After listening to Guo Kai Fashi's talk yesterday, I was inspired to find some verse that I could read on the bus as a way of cultivating the vow power, as well as calming the mind. The only thing I could find on my bookshelf, besides Surangama Sutra (which is quite long) is a small copy of Upasika Chihmann's Two Buddhist Books in Mahayana. I found a very delightful verse in this quite used book, the Vows of Samantabhadra, which contains some very powerful words about the aspiration to practice and where it comes from. Of the ten vows (or tenfold paramita) that Smantabhadra mentions, I found quite a few relating to honoring the Tathagathas. In fact, first and foremost is "to pay the highest homage and veneration to all Buddhas." I find it interesting that the first three vows relate to homage and veneration, while the fourth relates to repentance of personal ills; fifth is to rejoice in other's merits (which parallels the veneration for Buddhas and Tathagathas); and the last three relate to following Dharma and requesting that Buddhas continue to be present to teach the I find that the sequence of the ten vows is quite vital to how it reads. While reading these passages, I found myself contemplating the vastness of Buddha's teachings and almost wanting to surrender my sense of ego attachment to this totality of what the Tathagathas are revealing to sentient beings.
Is it necessary to see the Buddhas as somehow portrayed as vast and infinite? In several passages of the vows, infinity and endlessness are evoked. We read about "the (infinite) merits and virtues of the Tathagatha" as being "ineffable" (p.5). As well, it is written that "in the smallest dust-motes of a ll the worlds of the ten quarters...there the Buddhas are dwelling equal in number to the smallest specks of dust in all the worlds." (p.7) What does this mean, I wonder? I think the boundlessness, for me, suggests the tireleness efforts of Buddhas and bodhisattvas. And how could it be otherwise--since the nature of mind is found in all things, even the very smallest dust motes. There is a sense that even if suffering endured for endless eons (as claimed in this passage), Samantabhadra would continue to hold his vow to make offerings to the Buddhas: "thought succeeding thought without interruption, in bodily, oral, and mental deeds without weariness." (p.9) In a sense, there can be no weariness as long as one realizes that the 'thoughts succeeding thoughts' are a function of the true mind. In this sense, there is no need to feel weary, as one does when climbing a steep mountain or trying to reach something that is barely attainable. The infinity is not just stretching outward into the sky but is also infinitely in the palm of one's hand, the tip of one's nose, and in the intimacy of one's very own embodied being. Is there any place where buddhas do not dwell? Samantabhadra, I believe, is challenging us to wonder as such. And if the mountain I am trying to climb is in every cell of my body, how can I ever be weary or exhausted? The climb becomes a joyful journey that is always spun out from the cloth of mind.
"Tiny" infinity is such a precious and marvelous trope in this passage, and it makes me want to study physics and chemistry again! Why do these two things evoke such a sense of wonder? It is perhaps a similar realization which struck Leewenhoek, the inventor of the microscope, when he discovered that there were living creatures thriving in a single drop of water. I think it was around that time that people started to imagine that this universe is not the only universe, and that 'universes' could extend downward, inward and outward into infinity. This 'without end' is not an exhausting travel from one continent to another by foot. It is discovering the very infinity of the everyday, and being enthralled with it. How much have we already travelled to get to where we are now? Do we ever think that, or are we only focused on our current goal, or destination?
This isn't to say that one should throw up one's hands and stop practicing a path. Rather, it is about rediscovering what is already present in different forms; seeing the nature of all beings in a single being.
The Two Buddhist Books in Mahayana (Translated and compiled by Upasika Chihmann),
No comments:
Post a Comment