This morning was incredibly beautiful, I was watching out of one window, some butterflies danced in the morning sun, all kinds of birds sang, fluttering around the trees and bushes, the puppy dogs played, a Kolibri like insect was sucking nectar from the blossoms. Too beautiful to be real, almost.
Natures soothing gift to me after seeing A.D.’s dog in the valley monastery yesterday at the funeral in pain and despair, suffering from the wounds that other dogs had caused him by biting him almost to death.
When I came ‘home’ to the beauty of Kun Pang, after the funeral and an unsuccessful visa run, I saw that Masher Muffinsson, one of the monastery dogs, had large wounds on his back. Instantly I thought it would be burns and after some investigation with the help of our helper, it was clear that someone of the villagers not to be mentioned had thrown boiling water on the poor dog while I am away.
I thought I have so much compassion for these dogs and am suffering with them. But this morning, seeing all the beauty deceiving me, deluding my mind, I found that what I think is compassion and empathy is in rooted in anger. The anger that I cant do anything, can’t ease the pain, anger that others don’t help, anger that there is suffering as a natural fact. Still it is compassion we would say, though it is at a very worldly level, drenched by defilements and not by wisdom.
Here I sit now, wondering how ultimate compassion would be like, would feel like, longing for it. Often an image or a thought of the Buddha is in my mind and it is a joy, an example, idol, ease, refuge, today it is shining, far far away like the moon.
When I was a child, once I fell by rocking on a chair which was not a rocking chair. My mother had told me many times that I shall not do it – but what can I say, I was not the most obedient child and enjoied rocking a non-rocking chair. Though not injured gravely, I had a lot of pain and cried. At that time my mum had a woman helping her cleaning the house. This cleaning woman was near me and she rushed by and took me in her arms and said: ‘Alles wird gut.’ ‘Everything will be fine.’ My mum, although commonly a warm hearted person, was in the kitchen and from there scolded me for doing what I was not allowed to (she must have used her supernatural mum powers, how else could she have known that I was doing something I was not allowed to do) and told me to stop crying and bear the consequences of my wrong doing.
Both, the having to bear the consequence of wrongdoing and the warmth of a compassionate hug when suffering is since then deep engraved in the mind and part of the (unintended) Buddhist teaching which I received (unknowing) in childhood. This ‘alles wird gut’ was for a long time a goal, like the holy gral, the happy end, something that I wished for. Now I know that it is the third noble truth and Nibbana the only possible happy end. No beauty, no birds and lullabies can give real peace, really.
So, beauty of the external world, deceive me not, delude me no longer!
(Yes, I know, it is not the beauties fault but my delusion that keeps me in the trap. 🙂
Report, a few days later: when I went down I could arrange that a friend collected some money and arrange for the dog to see the veterinarian. I heard that he is well now, being fed everyday getting medical treatment and fitting in in the community of dogs at the monastery where he now stayes. Masher’s wounds are healing very well. He happily accepted a wooden box covered with mosquitonet as refuge for his healing process. There the flies, mosquitoes and large wasps which were always around his open wounds could not reach him. So, that is all good. 🙂