A heightened level of diverse activity in my life of late has made for changed patterns of my daily doings. Like heavy rain swelling a river that then has its course altered or spills over its banks. I have not been able to hold to habitual ways and expectations, as everything is in flux.
Writing that, I instantly think, « Everything is always in flux! » And of course it is. Rivers are always gaining and losing water, always flowing, always draining and replenishing. Nonetheless, it is important to recognize that sometimes this flux is more or less than at other times. Flux is impermanent. Flux is relative.
At the moment, mine is a bigger flux than at other moments.
Circumstances have found me steeped more than « usual » in the passions of the workplace, the marketplace, the household. I think of a line from a Talking Heads song: « How did I get here? »
In an old book of Buddhist texts, I find these verses from a poem by a 2nd-century Mahayana poet, Matrceta:
Your compassion, given free rein, made you pass your time
Among the crowds, when the bliss of seclusion was so much more to your taste.
Someone said this, too, about the bodhisattva and his/her tireless, unconditional concern with the "predicament of his fellow beings:" he/she "gazes into the heart of darkness unflinchingly, with an intense fixity of purpose."
All I can say is that there is nothing else to do.
Matrceta verses
I don’t understand the Portuguese! Although I assume it’s a translation of the verses in my entry?
What is it that you don’t understand?
Sua compaixão, dado a rédea livre, fez você passar o seu tempo
Entre a multidão, quando a felicidade de reclusão foi muito mais a seu gosto.
I dont understand it!