I’ve been busy lately working, starting a new job, and doing physical therapy for my acute back strain, so my poor blog has been neglected. Also, being on muscle relaxers constantly for over a month takes a toll on my brain power. I’m finally beginning to taper down to lower doses, so hopefully my brain will be back to it’s normal functioning level soon. In the meantime, I bring you a lovely poem from Donald Lopez, Jr.’s book about Gendun Chopel.
The Emptiness of Your Own Mind
In general, all joys and sorrows that seem outside
Are magical creations of one’s mind alone;
Reflections from inside that appear outside,
Not things outside that have come near.
Knowing this well, when analysis
Severs the root of the basic mind,
You will abide in the true sky of reality
Beyond this fog of appearance.
This so-called existence is a fiction.
This so-called nonexistence is a fiction.
Untainted by all such fictions,
The nature of the mind is perfect buddhahood.
Thoughts of “is” and “is not” are like ripples in water;
They follow one after the other.
Dissolving easily into the aimless state,
They arrive at the ocean of the primordial sphere of reality.
Appearances are the magical display of the mind.
The mind is empty, without base, without foundation.
By holding baseless phenomena to be the self
You and I wander in the realm of samsara.
Without pursuing perceptions,
When you look directly at the perceiver itself,
You will see your own inexpressible face;
The path to achieve buddhahood is not far.
Through the blessings of the divine three foundations,
May you quickly find the emptiness of your own mind,
And from the kingdom of the ever-pure great perfection,
Bring about the great aims of boundless beings.
Suicidal Tulip 