The health that illuminates us from within,
nor the indisposition that threatens our bodies and spirits--
It is not permanent.
The jubilation that enraptures me as we are joined after such a long separation,
nor the ache I feel as I watch you leave again--
It is not permanent
The abundance we have and share with those we hold dear to us,
nor the dark shadow of wanting, it will pass--
It is not permanent.
This time of youth, seeing everything with fresh, rainy eyes,
nor the deep winter of age, the light of a well lived life dwindling--
It is not permanent.
* * * *
That day as I walked those agonizing four blocks, joints aching, gums pulsing in my mouth, I wondered if I was crazy. I was practically sleepwalking over the cobblestones all because a clerk in the grocery had told me to. " You must see the medicine mandala, tonight is the last night." I didn't even know this woman and my encounter with her was only long enough to pay for my Juicy Fruit. The Om Center seemed so far. Yet I found myself halfway there and not quite in my body.
I was welcomed by a woman with smiling perwinkle eyes- she glowed. " Are you here to see the sand mandala?" I answered her with a confused gaze. " The monks have been working on it for two weeks straight."
Truthfully I didn't know why I was there, it was as if I was delivered. I told her as much. She smiled as if she was not in the least bit surprised. She gestured toward the airy, cedar planked room that stood beyond us.
The smell of Nag Champa was heavy and clouded my vision at first. What I saw before me as the velvety incense cleared arrested my very being. I stood mesmerized by the chanting monks with the sweet slivered eyes. The youngest one, who looked no more than sixteen was all teeth and graceful, musical movements. He nodded at my arrival in this place.
They worked silently and side by side, their robes tied back with colorful silk ribbon. The clicking of the foreign wooden tools in rhythm with their chanting- "Om Mani Padme Hum," moved me closer to the workspace they shared.
Out of these tools trickled the falling technicolor sands, creating intricate healing designs. " A mandala for the universe," the young one said. It was adorned with birds and auspicious creatures in crimson and tangerine, emerald and vibrant blue. Gold stars embossed Tibetan words that I could not understand, all with precision and exactness.
My own inner well bubbled up; tears spilled down feverish cheeks. I was witnessing something bigger than me or my percieved problems or dis-ease. I stayed in that cocoon for what seemed like hours, only they were just moments stretched through my mind.
Periwinkle Girl whispered from behind, " Tonight they will sweep it all away- the sands will be dusted over the river and carried out into the universe." Wiping away the embarassed tears, I questioned her with confusion, " But it's so beautiful and they've worked so long and so hard, it's not permanent?" She answered me with kindess," Nothing is."
As she walked away I stood for a few moments more. I felt lighter, I felt a freedom. I had forgotten about the ills of my body. The symptoms and the diagnosis slipped away.
It is not permanent.
Nothing is.
That night I finally slept. |
Submission Name: Anicca
