The sweet smell of earth after the first few drops of rain,
The tiny burst of multiple citrus bubbles after a sip of soda with calamansi,
The subtle hint of loved ones in the mirror – mother, brother, child,
The tiny beads of sweat on the back on a warm and humid afternoon,
The few shades of darkened skin after having seen the sun,
The matching emerald of the stones on my finger ring, the deep waters and my sweetheart’s eyes,
The caring touch of a hand,
The comforting weight of an arm across my body,
The phasic rhythm of two breaths in tandem,
The bountiful deliciousness of a small bite of a seasonal mango,
The verdant greenness of the land,
The fresh, pure sea breeze cleansing every pore,
The content vibrations of a purring cat,
The amnesia that comes through laughter with old friends,
The perfect sips of Darjeeling tea first thing in the morning,
The fragrance of jasmine strong enough to force you to stop and inhale deeply with eyes closed,
The movement of air within the nostrils, going in and out,
The carpet of stars from horizon to horizon,
The duets of waters and birds,
The subtle life force connecting me with everything that is,
The experience of ‘being’ human, being here in the centre of now.
gratitude
Day 391
“Suchness” or “thusness” means “it is so”.
It cannot be described in words as it is not a mere concept.
It can only be experienced.
Suppose someone asks you what an orange tastes like. Rather than describe it, best to invite them to taste an orange. This allows them to enter the suchness of the orange.
To remind his disciples on the beginningless and endless nature of reality, Buddha asked them to address him as “Tathagata” – one who arises from suchness, abides in suchness and returns to suchness, a non-conceptualisable reality.
Who or what does not arise from suchness? You and I, a caterpillar, a speck of dust – all do. In fact, the words “arise from”, “abide in” and “return to” have no real meaning. One can never leave suchness.
When asked what happens to Tathagata after death, Buddha replied, “As Tathagata cannot be found in form or outside form, cannot be recognized through feeling, perception, mental formations or consciousness, why worry if I will continue to exist or cease to exist, or neither continue, nor cease to exist after death.
Robert Oppenheimer, the physicist known as the father of the first atomic bomb understood this based on his observations of particles:
“To what appeared to be the simplest questions, we will tend to give either no answer or an answer which at first sight be reminiscent more of a strange catechism than of the straightforward affirmatives of physical science. If we ask, for instance, whether the position of the electron remains the same, we must say ‘No’; if we ask whether the electron’s position changes with time we must say ‘No’; if we ask whether the electron is at rest, we must say ‘No’; if we ask whether it is in motion, we must say ‘No’.”
The language of science has begun to approach the language of ancient wisdom. Being a practitioner of science and of ancient teachings, I am starting to see the deep connection between the two. ‘Understanding’ is an intellectual pursuit. Some knowledge is beyond understanding. The above paragraph awakens something within me that has been there, lying dormant for many centuries. Once again, bringing me back to – It is so.
Day 390
Tropical waters are pure magic. This morning we went snorkeling and I got a peep into a whole new world. I felt as though I had been transported to a world of colour and vitality. Some fish were flat with fins coming out at funky angles, some were half turquiose and half peacock blue as though they had been dipped in two buckets of dye. Some were shimmery gray with a turmeric dot at the base of their tails. There were black and white stripy ones, some with an additional yellow line. They came in all sizes, the clowns and the puffers. The tiniest ones moved in large schools very close to the surface of the water, swimming in utter synchronicity. Sometimes it seemed as if they were playing hide and seek with each other. Some were dancing together and others were chasing and racing each other. They had clever little hiding places where you would least suspect them – they could quickly disappear somewhere within a coral or burrow into holes in the bed of the ocean.
All this was taking place in the backdrop of a multitude of corals – bush like things with many fingers reaching up to the sun. The finger tips being a brighter and lighter shade of the fingers, be it ochre, orange, red, brown or green. Some of them looked like the surface of the brain. Some looked like underwater heathers in pinks and mauves strewn over golden sands. A few giant clams sat at the bottom looking very solid and smug.
I was speechless when we finished. I felt blessed.
We live on a beautiful planet. Please let us look after it.
Day 386
The ‘tricycle’ in the Philippines is a regular mode of transport that can easily carry 4 if not 5 people. It is a regular motorcycle with a side car attached to it. It is commonly used in rural areas for traveling short distances. It is the perfect car alternative – it is covered and has ventilation. Lots of it!
We had the good fortune of getting a ride on a tricycle today, up and down a mountainous road, some parts of it in poor condition. The tricycle valiantly dragged us up slopes that would be difficult to walk. It was exciting in many ways – we could feel the wind, every pothole on the road and the immense torque on the front wheel. In addition the sounds emanating from the engine while under various degrees of strain were entertaining too, and a testament to the driver’s skill.
The visit to the local farmer’s market was fascinating. Most of the fruits and veg had travelled just a few miles to be there. Fruit was clearly tree ripened. The fish market was so clean that it hardly smelt of fish. The yellow fin tuna was being sold whole. Sadly the difference in size of fish from 20 years ago was remarkable. These ones were just one quarter the size they used to be. Speaking to the locals, it was clear that the waters have been overfished.
Trays full of eggs the colour of Potassium Permanganate! Yes. I thought I was seeing things but they were for real. They are salted duck eggs that are cured in a mixture of clay, salt and water for about 18 days and then boiled for 30 minutes. I was curious enough to buy them but haven’t tried one out yet. I think they look very pretty. Too pretty to break.
Day 378
When I was being with ‘non-resistance’ on Day 375 I felt light and at ease, like a fresh water stream running through a quiet forest, cleansing everything that came in it’s way. Whereas yesterday, while I was filled with anger I felt like a grimy old brick wall spattered with blood.
Over the course of today, some of that water has washed off some of that dirt. Both things co-exist, each finding expression in different ways at different times.
How would my son want me to be? He was very forgiving. If he knew something made me happy, he put his own feelings aside. For instance I know my cycling worried him a lot as he thought I could easily get hurt. He expressed that concern in the gentlest way possible because he knew I enjoyed it so much. He didn’t bear any grudges. He was open hearted and accepting of other people’s decisions. He just wanted to be happy and make others happy. Could I ever be like him?
The candle that I light for him everyday brings light to this world and to my life, just like love does. His thoughts and memories do too. Here’s an adapted poem that another grieving Mum shared with me.
“Light a candle, see it glow,
watch it dance, when you feel low,
think of me, think of light,
I’ll always be here, day or night,
a candle can flicker, sometimes out of sight,
but in your heart, It still burns ever so bright,
think not of sadness, that I’m not near,
think of memories and never fear
I have not left you, I’m always here”
kidsaregifts 