Guest guest Posted August 31, 2002 Report Share Posted August 31, 2002 Patrul Rinpoche Advice from Me to Myself Vajrasattva, sole deity, Master, You sit on a full-moon lotus-cushion of white light In the hundred-petalled full bloom of youth. Think of me, Vajrasattva, You who remain unmoved within the manifest display That is Mahamudra, pure bliss-emptiness. Listen up, old bad-karma Patrul, You dweller-in-distraction. For ages now you've been Beguiled, entranced, and fooled by appearances. Are you aware of that? Are you? Right this very instant, when you're Under the spell of mistaken perception You've got to watch out. Don't let yourself get carried away by this fake and empty life. Your mind is spinning around About carrying out a lot of useless projects: It's a waste! Give it up! Thinking about the hundred plans you want to accomplish, With never enough time to finish them, Just weighs down your mind. You're completely distracted By all these projects, which never come to an end, But keep spreading out more, like ripples in water. Don't be a fool: for once, just sit tight. Listening to the teachings—you've already heard hundreds of teachings, But when you haven't grasped the meaning of even one teaching, What's the point of more listening? Reflecting on the teachings—even though you've listened, If the teachings aren't coming to mind when needed, What's the point of more reflection? None. Meditating according to the teachings— If your meditation practice still isn't curing The obscuring states of mind—forget about it! You've added up just how many mantras you've done— But you aren't accomplishing the kyerim visualizatiion. You may get the forms of deities nice and clear— But you're not putting an end to subject and object. You may tame what appear to be evil spirits and ghosts, But you're not training the stream of your own mind. Your four fine sessions of sadhana practice, So meticulously arranged— Forget about them. When you're in a good mood, Your practice seems to have lots of clarity— But you just can't relax into it. When you're depressed, Your practice is stable enough But there's no brilliance to it. As for awareness, You try to force yourself into a rigpa-like state, As if stabbing a stake into a target! When those yogic positions and gazes keep your mind stable Only by keeping mind tethered— Forget about them! Giving high-sounding lectures Doesn't do your mind-stream any good. The path of analytical reasoning is precise and acute— But it's just more delusion, good for nothing goat-shit. The oral instructions are very profound But not if you don't put them into practice. Reading over and over those dharma texts That just occupy your mind and make your eyes sore— Forget about it! You beat your little damaru drum—ting, ting— And your audience thinks it's charming to hear. You're reciting words about offering up your body, But you still haven't stopped holding it dear. You're making your little cymbals go cling, cling— Without keeping the ultimate purpose in mind. All this dharma-practice equipment That seems so attractive— Forget about it! Right now, those students are all studying so very hard, But in the end, they can't keep it up. Today, they seem to get the idea, But later on, there's not a trace left. Even if one of them manages to learn a little, He rarely applies his "learning" to his own conduct. Those elegant dharma disciplines— Forget about them! This year, he really cares about you, Next year, it's not like that. At first, he seems modest, Then he grows exalted and pompous. The more you nurture and cherish him, The more distant he grows. These dear friends Who show such smiling faces to begin with— Forget about them! Her smile seems so full of joy— But who knows if that's really the case? One time, it's pure pleasure, Then it's nine months of mental pain. It might be fine for a month, But sooner or later, there's trouble. People teasing; your mind embroiled— Your lady-friend— Forget about her! These endless rounds of conversation Are just attachment and aversion— It's just more goat-shit, good for nothing at all. At the time it seems marvellously entertaining, But really, you're just spreading around stories about other people's mistakes. Your audience seems to be listening politely, But then they grow embarrassed for you. Useless talk that just make you thirsty— Forget about it! Giving teachings on meditation texts Without yourself having Gained actual experience through practice, Is like reciting a dance-manual out loud And thinking that's the same as actually dancing. People may be listening to you with devotion, But it just isn't the real thing. Sooner or later, when your own actions Contradict the teachings, you'll feel ashamed. Just mouthing the words, Giving dharma explanations that sound so eloquent— Forget about it! When you don't have a text, you long for it; Then when you've finally gotten it, you hardly look at it. The number of pages seems few enough, But it's a bit hard to find time to copy them all. Even if you copied down all the dharma texts on earth, You wouldn't be satisfied. Copying down texts is a waste of time (Unless you get paid)— So forget about it! Today, they're happy as clams— Tomorrow, they're furious. With all their black moods and white moods, People are never satisfied. Or even if they're nice enough, They may not come through when you really need them, Disappointing you even more. All this politeness, keeping up a Courteous demeanor— Forget about it! Worldly and religious work Is the province of gentlemen. Patrul, old boy—that's not for you. Haven't you noticed what always happens? An old bull, once you've gone to the trouble of borrowing him for his services, Seems to have absolutely no desire left in him at all— (Except to go back to sleep). Be like that—desireless. Just sleep, eat, piss, shit. There's nothing else in life that has to be done. Don't get involved with other things: They're not the point. Keep a low profile, Sleep. In the triple universe When you're lower than your company You should take the low seat. Should you happen to be the superior one, Don't get arrogant. There's no absolute need to have close friends; You're better off just keeping to yourself. When you're without any worldly or religious obligations, Don't keep on longing to acquire some! If you let go of everything— Everything, everything— That's the real point! This advice was written by the practitioner Trime Lodro (Patrul Rinpoche) for his intimate friend Ahu Shri (Patrul Rinpoche), in order to give advice that is tailored exactly to his capacities. This advice should be put into practice. Even though you don't know how to practice, just let go of everything—that's what I really want to say. Even though you aren't able to succeed in your dharma practice. don't get angry. May it be virtuous. Patrul Rinpoche (1808-1887) was the wandering turn-of-the-century Dzogchen master of Eastern Tibet, beloved by the people. He was renowned as the enlightened vagabond. Translation by Constance Wilkinson All errors and misunderstandings are those of the translator. May this poem, despite all shortcomings of its translation, serve to benefit beings. Sarva Mangalam. Finance - Get real-time stock quotes Finance - Get real-time stock quotes Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted August 31, 2002 Report Share Posted August 31, 2002 thank you thats a wonderfull poem ariel --- Robert O'Hearn <hrtbeat7 wrote: > > > > > Patrul Rinpoche > > Advice from Me to Myself > > > Vajrasattva, sole deity, Master, > You sit on a full-moon lotus-cushion of white light > In the hundred-petalled full bloom of youth. > > Think of me, Vajrasattva, > You who remain unmoved within the manifest display > That is Mahamudra, pure bliss-emptiness. > > Listen up, old bad-karma Patrul, > You dweller-in-distraction. > > For ages now you've been > Beguiled, entranced, and fooled by appearances. > Are you aware of that? Are you? > Right this very instant, when you're > Under the spell of mistaken perception > You've got to watch out. > Don't let yourself get carried away by this fake and > empty life. > > > Your mind is spinning around > About carrying out a lot of useless projects: > It's a waste! Give it up! > Thinking about the hundred plans you want to > accomplish, > With never enough time to finish them, > Just weighs down your mind. > You're completely distracted > By all these projects, which never come to an end, > But keep spreading out more, like ripples in water. > Don't be a fool: for once, just sit tight. > > Listening to the teachings—you've already heard > hundreds of teachings, > But when you haven't grasped the meaning of even one > teaching, > What's the point of more listening? > > Reflecting on the teachings—even though you've > listened, > If the teachings aren't coming to mind when needed, > What's the point of more reflection? None. > > Meditating according to the teachings— > If your meditation practice still isn't curing > The obscuring states of mind—forget about it! > > You've added up just how many mantras you've done— > But you aren't accomplishing the kyerim > visualizatiion. > You may get the forms of deities nice and clear— > But you're not putting an end to subject and object. > > You may tame what appear to be evil spirits and > ghosts, > But you're not training the stream of your own mind. > > > Your four fine sessions of sadhana practice, > So meticulously arranged— > Forget about them. > > When you're in a good mood, > Your practice seems to have lots of clarity— > But you just can't relax into it. > When you're depressed, > Your practice is stable enough > But there's no brilliance to it. > As for awareness, > You try to force yourself into a rigpa-like state, > As if stabbing a stake into a target! > > When those yogic positions and gazes keep your mind > stable > Only by keeping mind tethered— > Forget about them! > > Giving high-sounding lectures > Doesn't do your mind-stream any good. > The path of analytical reasoning is precise and > acute— > But it's just more delusion, good for nothing > goat-shit. > The oral instructions are very profound > But not if you don't put them into practice. > > Reading over and over those dharma texts > That just occupy your mind and make your eyes sore— > Forget about it! > > You beat your little damaru drum—ting, ting— > And your audience thinks it's charming to hear. > You're reciting words about offering up your body, > But you still haven't stopped holding it dear. > You're making your little cymbals go cling, cling— > Without keeping the ultimate purpose in mind. > > All this dharma-practice equipment > That seems so attractive— > Forget about it! > > Right now, those students are all studying so very > hard, > But in the end, they can't keep it up. > > > Today, they seem to get the idea, > But later on, there's not a trace left. > Even if one of them manages to learn a little, > He rarely applies his " learning " to his own conduct. > > > Those elegant dharma disciplines— > Forget about them! > > This year, he really cares about you, > Next year, it's not like that. > At first, he seems modest, > Then he grows exalted and pompous. > The more you nurture and cherish him, > The more distant he grows. > > These dear friends > Who show such smiling faces to begin with— > Forget about them! > > Her smile seems so full of joy— > But who knows if that's really the case? > One time, it's pure pleasure, > Then it's nine months of mental pain. > It might be fine for a month, > But sooner or later, there's trouble. > > People teasing; your mind embroiled— > Your lady-friend— > Forget about her! > > These endless rounds of conversation > Are just attachment and aversion— > It's just more goat-shit, good for nothing at all. > At the time it seems marvellously entertaining, > But really, you're just spreading around stories > about other people's mistakes. > Your audience seems to be listening politely, > But then they grow embarrassed for you. > > Useless talk that just make you thirsty— > Forget about it! > > Giving teachings on meditation texts > Without yourself having > Gained actual experience through practice, > Is like reciting a dance-manual out loud > And thinking that's the same as actually dancing. > > People may be listening to you with devotion, > But it just isn't the real thing. > > Sooner or later, when your own actions > Contradict the teachings, you'll feel ashamed. > > > Just mouthing the words, > Giving dharma explanations that sound so eloquent— > Forget about it! > > When you don't have a text, you long for it; > Then when you've finally gotten it, you hardly look > at it. > > The number of pages seems few enough, > But it's a bit hard to find time to copy them all. > Even if you copied down all the dharma texts on > earth, > You wouldn't be satisfied. > > Copying down texts is a waste of time > (Unless you get paid)— > So forget about it! > > Today, they're happy as clams— > Tomorrow, they're furious. > With all their black moods and white moods, > People are never satisfied. > Or even if they're nice enough, > They may not come through when you really need them, > > Disappointing you even more. > > All this politeness, keeping up a > Courteous demeanor— > === message truncated === http://mobile..au - Messenger for SMS - Now send & receive IMs on your mobile via SMS Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 1, 2002 Report Share Posted September 1, 2002 Nisargadatta, ariel cathcart <arielcathcart> wrote: > thank you thats a wonderfull poem ... Perhaps you have heard of Layman P'ang? You might enjoy this: Layman Pang, by Hsu Yun Sometimes ordinary folks get the idea that the meaning of Chan is so profound that only men and women who've been ordained in the Dharma can possibly fathom it. But that's just not so. Actually, we priests often feel that we're in way over our heads. And every now and then, while we splash about, trying to look good treading water in our nice uniforms, along comes a civilian who zips by us, swimming like an Olympic champion. Such a civilian was Layman Pang, He would have won Chan's gold medal. He's been a hero not only to centuries' worth of other laymen, but also, I confess, to every priest who's ever studied his winning style. Layman Pang lived during the latter half of the Eighth Century, a golden age for Chan. He was an educated family man- he had a wife and a son and daughter- and was well enough off financially to be able to devote his time to Buddhist studies. He got the idea that a person needed solitude in order to meditate and ponder the Dharma, so he built himself a little one-room monastery near his family home. Every day he went there to study and practice. His wife, son and daughter studied the Dharma, too; but they stayed in the family house, conducting their business and doing their chores, incorporating Buddhism into their daily lives. Layman Pang had submerged himself in the sutras and one day he found that he, too, was in over his head. He hadn't learned to swim yet. On that day, he stormed out of his monastery-hut and, in abject frustration complained to his wife, " Difficult! Difficult! Difficult! Trying to grasp so many facts is like trying to store sesame seeds in the leaves of a tree top! " His wife retorted, " Easy! Easy! Easy! You've been studying words, but I study the grass and find the Buddha Self reflected in every drop of dew. " Now, Layman Pang's daughter, Ling Zhao, was listening to this verbal splashing, so she went swimming by. " Two old people foolishly chattering! " she called. " Just a minute! " shouted Layman Pang. " If you're so smart, tell us your method. " Ling Zhao returned to her parents and said gently, " It's not difficult, and it's not easy. When I'm hungry, I eat. When I'm tired, I sleep " Ling Zhao had mastered Natural Chan. Layman Pang learned a lot that day. He understood so much that he put away his books, locked his little monastery-hut, and decided to visit different Chan masters to test his understanding. He still couldn't compete against his own daughter, but he was getting pretty good. One day, he piled all of his belongings into a boat, rowed out into the ocean, and dumped everything overboard. When he returned to shore, his angry neighbors shouted at him, " Why didn't you give those things away to others? " " If they are not good for me, " Pang replied, " then how can I give them to others? " Eventually he wound up at Nan Yueh Mountain where Master Shi Tou had a monastic retreat. Layman Pang went directly to the master and asked, " Where can I find a man who's unattached to material things? " Master Shi Tou slowly raised his hand and closed Pang's mouth. In that one gesture, Pang's Chan really deepened. He stayed at Nan Yueh for many months. All the monks there watched him and became quite curious about his Natural Chan, his perfect equanimity. Even Master Shi Tou was moved to ask him what his secret was. " Everyone marvels at your methods, " said Shi Tou. " Tell me. Do you have any special powers? " Layman Pang just smiled and said, " No, no special powers. My day is filled with humble activities and I just keep my mind in harmony with my tasks. I accept what comes without desire or aversion. When encountering other people, I maintain an uncritical attitude, never admiring, never condemning. To me, red is red and not crimson or scarlet. So, what marvelous method do I use? Well, when I chop wood, I chop wood; and when I carry water, I carry water. " Master Shi Tou was understandably impressed by this response. He wanted Pang to join his Sangha. " A fellow like you shouldn't remain a layman, " said Shi Tou. " Why don't you shave your head and become a monk? " The proposition signaled the end of Pang's sojourn with Shi Tou. Clearly, he could learn no more from this master. Pang responded with a simple remark. " I'll do what I'll do, " and what he did was leave. He next showed up at the doorstep of the formidable Master Ma Zu. Again he asked the master, " Where can I find a man who's unattached to material things? " Ma Tzu frowned and replied, " I'll tell you after you've swallowed West River in one gulp " In grasping that one remark, Pang was able to complete his enlightenment. He saw that Uncritical Mind was not enough. His mind had to become as immense as Buddha Mind; it had to encompass all Samsara and Nirvana, to expand into Infinity's Void. Such a mind could swallow the Pacific. Layman Pang stayed with Master Ma Zu until he discovered one day that he had no more to learn from him, either. On that particular occasion, Pang approached Ma Zu and, standing over him, said, " An enlightened fellow asks you to look up:' Ma Zu deliberately looked straight down. Layman Pang sighed, " How beautifully you play the stringless lute! " At this point, Ma Zu had confirmed that there was no difference between human beings, that they were truly one and the same individual. As Pang had looked down, Ma Zu would look down. There was no one else to look up. But then, unaccountably, Ma Zu looked straight up and broke the spell, so to speak. So Layman Pang bowed low and remained in that obeisance of finality as Ma Zu rose and began to walk away. As the Master brushed past him, the Layman whispered, " Bungled it, didn't you... trying to be clever. " Layman Pang had attained mastery and every master he encountered acknowledged this. But what is evident to a master is not always evident to an ordinary monk. One winter day, while Pang was leaving the monastery of Master Yao Shan, some young monks, who were disdainful of his status as a mere layman, accompanied him to the front door. When Pang looked outside, he saw that it was snowing. " Good snow! " he said. " The flakes do not fall elsewhere " A monk named Quan, who was as impudent as he was stupid, completely missed the wit in Pang's remark. He mocked the Layman, asking sarcastically, " Where did you expect the flakes to fall? " Now, Pang was good naturedly complimenting the snow for not falling in the kitchen or the meditation hall, that is to say, for falling where snow was supposed to fall- in the courtyard and fields, on the trees and roads. Pang knew that he would have to walk a long distance in that bitterly cold snow, and he had accepted that fact without distress. But Pang not only had the wisdom of a master, he had the temper, too. When he saw the sneer on the young monk's face, he struck him. " How dare you! " said the monk " And you're an ordained monk? " asked Pang incredulously. " Why, you'd be rejected at Hell's gates! " " Just what do you mean by that? " demanded the monk. Pang struck him again. " I mean that though you have eyes, ears and tongue, you're absolutely blind, deaf, and dumb. " Then he calmly went out into the snow as if it were just so much sunshine. He had given the monk quite a lesson. But usually he was extremely kind and patient with those he instructed. One day, as he listened to a man who was trying to explain the Diamond Sutra, he noticed that the fellow was struggling with the meaning of a line that dealt with the nonexistence of the ego personality " Perhaps I can help you, " Pang said. " Do you understand that that which is conditional and changing is not real and that which is unconditional and immutable is real? " " Yes, " replied the commentator. " Then is it not true that egos are conditional and changing, that no ego is the same from one minute to the next? Is it not true that with each passing minute, depending on circumstances and conditions, we acquire new information and new experiences just as we forget old information and experiences? " Yes, " added the commentator. " But what is there about us that is unconditional and unchanging? asked Pang. " Our common Buddha Nature! " replied the commentator, suddenly smiling, suddenly understanding. " That alone is real! The rest is mere illusion! " He was so happy that he inspired Pang to write him a poem: Since there is neither ego nor personality Who is distant and who is close? Take my advice and quit talking about reality. Experience it directly, for yourself. The nature of the Diamond Wisdom Is truth in all its singular purity. Fictitious egos can't divide or soil it The expressions, " I hear, " " I believe, " " I understand, " Are simply expedient expressions Tools in the diamond-cutter's hands. When the work's done, he puts them down. Layman Pang and his daughter Ling Zhao traveled around China meeting their expenses by selling bamboo articles they made. They grew old together, becoming legends of enlightenment. Their last residence was a mountain cave. Pang knew that it was time for him to lay his burden down. He was very tired and could not go on. Inside the cave there was one particular rock that he always sat on when meditating; so he took his seat and, intending to pass away when the sun was directly overhead, he sent Ling Zhao outside to watch for the moment that noon had come. In a few minutes, however, Ling Zhao returned to the cave breathless with excitement " Oh Father, " she shouted, " you must come outside and see this! There's been an eclipse of the sun! " Well, this was an extraordinary occurrence if ever there was one. Pang could not resist having a look at it. So he rose from his meditation rock and went outside. He looked and looked but there was no eclipse. Noon had come, that was all. But where was Ling Zhao? Pang returned to the cave and found her dead, her body sitting upright on his meditation rock. " Oh, that girl! " cried Pang. " She always was ahead of me:' He buried her and then, a week later, he, too, entered Nirvana. His body was cremated and the ashes scattered on the waters of a nearby lake. Half of the family was now gone. Word got back to his wife, who was living with their son. They were supporting themselves by farming. The wife said, " Oh, that stupid old man and that foolish girl - they had to do that without letting me know. " She went out into the fields and told the son, who was working the ground with a hoe. He made an exclamation, " SSSSSAAAA! " Then he stood for a while and died, standing up. The mother said, " Oh, that idiot son of mine. " Then she went around to take care of business, said good-bye to all her friends, and disappeared. There was never a trace of her again. LoveAlways, b Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 1, 2002 Report Share Posted September 1, 2002 haven't read yet the new one yet but was thinking on the first poem ,as my mind slows down a bit sometimes ,especially after a wine with dinner but was thinking of my life style at the moment,no job no girlfriend very few friends ,that pissing shitting eating sleeping ,looks mighty good to me ariel --- hrtbeat7 <hrtbeat7 wrote: <HR> <html><body> <tt> Nisargadatta, ariel cathcart & lt;arielcathcart & gt; wrote:<BR> <BR> & gt; thank you thats a wonderfull poem ...<BR> <BR> <BR> Perhaps you have heard of Layman P'ang?<BR> You might enjoy this:<BR> <BR> <BR> Layman Pang, by Hsu Yun<BR> <BR> Sometimes ordinary folks get the idea that the meaning of Chan is so <BR> profound that only men and women who've been ordained in the Dharma <BR> can possibly fathom it. But that's just not so. Actually, we priests <BR> often feel that we're in way over our heads. And every now and then, <BR> while we splash about, trying to look good treading water in our nice <BR> uniforms, along comes a civilian who zips by us, swimming like an <BR> Olympic champion. Such a civilian was Layman Pang, He would have won <BR> Chan's gold medal. He's been a hero not only to centuries' worth of <BR> other laymen, but also, I confess, to every priest who's ever studied <BR> his winning style. <BR> Layman Pang lived during the latter half of the Eighth Century, a <BR> golden age for Chan. He was an educated family man- he had a wife and <BR> a son and daughter- and was well enough off financially to be able to <BR> devote his time to Buddhist studies. <BR> He got the idea that a person needed solitude in order to meditate <BR> and ponder the Dharma, so he built himself a little one-room <BR> monastery near his family home. Every day he went there to study and <BR> practice. <BR> His wife, son and daughter studied the Dharma, too; but they stayed <BR> in the family house, conducting their business and doing their <BR> chores, incorporating Buddhism into their daily lives. <BR> Layman Pang had submerged himself in the sutras and one day he found <BR> that he, too, was in over his head. He hadn't learned to swim yet. On <BR> that day, he stormed out of his monastery-hut and, in abject <BR> frustration complained to his wife, & quot;Difficult! Difficult! <BR> Difficult! Trying to grasp so many facts is like trying to store <BR> sesame seeds in the leaves of a tree top! & quot; <BR> His wife retorted, & quot;Easy! Easy! Easy! You've been studying words, but <BR> I study the grass and find the Buddha Self reflected in every drop of <BR> dew. & quot; <BR> Now, Layman Pang's daughter, Ling Zhao, was listening to this verbal <BR> splashing, so she went swimming by. & quot;Two old people foolishly <BR> chattering! & quot; she called.<BR> & quot;Just a minute! & quot; shouted Layman Pang. & quot;If you're so smart, tell us <BR> your method. & quot; <BR> Ling Zhao returned to her parents and said gently, & quot;It's not <BR> difficult, and it's not easy. When I'm hungry, I eat. When I'm tired, <BR> I sleep & quot; <BR> Ling Zhao had mastered Natural Chan. <BR> Layman Pang learned a lot that day. He understood so much that he put <BR> away his books, locked his little monastery-hut, and decided to visit <BR> different Chan masters to test his understanding. He still couldn't <BR> compete against his own daughter, but he was getting pretty good. <BR> One day, he piled all of his belongings into a boat, rowed out into <BR> the ocean, and dumped everything overboard. When he returned to <BR> shore, his angry neighbors shouted at him, & quot;Why didn't you give those <BR> things away to others? & quot; & quot;If they are not good for me, & quot; Pang <BR> replied, & quot;then how can I give them to others? & quot;<BR> Eventually he wound up at Nan Yueh Mountain where Master Shi Tou had <BR> a monastic retreat. Layman Pang went directly to the master and <BR> asked, & quot;Where can I find a man who's unattached to material things? & quot; <BR> Master Shi Tou slowly raised his hand and closed Pang's mouth. In <BR> that one gesture, Pang's Chan really deepened. He stayed at Nan Yueh <BR> for many months. <BR> All the monks there watched him and became quite curious about his <BR> Natural Chan, his perfect equanimity. Even Master Shi Tou was moved <BR> to ask him what his secret was. & quot;Everyone marvels at your methods, & quot; <BR> said Shi Tou. & quot;Tell me. Do you have any special powers? & quot; <BR> Layman Pang just smiled and said, & quot;No, no special powers. My day is <BR> filled with humble activities and I just keep my mind in harmony with <BR> my tasks. I accept what comes without desire or aversion. When <BR> encountering other people, I maintain an uncritical attitude, never <BR> admiring, never condemning. To me, red is red and not crimson or <BR> scarlet. So, what marvelous method do I use? Well, when I chop wood, <BR> I chop wood; and when I carry water, I carry water. & quot; <BR> Master Shi Tou was understandably impressed by this response. He <BR> wanted Pang to join his Sangha. & quot;A fellow like you shouldn't remain a <BR> layman, & quot; said Shi Tou. & quot;Why don't you shave your head and become a <BR> monk? & quot; <BR> The proposition signaled the end of Pang's sojourn with Shi Tou. <BR> Clearly, he could learn no more from this master. Pang responded with <BR> a simple remark. & quot;I'll do what I'll do, & quot; and what he did was leave. <BR> He next showed up at the doorstep of the formidable Master Ma Zu. <BR> Again he asked the master, & quot;Where can I find a man who's unattached <BR> to material things? & quot; Ma Tzu frowned and replied, & quot;I'll tell you after <BR> you've swallowed West River in one gulp & quot; <BR> In grasping that one remark, Pang was able to complete his <BR> enlightenment. He saw that Uncritical Mind was not enough. His mind <BR> had to become as immense as Buddha Mind; it had to encompass all <BR> Samsara and Nirvana, to expand into Infinity's Void. Such a mind <BR> could swallow the Pacific.<BR> Layman Pang stayed with Master Ma Zu until he discovered one day that <BR> he had no more to learn from him, either. On that particular <BR> occasion, Pang approached Ma Zu and, standing over him, said, & quot;An <BR> enlightened fellow asks you to look up:' Ma Zu deliberately looked <BR> straight down. Layman Pang sighed, & quot;How beautifully you play the <BR> stringless lute! & quot; <BR> At this point, Ma Zu had confirmed that there was no difference <BR> between human beings, that they were truly one and the same <BR> individual. As Pang had looked down, Ma Zu would look down. There was <BR> no one else to look up. But then, unaccountably, Ma Zu looked <BR> straight up and broke the spell, so to speak. So Layman Pang bowed <BR> low and remained in that obeisance of finality as Ma Zu rose and <BR> began to walk away. As the Master brushed past him, the Layman <BR> whispered, & quot;Bungled it, didn't you... trying to be clever. & quot; <BR> Layman Pang had attained mastery and every master he encountered <BR> acknowledged this. But what is evident to a master is not always <BR> evident to an ordinary monk. One winter day, while Pang was leaving <BR> the monastery of Master Yao Shan, some young monks, who were <BR> disdainful of his status as a mere layman, accompanied him to the <BR> front door. When Pang looked outside, he saw that it was <BR> snowing. & quot;Good snow! & quot; he said. & quot;The flakes do not fall elsewhere & quot; A <BR> monk named Quan, who was as impudent as he was stupid, completely <BR> missed the wit in Pang's remark. He mocked the Layman, asking <BR> sarcastically, & quot;Where did you expect the flakes to fall? & quot; <BR> Now, Pang was good naturedly complimenting the snow for not falling <BR> in the kitchen or the meditation hall, that is to say, for falling <BR> where snow was supposed to fall- in the courtyard and fields, on the <BR> trees and roads. Pang knew that he would have to walk a long distance <BR> in that bitterly cold snow, and he had accepted that fact without <BR> distress. <BR> But Pang not only had the wisdom of a master, he had the temper, too. <BR> When he saw the sneer on the young monk's face, he struck him. <BR> & quot;How dare you! & quot; said the monk & quot;And you're an ordained monk? & quot; asked <BR> Pang incredulously. & quot;Why, you'd be rejected at Hell's gates! & quot; <BR> & quot;Just what do you mean by that? & quot; demanded the monk. <BR> Pang struck him again. & quot;I mean that though you have eyes, ears and <BR> tongue, you're absolutely blind, deaf, and dumb. & quot; Then he calmly went <BR> out into the snow as if it were just so much sunshine. He had given <BR> the monk quite a lesson. <BR> But usually he was extremely kind and patient with those he <BR> instructed. <BR> <BR> One day, as he listened to a man who was trying to explain the <BR> Diamond Sutra, he noticed that the fellow was struggling with the <BR> meaning of a line that dealt with the nonexistence of the ego <BR> personality & quot;Perhaps I can help you, & quot; Pang said. & quot;Do you understand <BR> that that which is conditional and changing is not real and that <BR> which is unconditional and immutable is real? & quot; <BR> & quot;Yes, & quot; replied the commentator. <BR> & quot;Then is it not true that egos are conditional and changing, that no <BR> ego is the same from one minute to the next? Is it not true that with <BR> each passing minute, depending on circumstances and conditions, we <BR> acquire new information and new experiences just as we forget old <BR> information and experiences? <BR> & quot;Yes, & quot; added the commentator. <BR> & quot;But what is there about us that is unconditional and unchanging? <BR> asked Pang. <BR> & quot;Our common Buddha Nature! & quot; replied the commentator, suddenly <BR> smiling, suddenly understanding. & quot;That alone is real! The rest is <BR> mere illusion! & quot; He was so happy that he inspired Pang to write him a <BR> poem: <BR> & nbsp; Since there is neither ego nor personality<BR> & nbsp; Who is distant and who is close?<BR> & nbsp; Take my advice and quit talking about reality.<BR> & nbsp; Experience it directly, for yourself.<BR> & nbsp; The nature of the Diamond Wisdom<BR> & nbsp; Is truth in all its singular purity.<BR> & nbsp; Fictitious egos can't divide or soil it<BR> & nbsp; The expressions,<BR> & nbsp; & quot;I hear, & quot; & quot;I believe, & quot; & quot;I understand, & quot;<BR> & nbsp; Are simply expedient expressions<BR> & nbsp; Tools in the diamond-cutter's hands.<BR> & nbsp; When the work's done, he puts them down.<BR> <BR> Layman Pang and his daughter Ling Zhao traveled around China meeting <BR> their expenses by selling bamboo articles they made. They grew old <BR> together, becoming legends of enlightenment. Their last residence was <BR> a mountain cave. <BR> Pang knew that it was time for him to lay his burden down. He was <BR> very tired and could not go on. Inside the cave there was one <BR> particular rock that he always sat on when meditating; so he took his <BR> seat and, intending to pass away when the sun was directly overhead, <BR> he sent Ling Zhao outside to watch for the moment that noon had come. <BR> In a few minutes, however, Ling Zhao returned to the cave breathless <BR> with excitement & quot;Oh Father, & quot; she shouted, & quot;you must come outside and <BR> see this! There's been an eclipse of the sun! & quot; <BR> Well, this was an extraordinary occurrence if ever there was one. <BR> Pang could not resist having a look at it. So he rose from his <BR> meditation rock and went outside. He looked and looked but there was <BR> no eclipse. Noon had come, that was all. But where was Ling Zhao? <BR> Pang returned to the cave and found her dead, her body sitting <BR> upright on his meditation rock. & quot;Oh, that girl! & quot; cried Pang. & quot;She <BR> always was ahead of me:' <BR> He buried her and then, a week later, he, too, entered Nirvana. His <BR> body was cremated and the ashes scattered on the waters of a nearby <BR> lake. Half of the family was now gone.<BR> <BR> Word got back to his wife, who was living with their son. They were <BR> supporting themselves by farming. The wife said, & quot;Oh, that stupid old <BR> man and that foolish girl - they had to do that without letting me <BR> know. & quot; She went out into the fields and told the son, who was working <BR> the ground with a hoe. He made an exclamation, & quot;SSSSSAAAA! & quot; Then he <BR> stood for a while and died, standing up. <BR> The mother said, & quot;Oh, that idiot son of mine. & quot; Then she went around <BR> to take care of business, said good-bye to all her friends, and <BR> disappeared. There was never a trace of her again. <BR> <BR> <BR> <BR> LoveAlways,<BR> <BR> b<BR> <BR> </tt> <br> <!-- |**|begin egp html banner|**| --> <table border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2> <tr bgcolor=#FFFFCC> <td align=center><font size= " -1 " color=#003399><b> Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 1, 2002 Report Share Posted September 1, 2002 What a golden opportunity to do some serious witnessing. I'm very grateful for those periods in my life. Although, at the time they didn't feel that great. What a lucky guy you are! Pete --- ariel cathcart & lt;arielcathcart & gt; wrote: & gt; haven't read yet the new one yet but was thinking on & gt; the first poem ,as my mind slows down a bit & gt; sometimes & gt; ,especially after a wine with dinner but was & gt; thinking & gt; of my life style at the moment,no job no girlfriend & gt; very few friends ,that pissing shitting eating & gt; sleeping ,looks mighty good to me ariel --- & gt; hrtbeat7 & lt;hrtbeat7 & gt; wrote: & gt; & lt;HR & gt; & gt; & lt;html & gt; & lt;body & gt; Finance - Get real-time stock quotes http://finance. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 2, 2002 Report Share Posted September 2, 2002 hi pete, yeah i know,only timethat i question my lifestyle is when the doer part of me gives me a hard time , based on what i remember of the male role in society,but that didn't really work for me ,oh well back to the wall see ya ariel --- pete seesaw <seesaw1us wrote: <HR> <html><body> <tt> What a golden opportunity to do some serious<BR> witnessing. I'm very grateful for those periods in my<BR> life. Although, at the time they didn't feel that<BR> great.<BR> <BR> What a lucky guy you are! <BR> <BR> Pete<BR> --- ariel cathcart & amp;lt;arielcathcart & amp;gt;<BR> wrote:<BR> & amp;gt; haven't read yet the new one yet but was thinking<BR> on<BR> & amp;gt; the first poem ,as my mind slows down a bit<BR> & amp;gt; sometimes<BR> & amp;gt; ,especially after a wine with dinner but was<BR> & amp;gt; thinking<BR> & amp;gt; of my life style at the moment,no job no<BR> girlfriend<BR> & amp;gt; very few friends ,that pissing shitting eating<BR> & amp;gt; sleeping ,looks mighty good to me & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; ariel ---<BR> & amp;gt; hrtbeat7 & amp;lt;hrtbeat7 & amp;gt; wrote: <BR> & amp;gt; & amp;lt;HR & amp;gt;<BR> & amp;gt; & amp;lt;html & amp;gt; & amp;lt;body & amp;gt;<BR> <BR> <BR> <BR> <BR> Finance - Get real-time stock quotes<BR> <a href= " http://finance. " >http://finance.</a><BR> </tt> <br> <!-- |**|begin egp html banner|**| --> <table border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2> <tr bgcolor=#FFFFCC> <td align=center><font size= " -1 " color=#003399><b> Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 2, 2002 Report Share Posted September 2, 2002 Yeah, guy. Happiness is the sweetest poison. The deepest bog. There are no happy seekers. Are there? Best of luck, Pete --- ariel cathcart <arielcathcart wrote: > hi pete, yeah i know,only timethat i question my > lifestyle is when the doer part of me gives me a > hard > time , based on what i remember of the male role in > society,but that didn't really work for me ,oh well > back to the wall see ya ariel --- pete seesaw > <seesaw1us wrote: > <HR> > <html><body> > > > <tt> > What a golden opportunity to do some serious<BR> > witnessing. I'm very grateful for those periods in > my<BR> > life. Although, at the time they didn't feel > that<BR> > great.<BR> > <BR> > What a lucky guy you are! <BR> > <BR> > Pete<BR> > --- ariel cathcart > & amp;lt;arielcathcart & amp;gt;<BR> > wrote:<BR> > & amp;gt; haven't read yet the new one yet but was > thinking<BR> > on<BR> > & amp;gt; the first poem ,as my mind slows down a > bit<BR> > & amp;gt; sometimes<BR> > & amp;gt; ,especially after a wine with dinner but > was<BR> > & amp;gt; thinking<BR> > & amp;gt; of my life style at the moment,no job > no<BR> > girlfriend<BR> > & amp;gt; very few friends ,that pissing shitting > eating<BR> > & amp;gt; sleeping ,looks mighty good to > me & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; ariel ---<BR> > & amp;gt; hrtbeat7 & amp;lt;hrtbeat7 & amp;gt; > wrote: <BR> > & amp;gt; & amp;lt;HR & amp;gt;<BR> > & amp;gt; > & amp;lt;html & amp;gt; & amp;lt;body & amp;gt;<BR> > <BR> > <BR> > <BR> > <BR> > Finance - Get real-time stock quotes<BR> > <a > href= " http://finance. " >http://finance.</a><BR> > </tt> > > <br> > > <!-- |**|begin egp html banner|**| --> > > <table border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2> > <tr bgcolor=#FFFFCC> > <td align=center><font size= " -1 " > color=#003399><b> > Sponsor</b></font></td> > </tr> > <tr bgcolor=#FFFFFF> > <td align=center width=470><TABLE WIDTH=300 > HEIGHT=250 > border=0 cellpadding=0 cellspacing=0><tr><td > align=center><font face=arial > size=-2></font><br> > <TR> > <TD> > <a > href= " http://rd./M=212804.2303158.3720906.2225242/D=egroupweb/S=1705077\ 076:HM/A=810327/R=0/*http://geocities./ps/info?.refer=blrecs " > target=_top><IMG > SRC= " http://us.a1.yimg.com/us.yimg.com/a/ya/_geocities/lrec2b_1_01.jpg " > WIDTH=185 HEIGHT=250 BORDER=0></a></TR></TD> > <TD> > <a > href= " http://rd./M=212804.2303158.3720906.2225242/D=egroupweb/S=1705077\ 076:HM/A=810327/R=1/*http://geocities./ps/info?.refer=blrecs " > target=_top><IMG > SRC= " http://us.a1.yimg.com/us.yimg.com/a/ya/_geocities/lrec2b_2_02.gif " > WIDTH=115 HEIGHT=250 BORDER=0></TD> > </TR></a> > </TABLE></td> > </tr> > </table> > > <!-- |**|end egp html banner|**| --> > > > <br> > <tt> > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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