-Deepak Chopra
Okay...so I let her rip yesterday with a lot of detail about my own suffering. That was just the tip of it. I have a lot to let go of. I could keep a person reading for days if I wanted to lol but that is not why I am here or why I relayed that. Yes, I want to understand and heal from my own dukkha but I also want to help others understand and heal from theirs. It is an interdependent thing because we are, according to Buddhist and other religious/spiritual doctrine...inter beings.
I know I also have a lot of dharma teachings whirling around my head from the mouths and written words of the world's greatest dharma teachers. I am in no position to interpret or 'teach' in this capacity. Do you know how long it takes for a Buddhist monk to become a teacher? The years of practice, reflection, meditation, retreats, isolation, sharing, devotion to the sangha etc that is required? I am far, far, far from owning the distinction of dharma teacher! I am just a silly little lay person getting something powerful from the teachings I haphazardly encounter and who has a desire to share that learning. That's all.
Anyway, back to the topic of letting go. I am reminded of this story or parable that I believe the Buddha told to his disciples on the process of letting go. I think it relates to most of our experiences of resisting healing.
A Little Bag of Ashes
There was once a business man who lived in a small village with his five year old son. He loved his son more than anything and worked hard to give him all the material comforts of life. Being a widower he often had to leave the little boy alone at home so he could travel away for business. On one such trip, pirates invaded the village and burnt many of the houses down, kidnapping young boys to use as slaves. His house was targeted and his son was captured and taken away.
When the man returned home he was shocked and stunned. He ran around the remnant of his once fine home in search of his son. He found the burnt remains of a small body about the size of a five year old boy on the road in front of his house. He immediately assumed that that boy was his son. He fell to his knees and rocked back and forth in intense grief over this immense loss.
Later he had the body cremated, as was the custom, and he took some of the ashes, placed them in a small beautiful velvet bag and kept those ashes close to his heart at all times. He couldn't bear to be without them. They became his most precious possession. He continued to grieve for months as he stroked the velvet bag and thought of his great loss. He was able to repair his house with the riches he had earned, but he was not able to repair his heart.
One day the boy was able to escape from those who had enslaved him and he made his way back home.
It was late when he arrived and the man was asleep in bed tossing and turning between fitful dreams about his son and his tragic loss. When he heard the knock on the door, he jumped up out of bed and said fearfully, "Who's there?" He clung tightly to the little velvet bag to help ease his fear.
"It's me Father," the little voice replied. "I am home."
The man became even more afraid, clutching the bag tighter in his trembling hand. "Is this some kind of a cruel joke? My boy is dead. I hold what is left of him close to my heart as I speak."
"No Father...it is not a joke. It is me. I have returned. Please let me in."
The man refused to open the door, clutching the little bag of ashes as tight as he could. "No! I will not let you in. Leave at once and never return. Let me be alone with my grief...it is all I have left."
The little boy tried for hours and hours to convince his father, until finally, exhausted from his months of torture and enslavement, gave up. He did not know what else to do. He turned away and left the village, never to return.
His father continued to cling to the little bag of ashes that sat close to a heart that never truly mended.
What Does it Mean?
Okay...that was my version lol. What this parable relays is: when we cling to ideas, wrong views that keep us locked in chains of sorrow and misery, we may become so attached to those mental chains that we refuse to see the truth when it comes knocking at our doors. Does the truth scare you and do you cling to your ideologies even tighter when you hear it at the door of your Life? That truth could end all the suffering generated by an illusion or false belief. ...if we open up to it.
What are you carrying in your little bag of ashes? How much pain are you clinging to? Are the ideas that generate such suffering in you based on truth? Would you not be better off, putting them down and opening the door to see that there was no need to grieve in the first place? To see that the only thing that was leading to the suffering was actually an idea you clung to of something that wasn't true?
Just saying. Just asking. Just learning. :)
All is well in my world.
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