Extraordinary Now*

Think, speak and act, then,
 always in the eternal now
 with compassion and understanding
for your own enlightenment 
and for the enlightenment of all sentient beings.

Rev. Kenryu Tsuji, “Eternal Now” from The Heart of the Buddha-Dharma, pp. 73-74

April-May 2012

Isn’t it amazing how our lives are woven together? We never know who we will meet, or where, or when we might perhaps meet again. It is difficult to gauge the effect or the potentiality of a passing encounter, or the way in which it might resonate in our lives years later under entirely different circumstances.

Back in 1983, while I was living in Quito, Ecuador, I decided to take a course in Latin American literature at the local university. Gabriel García Márquez had just received a Nobel Prize for his writing, and it was wonderful to study his work in the original language. He is known for a literary style known as magical realism, which blurs the distinction between fantasy and reality and is characterized by an equal acceptance of the ordinary and the extraordinary. It is often used to explore the character of human existence, and especially the realities of those who are outside of the “objective mainstream.” Does this mean that the mainstream actually has a handle on true reality?

To be honest, I no longer recall much about the course. What I do remember are the coffee breaks I took with some of my expatriate classmates. One particular conversation is still very clear in my mind, though I’m not even sure why. As always, the four of us were relaxing and enjoying each other’s company, communicating in the common language of Spanish. There were two men—one Russian and one American, and a woman from Afghanistan besides myself. The three of them were explaining to me, a Canadian, about the war in Afghanistan, each from his or her personal point of view. At the time, Russia was occupying the country, and the United States was supporting the Mujahideen resistance there. The two men were polite but ardent in defending their respective governments’ actions. However, after listening quietly for a time, the woman gently said that her country should best be left to resolve its own affairs. There was a wistful silence but no sense of animosity or disagreement. The wordless pause brought us back together as one, I suppose, for we remained close throughout the semester, gradually to drift away to our various pursuits. Did our reality in that moment, as four friends sitting tranquilly over coffee, trump geopolitical dictates?

Much has changed since that time, both globally and personally. I had forgotten about that fragment of my past until today, listening to the latest news about American troops in Afghanistan. I wonder about my classmates, as I recall the sincere sense of well-being we shared with each other. In retrospect, I am grateful for that awakening moment, when the ordinary occurrence of a coffee break was really quite extraordinary. Since we parted, many lives have been touched by each of us. Is it fantasy to think that the extraordinary could become the ordinary, that there is a possibility for all beings to be happy and well, and that someday we might all attain perfect peace and harmony? May each of us live in grateful awareness of our intertwined karmic conditions and reflect upon Rev. Kenryu Tusji’s exhortation, knowing that our thoughts, words and deeds touch the infinite.

Gassho,

Rev. P. Usuki

* Revised from “May Peace Spring Eternal” in Annon: Peace and Tranquility, 2009, Southern District Ministers’ Association.

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Wash Your Hands

This year got off to a memorable start for my husband and me. Or rather, 2011 ended on a “sour” note following our respective New Year’s Eve services, for we were both stricken with a mysterious stomach ailment that prevented us from making it to our temples the next morning for New Year’s Day services. It later turned out that a couple of other ministers, as well as a number of laypersons, had also fallen victim to the same illness on the same night. Fortunately, the symptoms only lasted for one or two days but the provenance still remains an enigma. A few days previously, the others had attended a gathering together. Whether it was the food (my husband brought some of the delicious feast home) or something transmitted in the air, we’ll never know.

Fortunately, it wasn’t like the movie, “Contagion,” that appeared a while ago, involving a global epidemic in which experts race to find a vaccine to counter a hitherto unknown deadly airborne disease. In a retrospective seg­ment, the movie shows that [spoiler alert] some trees had been cut down, dislodging an infected bat who grabbed a piece of banana, then dropped it into a pig’s pen. The pig then ate it, virus and all. Next, the same pig was being pre­pared for a banquet. The chef then shakes hands with Beth (Gwyneth Paltrow), transferring the inter-species virus to her and continuing a chain of events that branch everywhere.

All kinds of things can spread from one to another, not all of them challenging. Recently, a noted pianist, Alexis Weissenberg, who studied at Juilliard and played with Leonard Bernstein and Herbert von Karajan, passed away. As a young child, he and his mother were enabled to escape from a concentration camp by a German guard who enjoyed listening to the talented boy play Schubert on an old accordion. The karmic conditions of the guard’s appreciation of music and hearing this particular boy thus enabled millions of others to later encounter the virtuoso music and its accompanying benefits, multiplied infinitely into the future in different permutations. At great risk to himself, the guard was brought to do something that would benefit countless unknown others all over the world.

In neither case could anyone foresee the far-reaching consequences of their interactions. Whether we intend to do good or not does not necessarily compute with the reality of what happens in the grand scheme of life of which we are each a tiny but always significant part. The Golden Chain says, “I will try to think pure and beautiful thoughts, to say pure and beautiful words, and to do pure and beautiful deeds, knowing that on what I do now depends not only my happiness or unhappiness, but also that of others.” We remind ourselves all the time but in the next instant, our unskill­ful self emerges. Regardless, in one way or another we are always affecting others, and most of the time we aren’t even aware of whom, or how, or why, and we cannot control everything. Yet just as we are, inconceivable Compassion wraps its tendrils around us like a comforting aroma, seeping into our pores like a warm bath, resonating within like a soothing sound. What comforts you, and where did it come from? If you reflect deeply, you can begin to understand that you cannot trace it to a starting point; that it is the coming together of an unfathomable multitude of beings and events in past, present, and future. In infinite Wisdom, we find the Oneness of all life.

It’s important to pay attention to our thoughts, words, and deeds, and catch a glimpse of our true, imperfect selves. It’s also important to realize that for all the truth-reality we think we see, there’s so much more that is far beyond our ken. On the other hand, how easy it should be to notice the Great Compassion that enfolds us at all times whether in a warm word, unexpected and undeserved, or in the gentle blossom that flutters past to break the hardness of a stressful day. What comforts you to the point of gratitude? Even having the ears to hear, the eyes to see, or the heart to feel …

Be mindful of your connection with all beings and do what you can to mitigate harm. Wash your hands and stay home if you’re ill. Be kind to others. Above all, relax and rejoice in life, expressing gratitude for the Infinite Wisdom and Compassion that embraces us always, just as we are. Namo Amida Butsu.

In gassho,

Rev. P. Usuki

My life is fleeting and finite and I do not know with certitude what tomorrow has in store for me. But in the transitory boundaries of my existence is the timeless flow of Amida’s life. In the finite sound of my Nembutsu is Amida’s voice of Compassion, tirelessly calling me. Like a small stream that enters the mighty current of the great river, so does my insignificant life, in the Nembutsu, join the majestic flow of Amida’s Infinite Life. Namo Amida Butsu ~ Kenryu T. Tsuji, The Heart of the Buddha-dharma, p.77

Recently, it was reported that a giant sequoia came crashing down across a popular walking path in the Sierra Nevada. Fortunately, nobody was injured and a tourist even managed to take a video of the event as it happened. The tree was over three hundred feet tall and seventeen feet in diameter at its base. Moreover, it was determined that it was some 1500 years old! Apparently such trees can actually live for about 4,000 years and not surprisingly, have the greatest mass of any living organism on earth.

A call has been put out for ideas as to what to do with the tree. Should the path now go under it, over it, around it, or through it? Someone suggested cutting up the tree, but the best solution seems to be to leave it just as it is, in its natural state. When you think of all the years that it stood quietly and majestically in the forest, not bothering anyone, but instead providing shelter, shade, and perhaps even food for other living beings, why should it not go on serving its natural course as part of an ecological system? Perhaps people will be brought to reflect upon imperma­nence and change; about their own place in this vast universe and how all beings, past, present, and future are linked together; and about the natural beauty that all beings emanate just as they truly are.

As I write this, a huge Norway spruce is being readied to be trucked to the Rockefeller Center in New York City for the holiday season. It is to be festooned with five miles of wire bearing 30,000 LED lights, and topped with a Swarovski crystal star. Similarly, a Sierra white fir from the Stanislaus National Forest is being shipped across the country to the Capitol. People will be awed by the superimposed simulation of beauty that matches so much of our artificially enhanced lives. Consider, though, the mystery of a single, unique snowflake that glistens with a billion others, no two exactly alike. Imagine snow-covered pines on a moonlit night. There’s no comparison.

Somewhere away from the hustle and bustle of the holiday season, noble “ever-“greens live with all their might, just as they are in each moment, until the endless flow of time and existence calls them to lie down. Even then, they inspire awe for the wonder of infinite, interdependent life. Shantideva, an Indian Buddhist scholar of the 8^th century, observed in a famous poem, “The trees do not speak harsh words, nor do they try to please by artifice.” They are magnificent, just as they are.

May each of us hear the calling voice of the Infinite resounding within us and, mindful of our indebtedness to all life, let us truly live each day with all our hearts. On the spectrum of longevity, we are somewhere between the giant sequoia and the diamond glint of a snowflake and we cannot know with certitude what awaits us in the blink of an eye. But we can be beautiful simply by being who we truly are, without artifice. That is all that counts in the timeless flow of Great Life. Thank you for everything and best wishes today and everyday. Namo Amida Butsu.

Gassho,

Rev. P. Usuki