Ultimate reality 2: life and death
Mar. 18th, 2025 06:37 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mickiYesterday I was too freaked out by dreaming about my parents' death to cope with the other part of the last chapter of Thich Nhat Hanh, but today I am centered more on my own pain (seemed to have pulled a muscle in my arm while vacuuming) so ironically I can confront some of the content of this better. In talking about the wave and the water, he spends a lot of time on life and death. It talks about the grief when your mother dies, but that is in the historical dimension. In the ultimate dimension there is no birth and no death. "Nagarjuna days that something already present cannot be born. To be born means from nothing, you become somethingl from no one you become someone. But nothing can be born from nothing. A flower is born from soil, minerals, seeds, sunshine, rain, and many other things. Meditation reveals to us the no-birth of all things. Life is a continuation. Instead of singing "Happy Birthday" we can sing "Happy Continuation." Even the day of our mother's death is a day of continuation; she continues in many other forms.
He tells the story of a friend whose mom is dying, speaking to her of how her body is larger than the one dying--she's in her children and grandchildren, in the people she taught to cook, write poetry, and sing, and that those people will continue in them. He goes on to say that a being may pretend to be born and then pretend to die, but this is like a game of hide and seek. "Your mother is also playing a game. She pretended to be born as your mother, she played the role of mother so well, and then she pretended not to be there in order to help you grow up." Everything is pretending to be born and pretending to die. "If you know how to touch your mother in the ultimate dimension she will always be there with you. If you touch your hand, your face or your hair, and look deeply, you can see that she is there in you, smiling. This is deep practice, and it is also the deepest kind of relief."
He tells the story of a friend whose mom is dying, speaking to her of how her body is larger than the one dying--she's in her children and grandchildren, in the people she taught to cook, write poetry, and sing, and that those people will continue in them. He goes on to say that a being may pretend to be born and then pretend to die, but this is like a game of hide and seek. "Your mother is also playing a game. She pretended to be born as your mother, she played the role of mother so well, and then she pretended not to be there in order to help you grow up." Everything is pretending to be born and pretending to die. "If you know how to touch your mother in the ultimate dimension she will always be there with you. If you touch your hand, your face or your hair, and look deeply, you can see that she is there in you, smiling. This is deep practice, and it is also the deepest kind of relief."
