So says a Zen aphorism.
I had a statue of the Buddha in my den. It was about ten inches tall, hollow, made of some sort of thick plastic. I found it in the great repository of Buddhist culture and art, Target.
A couple of weeks ago, one of the cats knocked the Buddha off on the floor. The impact broke its head off and the pieces have been lying there ever since.
I've been pondering it, as if the cat left me some sort of koan to figure out. I still don't have anything to say about it, except that it happened.
But one thing did occur to me, and of course I may be all wrong about this: almost everything that happens can be taken as some sort of koan.
On an otherwise perfectly clear day, a single small cloud drifts through the sky, temporarily darkening the sun. What is it?
You're in line at 7-Eleven, and the guy ahead of you buys a liter of Mountain Dew and a tin of chewing tobacco, and heads out the door. What is it?
A stray dog wanders up on your porch and sniffs around before moving on. What is it?
Life is inexplicable. Any system that tries to explain it or make sense of it will always be at best imperfect and at worst a total failure.
I've had a lot of strange dreams over the past week. I mean to post the contents, but I usually drift back to sleep and forget them.
This afternoon, I took a nap and had this dream:
A chicken and a duck are walking across a street. A pickup truck appears, bearing down on them. 'Surely he'll slow down or go around them,' I think, but he doesn't. He runs right over them without slowing down, killing them both, and drives on.
Then little chicks and ducklings start to pop out of the dead birds' feathers and run off to the curb. I wonder how long they can survive without their mothers.
Then I woke up.
I've been trying to decide whether to glue the Buddha back together again or keep it just the way it is. What do you think?
I have this sense that it's time for something to happen for me. Some sort of next step. I don't know what it is. I'm sure it will be evident when the time is right.
2 comments:
:::I've been trying to decide whether to glue the Buddha back together again or keep it just the way it is. What do you think?:::
If you go by what the physicists say, matter never really vanishes, it just changes form.
We're clouds of atoms, and when we die, the atoms don't vanish, they just merge with other atoms to form other stuff----dust, goo, calcium, part of the next generation iPod, or whatever.
I vote for arranging the pieces of the broken Buddha on the coffeetable. Rearrange them once in a while. Maybe you can put them in a nice brandy snifter, with some colorful marbles.
A reminder of the transitory nature of things...
Speaking of which, I think I'll go in the kitchen and start the process of converting rum molecules into, uh, pee-pee molecules.
"Next Step". Interesting. I always feel that way; always long for a next step. Believe it or not, sitting at the Red Cup yesterday I think I looked at you and thought the same thing, i.e I thought you might be headed for "the Next Step". With that said, for what it is worth I warn thee: Be careful what you wish for.
Suzanne, if you are reading this I want to buy your pancakes the next time I see you. I ate 3/4 of your cakes yesterday. Thanks.
I am still fascinated by the little guy who sat so contently at the table yesterday for almost 2 hours with his headphones on reading his book. Do you have any comments on this? I can hear them off the blog if you want sometime.
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