The Golden Buddha

Once upon a time, far in the east, there was a country called Sayam. In the capital of this country there was an ancient temple of the Golden Buddha. People made long pilgrimages to visit this temple. Everyone knew of it and wanted to see the massive golden statue of the beautiful Buddha within.

One day the news came that a fierce foreign army was approaching the capital. The monks and devotees got together and quickly covered the statue from head to toe in mud and dirt. They made it look ordinary, with every bit of gold out of sight. It now looked dull and drab with no sparkle at all. It even gave out a peculiar odour that had to be camouflaged with incense.

Yes. The army made a huge clang as it arrived in the city with tonnes of ammunition and aggression, looking to plunder anything of value. A platoon of soldiers with armour and swords rode into the temple and looked around like hungry dogs. They found nothing of interest. Just an old dirty statue. They rode out and away.

Over time, new monks and devotees arrived. The old ones forgot to take the mud and dirt off. They forgot to tell the new ones about it. For years and years the Golden Buddha remained in hiding until one day, a young monk was deep in meditation a few feet away from it when he heard a crashing noise. His eyes opened and he saw that a bit of the mud had cracked and fallen off. Smashhhhh…onto the floor. He saw the left hand of the statue glinting in the dim evening light. He walked up to the statue and took a closer look. With eyes as wide as coins he ran out to get the others to see what he had seen. All of them got to work and took the mud shell down to reveal the awesome, pristine Golden Buddha.

This parable reminds us that we are all born pure and all-knowing, one with the divine. Over time we get conditioned to wear the shells or labels of ‘man’ or ‘rich’ or ‘silly’ or ‘mother’ or ‘short’ or ‘engineer’ and so on. Until one day something comes along and cracks the casing, making the gold within visible. Then we can’t help but keep picking at the dirt as nothing else satisfies us. We keep peeling the layers of muck away bit by bit by bit, till it’s all done and we are free.

Freedom on a page

Writing is a friend. It sustains. It slowly pushes open the rusted, jammed doors of many hearts and allows for the gaping wounds in there to heal. Over the last few weeks it’s clear that it is not just possible but fun, to attend and host meetings remotely. Despite challenges, it can be enriching. A wise man/woman has identified 3 things one needs, to get through a day :

  1. Someone to love.
  2. Something to do.
  3. Something to look forward to.

No wonder people are gardening, baking, embroidering and doing various things, spending time or connecting in creative ways with people they love. We have been setting one episode of ‘The Crown’ as our carrot, to look forward to at the end of a long ‘working from home’ day. I have been writing some poetry and dreaming of putting a book together and getting it published some day. There goes my Ego …. again!

This seems like a good time to do something new. I would like to invite you to write with me. To connect with your hearts and bring a blank page to life. To find your own expression and share other people’s worlds through their words and prose. We would call ourselves “Freedom on a page”. In this time of partial captivity, this title seemed appropriate. If you have other suggestions, please bring them to the group. We would meet every Tuesday morning for an hour and a half – between 9 and 10.30 am on Zoom. We would write as much as we like during the week but have 200-300 words to read out to the group. If you would much rather only listen, that’s fine too. Join in. Don’t think so hard that you talk yourself out of it. You have done that before. Haven’t you? 😉

If you would like to join, please

(1) e-mail me at kidsaregifts20@gmail.com by Saturday, the 23rd of May. If you’d like more time to decide, take that time and send me the e-mail when you are ready.

(2) familiarise yourself with Zoom (https://zoom.us/) and download it on your computer/phone. It is free and easy. You can switch the video off if you don’t want to be seen. You can participate by writing on the ‘chat’ if you don’t want to speak.

I will send you an invite by e-mail on Monday, the 25th. I will start the meeting 15 minutes before 9 am, UK time (GMT+1) on Tuesday, the 26th of May and wait for you. Then we’ll see what happens. I have never done this before so I am a little bit nervous too. Shall we write about what ‘Freedom’ means to you? Feel free to pick any other subject. I look forward to this adventure. Depending on how you feel, we can continue to ‘meet-up’ every Tuesday.

Try it. Magic happens when the naked tip of a pen meets a nude blank page. The fingers holding that pen are deeply connected to the real you. So are the fingers typing on your keyboard.

Freedom on a page

Feathers fall from heavens like rain

A splash of sun-rays on the pavement lifts dust

Fills my senses with petrichor

The romance of which dances

In every gap, crack and crevice

I float up with the fragrance

And glide along the tops of trees

Breathe in bliss, touching green

Everything IS, as it IS

Watching its own ISNESS

Wrapped in a melodious silence.

This must be it

One moment of being fully alive.

— — — —

1+50+176+?

Merchandise at the Manchester Firing Line. Manchester New Hampshire. USA.

On a board of chess, both sides stand face to face

Using wise moves, strategies and tacts.

No drones, no justified assassinations   

No sneaky cyber-attacks.

Two rooks, bishops and knights, both sides have by rights.

Those are the rules of the game. For both sides, the same.

Some things are clearly wrong and others that are right.

Whether your pieces are black, or brown or white.

The way the moves are made,

the way the game is played,

a knight is often not the first to be slayed.

A murder in plain sight

Yet, everyone kept quiet.

No criticism. No outcry?

The killers had good reason. That is why.

They always do.

But do they speak the truth?

Who knows? Do you?

Vietnam, Iraq and now this.

For what? For who?

He was someone’s dad, someone’s son,

A military leader, not holding a gun.

This was an act of cowardice, just for fun.

Guns are a sport in the land

from where the assassin came.

The killers proudly laid claim

To this, their ‘good deed’.

Knowing full well that yet again,

they are sowing a seed.

A seed of death and conflict.

Within a week, a stampede.

Multiple counter-strikes

Hitting innocent planes and passers-by.

Who are the ones that die?

People like you and I.

While the international bully

Keeps on keeping on fighting

In the name of self-defence,

‘Freedom and Liberty’?

When a gun is fired, two people die.

The one hit by the bullet

and the one who let it fly.

War is not the answer. Please.

How can we tolerate this?

Instead of wrapping the world in daisy-chains,

We are covering it in wreaths.

(Footnote: Sixty thousand war veterans, many of them young men, have died by suicide in the USA in 2008-2017. On an average 17 to 20 suicides per day and the rates are not falling despite massive efforts.

https://www.military.com/daily-news/2019/09/23/alarming-va-report-totals-decade-veteran-suicides.html)

Day 839

A few weeks ago Desert Island Discs completed 75 years on BBC Radio4.(http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b08cd2fk) A brief excerpt of an interview with Archbishop Desmond Tutu caught my ear. He talked about his experience of freedom when he came to England in the 1960s. He could go into any restaurant, speak openly and be himself. White policemen spoke to him with respect. He said that anyone who had never experienced such a great contrast as the one between his home country and the UK would not understand how wonderful that freedom felt.

This made me think about what freedom means to me. I read some of the Archbishop’s teachings and found the ancient Bantu word ‘Ubuntu’ meaning “the belief in a universal bond of sharing that connects all humanity”.

“Ubuntu .. the very essence of being human. A person with ubuntu is open and available to others, affirming of others, does not feel threatened that others are able and good, for he or she has a proper self-assurance that comes from knowing that he or she belongs in a greater whole and is diminished when others are humiliated or diminished, when others are tortured or oppressed.”

“We are made for goodness. We are made for love. We are made for friendliness. We are made for togetherness. We are made for all of the beautiful things that you and I know. We are made to tell the world that there are no outsiders. All are welcome: black, white, red, yellow, rich, poor, educated, not educated, male, female, gay, straight, all, all, all. We all belong to this family, this human family.”

“My humanity is caught up, is inextricably bound up, in yours. We belong in a bundle of life. A person is a person through other persons; you can’t be human in isolation; you are human only in relationships” ― Desmond Tutu

Nelson Mandela said something similar – ‘For to be free is not merely to cast off one’s chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others.’

Freedom cannot be achieved by isolating oneself. Waging wars in the name of freedom is a fundamentally flawed concept, be it nations or individuals. Freedom is uplifting and life enhancing for everyone, not for one at the cost of the other. Ubuntu.

‘I am what I am because of who we all are.’