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what is your story?
lobster
Crusty Veteran
In many traditions we learn by example stories. So the story goes and we are left in our own play. For example:
- am I the teller of my own being?
- who is the interruption?
- Are we a break from a perfect tale?
Vajrayana creates a story we enter, resonate and leave. Others have faith in a perfected wording/mantra. Some say the dream is not worth attending.
Once upon a time …
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Which K cup to select? "northern" pikes place ground.. or the Peppermint Mocha that unexpected was not sweet treat but rather flavored java beans.
It's like I keep losing the map to town and I gotta figure it out all over again. Every time I show up I'm covered in brambles with a goofy smile and a "hey guys!"
Seems more like the observer of it.
Delusion leading to ignorance laziness and fear.
I think the delusion is the tale. We are the break?
I guess because we follow by example, it makes sense that we try to identify with the charactors and their plights. The "moral to the story" makes it all the easier to want them to win.
I think if we finally see how we've been conditioned, it makes it easier to change the conditioned response to something more skillful. The less we act strictly according to how we've been conditioned, the more we can consciously decide how to play the game.
I have a sneaky feeling that we are all living a Jataka Tale.
We love our stories.
I had a whole series of dreams a few years ago that seemed to tell a story… it was about a race who were moving by spaceship from one planet to another one, it was very sci-fi.
I feel that is right @David.
In a sense we are following the Buddhas path, however we construct that identity. Conditioning will always be with us, perhaps in degrees of subtlety, to rebel against, refine, let go of, let be etc.
Stories 'r us.
Increasingly we can separate out the individual from their karmic wrapping.
It is this settled being that comes forward and we become sensitive to in others.
For the most part it's fiction, one of mystery & imagination, the plot changes moment to moment... It's a work in progress...
What do the stories we tell, tell us about us?
https://www.youtube.com/c/LikeStoriesofOld
If the self is not, who remains to play in the story, or indeed to tell the story?
Today’s story is to do with doctors, and poop. It’s not pretty. My elderly stepfather has been suffering from an obstructed bowel, which means he either can’t shit, or has to shit very urgently and produces liquid stuff. So yesterday my mother and him went to the GP who gave them a series of bottles to inject up his backside, which would cleanse out the large bowel. But my stepfather is understandably nervous about this and won’t allow my mother to administer set bottles. He wants a nurse to do it. So now we have to try and arrange a visit by a nurse, which is requiring a lot of phone calls.
Thus far the story…
Life is an enigma
You have a lifetime to work on it
But don't stress
You are here now
The poop story, episode 2. For those who were grounded by and perhaps also slightly alarmed by yesterdays episode. The neighborhood nurse came and injected the bottles, which led to several hours spent in the bathroom by my stepfather. Reliable reports reached me of several stone or clay-like lumps being passed, which were what had been obstructing the bowel. Strangely enough, after this my stepfather’s recall has been much improved, his memory is suddenly working again. Perhaps something to do with the gut-brain being relieved — did you know the body’s second largest accumulation of neurons is in the gut? Its about one-third as many neurons as are in your brain.
Will leave it at that.
My story has been as I suspect, very similar to many here. After being frustrated at again becoming lax on my path and in turn discontent and a bit nihilistic with things, I did an intense meditation this morning focusing on Green Tara. With a renewed sense of purpose I have rebuilt my altar, cleaned out my room, retaken my Bodhisattva Vows from my Green Tara Empowerment last year and kicked my own arse into gear.
We'll see how long I can sustain it. But given the pain I am feeling in my heart over world events, I am yearning to DO something useful and meaningful with my practise instead of lament and wring my hands uselessly each day.
Here's a weird freaky story:
One day, Jesus died, and while he was on the cross, his body briefly disappeared, and he entered into hell.
"Six thousand years" and "the sum of the number is in mine hands" are trivia. We'll deal with them later maybe, but suffice to say, they deal with an old first-century Palestinian legend that Elias and Enoch will appear six thousand years after they disappeared from this earth.
Compare with another freaky weird story:
how fantastical @Vimalajāti
Most of us go up and down through these elevator phantasms as @SuraShine mentions. If inspired, useful. Otherwise just Game of Thrones mysticism …
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Merkabah_mysticism
As I said to The Buddha only this morning, 'Where ya going buddy?'
May have just been talking to myself of course …