Post by zendancer on Feb 9, 2010 0:28:03 GMT -5
Alpha: You're not alone in that regard. The plastic bag scene in American Beauty as well as the last scene in the same movie did me in. Major to minor chord changes in music that strikes me as existential will also do it. Thinking back over the people I've known, each one unique and perfectly so, appearing in emptiness for only a few fleeting moments in time before being swallowed up in the infinite again. A clump of small flowers growing out of a tiny cleft in a giant rock formation unnoticed by almost everyone. The list of triggering factors is growing longer every year.
I carried a red backpack for more than twenty years through canyons and mountains and rhododendron thickets. In the process it became worn out, shredded, and as beat up as the one who was carrying it. It finally grew too decrepit and broken down to go another step. I switched to a new bright yellow pack, but when I had to leave the old pack behind for the first time, it was like saying goodbye to a dear friend. It had worked so hard, had served me so well, and had been with me through so much that I apologized to it for weeks afterwards and begged it to forgive me. (for those who don't understand, I was begging me to forgive me)
When D.T. Suzuki was a young man, he trained for two or three years in a Zen monastery in Japan. He later came to the USA and wrote numerous books. After twenty years or so he returned to Japan and visited his old monastery filled with so many memories. As he walked through the grounds, the huge temple bell quite unexpectedly rang out. Upon hearing the sound he fell to the ground sobbing uncontrollably. This is real emptiness. It is what Zen calls "the pathos of life." Who we are is infinite, but we manifest..... just......like.......this. It is sometimes unimaginably poignant. That is what Ramana's seven years in silent samadhi evokes.
I carried a red backpack for more than twenty years through canyons and mountains and rhododendron thickets. In the process it became worn out, shredded, and as beat up as the one who was carrying it. It finally grew too decrepit and broken down to go another step. I switched to a new bright yellow pack, but when I had to leave the old pack behind for the first time, it was like saying goodbye to a dear friend. It had worked so hard, had served me so well, and had been with me through so much that I apologized to it for weeks afterwards and begged it to forgive me. (for those who don't understand, I was begging me to forgive me)
When D.T. Suzuki was a young man, he trained for two or three years in a Zen monastery in Japan. He later came to the USA and wrote numerous books. After twenty years or so he returned to Japan and visited his old monastery filled with so many memories. As he walked through the grounds, the huge temple bell quite unexpectedly rang out. Upon hearing the sound he fell to the ground sobbing uncontrollably. This is real emptiness. It is what Zen calls "the pathos of life." Who we are is infinite, but we manifest..... just......like.......this. It is sometimes unimaginably poignant. That is what Ramana's seven years in silent samadhi evokes.
