Feverish With Longing

Drenched in fear, I sat, and let awareness take me down, down to the roots of most unpleasant state. There, I found resistance to change, and fear of suffering, and difficulty accepting the nature of life itself. Life not to be relied on, could turn on me any time. Even further down, lied craving for sensual pleasure, uninterrupted. Craving still strong, eroded only just a bit, and a sure indicator of need to keep on with practice . . . following the footsteps of Mittakali, my 'elder sister':

Although I left home for no home

and wandered, full of faith,

I was still greedy

for possessions and praise.

I lost my way:

My passions used me,

and I forgot the real point

of my wandering life.

Then as I sat in my little cell,

there was only terror.

I thought-this is the wrong way,

a fever of longing controls me.

Life is short.

Age and sickness gnaw away.

I have no time for carelessness

before this body breaks.

And as I watched the elements of mind and body

rise and fall away

I saw them as they really are.

I stood up.

My mind was completely free.

The Buddha's teaching has been done. 

- The First Buddhist Women: Translations and Commentary on the Therigatha, by Susan Murcott -

In One Spot

Things have been a bit rough on the home front, as of late. During such times, I turn to Uttama, my elder sister, for comfort:

Four times, five, I ran amok from my dwelling,

having gained no peace of awareness,

my thoughts out of control.

So I went to a trustworthy nun.

She taught me the Dhamma:

aggregates, sense spheres, and elements.

Hearing the Dhamma,

I did as she said.

For seven days I sat in one spot,

absorbed in rapture and bliss.

On the eighth, I stretched out my legs,

having burst the mass

of darkness.

And like her, I sit in one spot, absorbed in ebbs and flows of breath. Body, dissolved. Heart, cracked wide open. Mind, clear.

Own the Darkness, Feel the Light

If I sit long enough, the sensation lets itself known, made up of frustration, dissatisfaction, right there in the pit of the stomach. It's been with me for the longest time, I feel. No matter how much I pretend otherwise, deep down, my attitude towards it, has been one of distrust, unease, or at best, tolerant coexistence. Not surprisingly, all my efforts at wishing the unpleasantness away, either through manipulation, or clever   labeling, have only served to strengthen it even more.

This is when a good teacher, along with timely study, can make a difference . . .

Last night, Gil talked about importance of two legs that allow one to walk well on the Buddhist path:

Analogy of clasped hand. If hand is clasped for a long time, it hurts. Hurt leads to desire of ungrasping. Once hand is open, one can either focus on pain one is getting away from, or one can focus on the wonderful feeling of open hand.

Similarly, the spiritual process can be viewed from many different angles. Two perspectives in particular should be considered:

1) samvega: feeling of profound dissatisfaction, associated with meaningless life and suffering, of being in the darkness.

2) pasada: feeling of profound satisfaction, associated to faith in possibility of light, and a whole bunch of qualities from the heart, such as clarity, purity, tranquillity, etc

The Buddha tended to focus more on suffering and how to get away from it (samvega), and less on light at the tend (pasada). While it is important to have clear understanding of conditions that cause the darkness, so as to find way to the light, it is also important to not dwell exclusively in the darkness. And vice versa, one is to not dismiss the inherent dissatisfaction with life's conditions, for the sake of  pursuing the light. Otherwise the risk is that one ends up walking lopsided on the path. Need to lean on both legs for balanced practice. (my notes from talk, not Gil's exact words)

Along the same line, when reading the Verses of the Elder Nuns, yesterday, I was struck by the constant interplay between darkness and light throughout their stories. Never one without the other.

This morning, while sitting, in the coolness of mostly breath, and hardly thoughts, I felt the presence  again. Things were different however. Gil and the Elder Nuns still fresh in my mind, I no longer viewed the abrasive sensation, as an unwanted intruder, but instead as a legitimate friend, to  include in my life. As I did, feeling dropped some of its gritty edges off, and transformed into huge desire, filling my heart with determination, and joy.

I was left with beautiful feeling of being reconciled with myself.

In the Footsteps of the Elder Nuns

I have spent a lot of time lately, immersed 'In the Buddha's Words: An Anthology of Discourses from the Pali Canon', by Bhikkhu Bodhi. This morning was the part where The Blessed One addresses householders, meaning lay folks like you and I. An interesting smorgasbord of patriarchal rants, mixed in with some good Dharma talk, which then led to an interesting thread on Twitter between @crazywisdom, @josephzizys, and myself:

minddeep: Continuing reading of 'In the Buddha's Words' - interesting to note Buddha's dated views on gender roles . . .

crazywizdom: although, to be fair, we don't know what the #Buddha said. We just have "the echoes of echoes" - as one C.19th #tibetan lama said

minddeep: I wish I could go back in time & hear firsthand what Buddha actually said, minus filter of male transcribers

crazywizdom: interesting #Buddhist text to be aware of is the therigatha - thought to be the songs of realisation of the 1st female arhats :-)

josephzizys: Here is the whole thing translated by one of the greatest Buddhist scholars of the Victorian era http://bit.ly/4x2MT4

josephzizys: And it is a fantastic and harrowing collection of real, humble and courageous womens experience of enlightenment.

Needless to say, I had to leave the Buddha, and spend some time in the company of the Elder Nuns, instead. And what a spiritual feast it was! Joseph was right. Ubbiri, the grieving mother,  Baddha Kapilani, the old woman, Vimala, the ex-prostitute, Mittakali, the wanderer, Canda, the homeless, Anopama, the millionaire's daughter, Gotami, the Buddha's stepmother, Gutta, the childless one, Punnika, the servant, . . . and my favorite, Mutta, the one who leaves her crooked old husband behind:

So freed! So thoroughly freed am I! 

from three crooked things set free:

from mortar, pestle,

and crooked old husband.

Having uprooted the craving  

that leads to becoming,

I'm set free from aging and death.

Women, young and old, rich and poor, single and married, with or without children . . . Women from all walks of life, who touched me with the rawness of their honest tales about their liberation, all told straight from the heart.  Ordinary women, just like me, who make the path to enlightenment, seem so much more approachable.