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Clinging

It hit me this morning that the core spirit of Buddhism is that there is no one, and no thing, to which you can reliably cling.  There is no one you can absolutely trust to save you, not even the Buddha.  There is no thing which will permanently make you feel better.

On some level, enlightenment is a very basic, primitive process, that of self calming.  Self calming is something all babies ideally learn to do, but which most I suspect never quite manage.  They need a mother.

But when we speak of inner peace, is this not what we are talking about?  Not getting upset by everything, and finding the courage to let go when we do?

I have had some griefs in recent days, and some mild betrayals.  I don’t like to speak of my outer life, and I won’t here, but I will say that I have been let down many, many times, in many, many ways, by many, many people.  For my part, I try to be loyal and true, but most people are much too preoccupied with their own worries to really register the lives of those around them.

As I ponder this, though, I feel that the logical response is not withdrawal and misanthropy, which are and long have been very natural to me.

What I feel is that with a mature spirit, you can be open to the gifts that God grants, without needing them.  This makes the good a delight, and the bad merely expected.  It is just life.

And I feel how ridiculous it would be to be mad at an apple tree which fails to bear fruit continually year round.  Apple trees are very generous with their fruit, but only at the proper time.  People are like this.  Practices are like this.  Ideas are even like this: understanding takes time to ripen and mature.

My life is not easy.  It is lonely, and I am beset daily with large confusions and strong emotions.

But something is ripening within me, something I chose, something good, and something large.