vergeben.
Bedenkt: den eignen Tod, den stirbt man nur,
Doch mit dem Tod der andern muß man leben.

Can't translate that ;-)

phalanyani said...

Mascha Kaleko, ich erinnere mich dunkel. Frueher habe ich das genau so empfunden, wie sie schreibt, das veraendert sich aber. Mal sehen, obs das nicht in englischer version irgendowo gibt ...

Susanne said...

Ja,es verändert sich. Ich weiß, dass dieses Gedicht mich immer zum Weinen gebracht hat, aber jetzt trifft es mich nicht mehr. (Womit ich nicht sagen will, dass ich mich leicht damit abfinden werde, wenn meine Liebsten ihren Körper verlassen. So weit bin ich noch nicht, fürchte ich. Das hier ist ganz sicher nicht meine letzte Runde durchs Leben ...)