Solid Rock
As I sit in my chair and gaze outwards, night gradually spreads her primordial fingers through the sky. There are noises outside. Tonight the neighbourhood crows have arrived, en masse it would seem. Through the veil of their raucous evening chatter, I hear the bangs, whether of explosions or fireworks it is hard to say. Sirens scream intermittently and helicopters whir heavily above.
Life is funny sometimes. A few days ago, I had been thinking to write of last week’s sudden announcements. The opening of houses of worship, general retail and the nascent release of restaurants and hair salons had brought a welcome feeling of normality. I had also been reminded of my visceral love for the man-made bonds of iron and steel which hold our sprawl of angels together; a drive over the freeway to Westwood on Saturday had seen to that.
However at home we now sit, under another night of city wide curfew. Outside, the ravening spectres of the disturbing emotions stalk the boulevards. With this latest development, arriving on the coattails of the past few months, it seems as though a vertical tunnel has opened up beneath us. Suddenly we realise that we had grown complacent; we had forgotton how deep the rabbit hole of human folly and suffering really goes. Many of the scenes which have played out across the towns and cities of America remind me of nothing so much as the words of Aeneas in Book 2 of Virgil’s Aeneid when he is describing the brutal sack of Troy, his homeland, to Dido the queen of Carthage. Overcome by fury, he has lost sight of his greater purpose and all those who depend upon him. He is intent on committing himself to the fray in order to exact revenge upon Helen, caring not if he dies in the process. ‘Out it flared, the fire inside my soul, my rage ablaze to avenge our fallen country- pay Helen back, crime for crime.’
However his mother, the goddess Venus, ‘her pure radiance shining down.. through the night’, comes to save Aeneas from himself and his rage. She sets him back upon his true course of care for others and preservation of a future for his terrorised people. In so doing she draws away the veil of his mortal vision and gives him a glimpse of the immortal deities, with their terrifying power and size, moving through the city streets participating in the death, mayhem and destruction. ‘And now they all come looming up before me, terrible shapes, the deadly foes of Troy, the gods gigantic in power’ Maybe we could all use a vision from Venus right about now to remind us that we carry the possibility of infinite rage and suffering within us if we do not seek to purify our minds.
It was with a sense of joy, relief and utter thankfulness that I saw my Lama’s message for the approaching Buddhist celebration of the Enlightenment and Parinirvana of Lord Buddha broadcast across all open channels of communication yesterday. It’s a message which speaks, with the uncompromising kindness we all so desperately need, of the ways in which we can mark this holy day with virtuous activity. It’s also a timely reminder of the fact that the answers to all of our problems are contained within the Buddha’s doctrine itself and that the only area in which we can bring about true change is our own heart.
‘So, on this day I pray that all partisan anger and hatred that we carry in our hearts be dissolved and that, as a consequence, we can live without fear and radiate compassion to all, without partiality.’ Lama Jampa Thaye
I am reminded of the last time that I saw my father. When he left us at the airport and his figure gradually faded into the crowded mass of travellers I was struck by the strongest feeling that taking such meetings and opportunities for granted is a fool’s game. If these months of strangeness and separation have served to fortify my devotion to the rock upon which everything in my life depends, then all is not lost.
‘Impermanence is everywhere, yet I still think things will last.
I have reached the gates of old age, yet I still pretend I am young.
Bless me and misguided beings like me,
That we may truly understand impermanence.’
Patrul Rinpoche, The Words of My Perfect Teacher
