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Post by yawares » Tue Aug 14, 2012 2:23 pm

Dear Members,

:heart: Kamanita And Vasitthi :heart:

Then the Blessèd One spoke of the suffering which
everywhere and always follows life like its shadow. And I
felt as though someone with a gentle hand had lifted the
load of pain my love had brought me, bore it away and
had cast it into the great maelstrom of universal suffering,
where, in the general whirl of the rising and passing of all
things, it disappeared completely from view.
Deeply in my innermost heart I felt — "What right do
I have to expect enduring happiness when it is so normal for
beings to experience suffering?"
I had enjoyed my happiness: it had been born, it
had unfolded itself and it had passed — just as the Buddha
taught that everything in this world comes from some
source and, after its time is fulfilled, must sooner or later
pass away.
This very transitory appearance, in which the unreality of
every individual thing veiled itself, was, he told us, the final
unavoidable source of suffering — unavoidable so long as
the desire for existence was not uprooted, so long as it
continued to flourish luxuriantly and forever gave rise to
something new. And as each individual is a part of the
suffering of the world, from the very fact of their existence,
I should now feel obliged — or so it seemed to me
— if I had been spared some pain, to feel myself doubly
blessèd and to be filled with a readiness to bear my part

I was no longer able to bewail my own lot; on the
contrary, as I listened to the Master's words the thought
awoke in me — "If only all living beings were no longer
obliged to suffer! If only this holy man might succeed in
his work of teaching, and that all living beings — all —
purified from delusion and enlightened, might reach the
utter end of suffering."
And the Master spoke also of this end of suffering
and of the world, of the overcoming of every form of
existence, of liberation into a serene state of being, void of
all craving, of the dispelling of all delusion, and of Nirvāna
— strange, wonderful words telling of this only Island in
all the troubled sea of birth, on whose rocky shores the
breakers of death dashed in impotent foam, and over to
which the teaching of the Blessèd One sailed like a trusty
ship. And he spoke of that blessèd place of peace not as
one speaks who relates to us what he has heard from
others — from priests and Brahmins — and also not as a
song‐maker who lets his fancy roam, but like one who
communicates what he has himself experienced and seen.
It is true that there was much he said which I, an
untaught woman, did not understand, but which also — I
would venture — would not have easily been understood
by even the most learned of men.
Many things I was not able to reconcile: for,
although the Master said that neither 'existence' nor 'non‐
existence' could be said to describe the reality of Life,
'lifelessness' was not the answer either — in fact it was
even further from the Truth But I felt in heart like one
who hears a new song utterly unlike any other she has
ever heard, a song of which she is able to catch no more
than a few words, yet the music of which penetrates to her
heart, telling her everything. And what music! Notes of
such crystal purity that all other sounds when compared
with it must seem to the listener like empty noise —
strains which brought greetings from so far away, from so
far above the spheres, that a new and undreamt‐of longing
was awakened, of which I felt that it could never be stilled
by anything worldly or world‐like, and which, if unsatis‐
fied, would never pass away.

Meanwhile night had come down. The pale light of
the moon, as it rose behind the temple, threw shadows
from its outlines right across the whole width of the forest
glade. The form of the speaker was all but indistinguish‐
able. These more‐than‐human words appeared to come
forth from the sanctuary itself, which had swallowed again
into its mass of shadows all the thousand wild and
tangled, life‐simulating forms, and now towered upward
in simple but imposing lines, a monument of all terrestrial
and celestial life.
My hands held palm to palm at my heart, I sat there
listening and looking up to the heavens, where great stars
glittered over the dark tree‐tops and the Heavenly Gangā
lay extended like a river of light. Then I remembered the
hour when we both, at that same spot, solemnly raised our
hands to it and mutually swore by its silver floods which
feed these lotus lakes, that we would meet here again in
the Paradise of the West in a heaven of pleasure like that
of Krishna, of which the Master had just spoken as the
place which the faithful devotees of the Dreaming God
strove to reach.
And as I thought of it, my heart grew sad; for I
could trace no desire in myself for such a life in Paradise,
for a shimmer of something infinitely higher had shone in
my eyes.
And without disappointment, without anything of
the painful emotion one feels whose dearest hopes have
been shattered, I caught the words of the Master:
"To be born is to die;
All‐destroying, Oblivionʹs breath holds sway;
As in the gardens of Earth,
Flowers in Paradise fade, and pass away

************to be continued***********
Edited by yawares :heart:

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