No one was more observant, aware and dynamically present than the Maharshi. He missed nothing. From the tremendous power of his inner stillness and outer simplicity, he was far more present and vitally alive than most could ever imagine.
Death is a daily experience but we may be unaware of that. We die and come back to our daily life again and again until we stop breathing and a whole new experience begins. There is no need to feel afraid of our death because she helps give meaning to life. No need to fight death because every moment we breathe is an opportunity to be better, to improve our lives.
Life as a nun is for some looked upon as a very bad destiny, as the poor soul must be just miserable living under such humble conditions, not having her own property, a partner, a close family, let alone a career and status! From the normal worldly outside perspective it is not at all attractive nor interesting. But they could not be more wrong.
In the midst of a happy life are we likely to stop and ask ourselves; what is this all about?’ But when sorrows blight our existence nothing is more natural than that we should step back and question our existence. We need not shun our mind or our emotions, because, in time, they can become our greatest motivators and our staunchest allies.
Most of the time people have a hard time giving away things to others which they themselves really like. Yes, we buy a present for someone and then we give that away. But something that you have bought for yourself often has more attachments to it and therefore is harder to give away. But in essence, it is just energy and energy needs to flow to be healthy.
Misapprehension of language only perpetuates our confused, dualistic perception of reality and thereby leads us away from the realization the single taste of reality. Contrary to this, when language is infused with skillful means, it becomes a vehicle for liberation.
Life is indeed dreamlike. So dreamlike that we often cruise through our days barely aware of what is really going on. Then suddenly someone we knew, someone we loved or hated or acknowledged at least, as existing, even if only on the fringes of our world is gone. They are no more; phoof!
I had heard the day before that Tulku Urgyen, a great Dzogchen master, would be offering a special long life empowerment to Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, a contemporary and also a great Dzogchen practitioner, who had not been well for some time.
Giving our attention to this huge unknown, which we call death can help us to open another door into the even greater mysterious cavern of, what we call, our life. Which in turn, can point us at last, towards the greatest of all mysteries; that of our awareness.
Writing is for another. Like talking, speech is for the other. May this white space surrogate for the natural appearance of thought, uncensored. In bygone years, mother’s vision took upon a likeness of ‘white space’. Her thoughts took flight. They were like wings of creative energy, expressed without pause, without censorship.