turning into bodhisattvas

I ought not to turn back towards the past. My road always lies ahead of me.

“Thanks to you,” the Brahman said, “my eyes of crimson fire, my body of crimson fire and blood have at last found sleep. I could never have attained this purified body without you. Many, many thanks indeed.”

“Master, as I entered the flames, my body was filled with intense wellbeing!” Sudhana spoke in aew. Sacred bliss flowed from his penance. He no longer feared sword or fire. He knew that swords, fire, and evil spirits, too, were all love. All evil was Buddha. All fear was compassion.

“It is not possible to restrain what flows,” Prabhuta whispered in his dream. “You cannot restrain water, wind, or all the immensities of time. I couldn’t force you to stay here, even if I wanted to, just as I couldn’t command a bird to perch on a branch.”

“For me, things that stay in one place all part from me, as I flow on,” Sudhana replied. “If I decided to settle somewhere, everything else would flow away from me. There are people who live beneath trees that span a hundred and fifty generations, until the trunk rots into the ground, but that is not for me.”

“How could I ever experience unending bliss without undergoing the Eight Sufferings? Birth, age, disease, and death are the first four, of course. Then there are the last four: parting from what we love, meeting what we hate, failing to attain our aims, and all the ills of personality, the five skandhas. As I cut off my toes one by one I’m gaining my joy. You have to know that truth, don’t you?”

“Look! Fix your whole heart on the center of the empty air. See how all creatures become bodhisattvas in the empty air. Look! Look!”

[…] “Look, they are turning into bodhisattvas, then as bodhisattvas they are reborn and take on the sufferings of life again. It’s a life of greater suffering they take on now. There is no bodhisattva life without living creatures. Without sentient beings there can be no bodhisattva and no Buddha.”

“My path exists,” he thought, “even if no one tells me where it lies. I have to make my roads as I go. For me, every road is newly made.”



Ko Un, Little Pilgrim, Parallax Press, Berkley, 2005

drawing by Warwick Globe found at the marvelous blog Japonisme