Let Go #Reverb10

December 5: Let Go.
What (or whom) did you let go of this year? Why
(Author: Alice Bradley)

I let go of the need to live in the countryside.

It's a bit of a strange realisation but it's true. We still live on the outskirts of a very small city, but now we are within walking and cycling distance of my rural work and all the amenities of the city.

I previously valued living in a small rural hamlet (8 houses within sight) for the sense of isolation and direct connection to nature. I loved the view of the stars and moon at night, the sunrise and the sunset, and the gorgeous hills during the day. I loved the sense of space and how green the surroundings were. (There was still a noisy road in front of the house so it's wasn't quite perfect!) I was in a space of so much beauty and wonder to meditate within and draw inspiration from.

Earlier this year we decided to downsize and move to the edge of the city. It was a bit of a hard decision in many ways and it probably took several months or longer for me to actually feel ready to do so. I needed to let go. And it took time. There were many intellectual arguments I had with myself about the advantages of each location and house size. But in the end the intellect can only ever go so far and then we must go beyond by letting go.

And so I did and we moved.

And it has been great, the stars and the moon are still my early morning company. It's traffic and train noises in the earlier hours now rather than roosters though! And we still have plenty of direct contact with nature including walking more.

And in meditation the view out is different now but the view in remains the same, although both are in fact, ever changing.

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I'm participating in Reverb10 and reflecting on my Dharma practice (i.e. life!) in 2010 as explained briefly in a previous post. Feel free to join in on your blog and/or add your comments on my reflections.

an Inn for All

Realisation: The Palace that Became an Inn for All

A respected monk arrived at the gates of a King's grand palace. Due to his great fame, none of the guards dared to halt him as he entered the hall where the King was seated on his throne. The following conversation ensued.

King: Dear Venerable Sir, how may I assist you?
Monk: I would like somewhere to spend the night in this inn.
King: You have mistaken! This is no inn - it's my palace!
Monk: Who owned this place before you?
King: My late father.
Monk: And who ruled it before him?
King: My grandfather, who is also deceased.
Monk: If this is where people come to live only for a while before leaving, why is it not an inn?
King: I am so sorry! This is indeed an inn. Your stay is most welcome!

The monk had wanted to remind the King of the irrefutable truth of transience, of all things material and even mental, of the fleeting nature of his life, wealth and status - despite wielding great power. Similar to the King, wherever we live, be it a big house or a small apartment, is like a hotel. Even the most valuable material things within are but items in a hotel, temporally 'loaned' to us for use. As much as we might wish to live in this hotel forever, we can never - unless we realise the path to transcend the cycle of life and death. Even this body that we have, which we think is ours to rule over is a hotel which we live in, for usually less than a hundred more years! If so, may we use 'our' body wisely and share 'our' posessions kindly! - Shen Shi'an


I received this recently on one of the Daily Enlightenment weekly emails and it gave me cause for reflection. What I saw was that I really don't treat my own home as well as I would treat an "Inn for All". In fact I pay much much less attention to the cleanliness and tidiness of "my own spaces" than I do to other places. For example, when I stay with my fiancée at her friend's flat, as we often do over weekends, we usually dedicate an hour or even two to cleaning the place before we leave it. We are both very grateful for the weekend loan of the flat and we do our best to leave it in a tidier and cleaner state than how we receive it. And this is not to say it is ever untidy or unclean when we get there! And I really enjoy this cleaning time we have together, it is very meditative and a nice way to offer gratitude.

So what is missing when it comes to treating "my own space" as an "Inn for All" and putting in the extra effort and love to express the respect and gratitude I feel?

I'm not sure yet actually, but I can certainly see it is missing in many areas - "my" (rented) house, "my" garden, "my" car, "my" work space... I keep all of these relatively tidy and relatively clean, but not to the degree that I can say they are always an expression of my respect and gratitude and ready to hand over to the next (royal?) occupant!

...to be a 'nothingist'

天葬台

宰了

割了

烂捣碎了

燃一柱香

打一声呼哨

来了

就去了

来去都干干净净

Sky Burial

Cut

Scalped

Pounded into pieces

Light an incense

Blow the whistle

Come

Gone

Out and out

- 13 April 1986, Beijing

I discovered the Nobel laureate Gao Xingjian (高行健 ) last week via a reference in a novel I was reading. Sadly it seems that this poem is the only one to have survived his 're-education' during the Cultural Revolution and it does not appear that he has published any poetry since, although he has published 5 novels and many plays.

From an interview in the Guardian:
"Literature can't merely be an expression of self - that would be unbearable," Gao says. "You have to be critical not just of society and others, but of yourself: each subject has three pronouns: 'I', 'you', and 'he' or 'she'." He sees such self-scrutiny as a safeguard: "If you're not perfectly conscious of yourself, that self can be tyrannical; in relationship to others, anyone can become a tyrant. That's why no one can be a Superman. You have to go beyond yourself with a 'third eye' - self-awareness - because the one thing you cannot flee is yourself."

The interview also includes this excerpt from The Case for Literature, translated by Mabel Lee, published by Yale University Press:
"Without Isms is neither nihilism nor eclecticism; nor is it egotism or solipsism. It opposes totalitarian dictatorship but also opposes the inflation of the self to God or Superman. It hates seeing other people trampled on like dog shit. Without Isms detests politics and does not take part in politics, but is not opposed to other people who do. If people want to get involved in politics, let them go right ahead. What Without Isms opposes is the foisting of a particular brand of politics on to the individual by means of abstract collective names such as 'the people', 'the race' or 'the nation'."

All such thinking aside, I posted this because the poem touches me deeply. I read it and feel like weeping for the fragility of a human life, the pain and sadness of impermanence. And yet the simple beauty also. Come. Gone. Out and Out. Indeed! A reminder to let go, always to let go. Sadness? Let go. Pain? Let go. Happiness? Let go. Positive thoughts? Let go. Negative thoughts? Let go. Opinions? Let go. Hopes? Let go. Judgements? Let go. Emotions? Let go. This body? Let go. This mind? Let go. Light an incense.

Let go now, don't waste a precious moment, this life might be over sooner than we expect.

UPDATE: The Artsy website has wonderful page profiling Gao Xingjian and his artwork. Do check it out.