Maandelijks archief: juni 2011

Dalai Lama over helder licht

Standaard

Uit een bespreking die door Zijne heiligheid de Dalai Lama werd gegeven van 11-14 oktober in 1991 te New York. De Weg van het Medeleven inleidend onderwijs in Kalachakra:

Vraag: Wanneer mensen horen spreken over helder licht dat daagt op het ogenblik van de dood vragen zij zich af waarom het helder licht wordt genoemd. Wat heeft dit te maken met het heldere licht zoals wij dat kennen?
Dalai Lama: “Ik denk niet dat in de term helder licht, het licht letterlijk genomen moet worden. Het is een metafoor. Het kan zijn wortels in onze terminologie, onze manier van uitdrukken hebben. Volgens Boeddhisme worden alle cognitieve gebeurtenissen van de geest of al het bewustzijn uitgedrukt in termen als duidelijkheid en helderheid. Vanuit dat standpunt is de keuze van de term ‘licht’ gemaakt. Helder licht is het subtielste niveau van de geest, dat als basis of bron kan worden gezien waaruit de eindelijke ervaring of de totstandbrenging van Boeddhaschap, de wijsheid van Boeddha kan voortkomen. Daarom wordt het helder licht genoemd. Heldere licht is een staat van de geest die slechts ten gevolge van bepaalde opeenvolgingen of stadia van ontbinding volledig duidelijk wordt, waar de geest van bepaalde soorten verduistering verstoken wordt, die opnieuw weer in de vorm van metaforen als gelijk de zon, de maan en duisternis worden uitgedrukt. Deze verwijzen naar de vroegere drie stadia van ontbinding die vanuit technisch oogpunt, met inbegrip van het helder lichtstadium, de vier leegtes genoemd worden. In het definitieve stadium van ontbinding is de geest totaal vrij van al deze factoren van verduistering. Daarom wordt het helder licht genoemd. Een soort licht. Het is ook mogelijk om het gebruik van de term helder licht in termen van de natuur van de geest zelf te begrijpen. De geest of het bewustzijn zijn fenomenen die geen enkele kwaliteit van belemmering kent. Het wordt niet-belemmerd.”

A lesson on forgiveness

Standaard

The Buddha was sitting under a tree talking to his disciples when a man came and spit on his face. He wiped it off, and he asked the man, “What next? What do you want to say next?” The man was a little puzzled because he himself never expected that when you spit on somebody’s face, he will ask, “What next?” He had no such experience in his past. He had insulted people and they had become angry and they had reacted. Or if they were cowards and weaklings, they had smiled, trying to bribe the man. But Buddha was like neither, he was not angry nor in any way offended, nor in any way cowardly. But just matter-of-factly he said, “What next?” There was no reaction on his part.

Buddha’s disciples became angry, they reacted. His closest disciple, Ananda, said, “This is too much, and we cannot tolerate it. He has to be punished for it. Otherwise everybody will start doing things like this.”

Buddha said, “You keep silent. He has not offended me, but you are offending me. He is new, a stranger. He must have heard from people something about me, that this man is an atheist, a dangerous man who is throwing people off their track, a revolutionary, a corrupter. And he may have formed some idea, a notion of me. He has not spit on me, he has spit on his notion. He has spit on his idea of me because he does not know me at all, so how can he spit on me?

“If you think on it deeply,” Buddha said, “he has spit on his own mind. I am not part of it, and I can see that this poor man must have something else to say because this is a way of saying something. Spitting is a way of saying something. There are moments when you feel that language is impotent: in deep love, in intense anger, in hate, in prayer. There are intense moments when language is impotent. Then you have to do something. When you are angry, intensely angry, you hit the person, you spit on him, you are saying something. I can understand him. He must have something more to say, that’s why I’m asking, “What next?”

The man was even more puzzled! And Buddha said to his disciples, “I am more offended by you because you know me, and you have lived for years with me, and still you react.”

Puzzled, confused, the man returned home. He could not sleep the whole night. When you see a Buddha, it is difficult, impossible to sleep again the way you used to sleep before. Again and again he was haunted by the experience. He could not explain it to himself, what had happened. He was trembling all over and perspiring. He had never come across such a man; he shattered his whole mind and his whole pattern, his whole past.

The next morning he was back there. He threw himself at Buddha’s feet. Buddha asked him again, “What next? This, too, is a way of saying something that cannot be said in language. When you come and touch my feet, you are saying something that cannot be said ordinarily, for which all words are a little narrow; it cannot be contained in them.” Buddha said, “Look, Ananda, this man is again here, he is saying something. This man is a man of deep emotions.”

The man looked at Buddha and said, “Forgive me for what I did yesterday.”

Buddha said, “Forgive? But I am not the same man to whom you did it. The Ganges goes on flowing, it is never the same Ganges again. Every man is a river. The man you spit upon is no longer here. I look just like him, but I am not the same, much has happened in these twenty-four hours! The river has flowed so much. So I cannot forgive you because I have no grudge against you.”

“And you also are new. I can see you are not the same man who came yesterday because that man was angry and he spit, whereas you are bowing at my feet, touching my feet. How can you be the same man? You are not the same man, so let us forget about it. Those two people, the man who spit and the man on whom he spit, both are no more. Come closer. Let us talk of something else.”

READ MORE AT: http://www.youaretrulyloved.com/enlightenment/the-buddha-teaches-a-…