Tuesday, May 10, 2016

131.366 - 2016 project and the Buddha

every day in 2016, write a sentence or a paragraph or a poem that appreciates

the Buddha

if he hadn't existed, we would have had to invent him.  that isn't quite the saying and it wasn't originally said about the Buddha, but it'll do and it does apply to the Buddha.  I mean, what a story!  a prince is born, maybe 600 years BCE.  Rome is about 150 years old, but is still a rude village of outlaws pretending to be the hub of the world.  China is still seven kingdoms.  India almost thinks it is the world.  It has kingdoms and princedoms and other doms and the Hindu religion and a prince is born.  maybe even nobody notices, really, except for his father the king, who sets about building an island in which the prince will be protected from disease and age and war.  whatever could he have been thinking?  wasn't the prince gonna have to succeed him and know about war and diplomacy and merchants and whatever else you need to know to govern?  but let's not mess with the story.  the prince grows up as untroubled as his rich and powerful father can protect him.  at the appropriate age, the king fetches a wife for the prince and indoctrinates her into the no disturbance rules.  the prince falls in love with his lovely wife and all is still well.  oops!  and then one day!  the prince rides his favorite horse, and somehow gets out the gates of his estate.  what?  he encounters a market, with rich people, poor people, regular folks, and people starving.  he encounters a place where doctors are treating people so sick that their relatives have brought them to this place.  he encounters a man so old he is dying as he greets the prince.  the prince is horrified.  he never knew the common condition of his fellow men, he never even knew he had fellow men!  he knows no word for this common condition, so he invents one, suffering.  dear gods!  (the Hindus had fifty thousand gods, I think.)  everyone except him suffers or is about to suffer!  he never knew!  what a world!  he rushes home and tries to explain to his wife but is too distraught for coherence.  he tears his clothes off and leaves the estate again, but this time on purpose.  he has to find an end to suffering!  for himself and for people everywhere.  he finds the wise men sitting beside the river and contemplating.  he contemplates too.  no!  this is not it!  for one thing, not everyone can do this!  someone has to farm, to soldier, to judge, to make peace.  he wanders off and has other adventures that teach him more about suffering and wrong solutions.  and then he sits under the bodhi tree.  he may have sat there seconds or centuries, he never knew afterwards, and the answer came to him.  the answer was so simple he could not help but smile and then laugh.  the answer was so disturbing that the gods sent an army to destroy him.  the answer was so profound and holy that the bodhi tree is preserved forever.  the answer was don't suffer.  but how could he teach that to other people?  they were convinced they did suffer.  and they did!  he tried to show them his simple idea, that all you had to do was not suffer, just accept what's so and do what you wish to change it, but know it doesn't matter, and it doesn't matter that it doesn't matter.  people tried their best to learn.  they wore clothes like the Buddha did, they walked like the Buddha did, they begged for food like the Buddha did, they did everything but learn his simple idea, don't suffer.  except a few did.  everywhere he went, a few did, and they spread it to other people.  a single man probably can't have gone all the places he is said to have traveled, sharing his simple truth, but his truth did spread.  all he ever wanted for you and for everyone is don't suffer.  whatever it is doesn't matter, and it doesn't matter that it doesn't matter.  don't suffer.  the Buddha.  as I appreciate him.

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