Indra's Net

I’ve always liked the Buddhist story of Indra’s net. Here’s a short version by Francis H. Cook from his book, Hua-Yen Buddhism: The Jewel Net of Indra.

Far away in the heavenly abode of the great god Indra, there is a wonderful net which has been hung by some cunning artificer in such a manner that it stretches out infinitely in all directions. In accordance with the extravagant tastes of deities, the artificer has hung a single glittering jewel in each "eye" of the net, and since the net itself is infinite in dimension, the jewels are infinite in number. There hang the jewels, glittering like stars in the first magnitude, a wonderful sight to behold. If we now arbitrarily select one of these jewels for inspection and look closely at it, we will discover that in its polished surface there are reflected all the other jewels in the net, infinite in number. Not only that, but each of the jewels reflected in this one jewel is also reflecting all the other jewels, so that there is an infinite reflecting process occurring.

Not long ago, I realized what a brilliant illustration of interconnectedness this is. I’d known about the metaphor for years and had some intellectual understanding of it. But thinking about it recently, I felt the reality of it like an electric shock that shook me from the top of my head right down to my toes. Every action, every thought we have changes the world; subtly no doubt, but certainly nonetheless. Changes not just our world, but the world. It can’t be other than that. Yikes!

The Garden of Eden

I like this poem a lot:

Paradise is not a place
where we are going.
It is a place
where we are from.
We can go there
at any time.
It is our beliefs
that lock us in our hell.

It is the sacredness of this moment
that is the key to freedom.

~John Squadra
from This Ecstasy

Heroes

Yesterday I read an article about Shoji Hamada, a real hero for me and many potters interested in the Mingei tradition. The article spent some time detailing how he worked, how he got his start in pottery, even what he wore.

I read the article carefully because my tendency is to try to emulate the people I admire. I actually considered wearing a samue for work, just like Shoji. I wondered again what it would be like to have his mindset, his attitude, his lifestyle. Yet, I know exactly what it would be like. Just like it is now.

Not that I think I’m anything special, just the opposite really. I can imagine how it would feel to be a living legend as Hamada certainly was. I can make up stories for myself of how I’d think, how I’d spend my day, what I’d say to my friends and colleagues, but I know that if I really were that person I’d feel exactly as I feel today. I’d spend my days just as I spend them and say the things I say. It would be nothing special.

I don’t think we can really live out our stories. We have to live in the real world as ourselves, doing what we do. And no matter how remarkable we may be, to ourselves we’re just us, living everyday the way we live it. Nothing special.

Tangle

This painting by Tiffany Liu does a nice job of illustrating the problem with my brain. Knotted, tangled, convoluted ideas upon ideas, upon more ideas. Some of them old, rotting and gathering flies.

The tangle as a whole is an object of my own making. New ideas are added daily and quickly find their way into the tangle that is . . . well, me. My job, as a person who spends some time trying to see things the way they actually are, is to sort through the mess, untangle the ideas, painstakingly, one at a time.

Once a thread is separated from the tangled mess, I aim to look at it, consider its relevance in the here and now, discard those ideas that don’t pass the test and keep the relevant ones from again becoming part of the tangle. It’s going to take some time . . .