It seems to me that many people leave few traces in the world. A couple may spend a lot of time and money on their house and furnishings, and the next occupant sends everything to the recycling and remodels. An aircraft engineer spends months measuring out vibration loads in an aircraft, only to say, it’s ok. A Zen monk spends hours sitting zazen and then stands up and there is no trace.
On the forums too, there are things that are current, and then a long trail is left that few people look at again. It is all just footsteps in the sand, washed away by the next high tide. You can try as you like - make websites, write books, write blogs - it is all impermanent, and most things even vanish from view within our lifetimes.
So when we have an extraordinary experience, would you not feel that it should be passed on? I think that anyone who has an experience of this sort should become a kind of teacher for a while, passing the wisdom of his experience on to his tribe. Unfortunately in this day and age so few people truly listen.
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What separates one person from another.
Is there really anything that one does that isn't a communication of some form or another?
In a sense, we are all teachers and students of life's wonders...We are continually learning things from each other's experiences...
Which reminds me...
When the student is ready, the master will appear
When the student isn't ready, will the master still appear?
Like a dream, a mirage, a wave in the ocean or clouds in the sky.
We leave no traces because we are not that.
Take the aircraft engineer. You could say his labour contributes to the presence of passenger jet aircraft and airports. But many people have contributed: the Wright brothers, the inventor of the internal combustion engine, those who worked on electricity, the engineers who perfected the jet engine. An individual’s contribution is small, but together the many produce something big.
Even the work of the many is delicate though, it is kept in existence by the continued labour of new generations who learn the knowledge of the previous inventors and scientists. If we stopped creating new aircraft engineers at schools, soon those aircraft would only be hulking masses of rusting metal, and aircraft would again be a thing of the past. Thus the whole of science is a delicate skein of knowledge and skills, capable of vanishing as soon as fickle students turn away from it.
You say ‘we leave no trace because we are not that’ and that is true, nothing in the world truly leaves a trace, it is all impermanent. But perhaps seeking permanence is just the mind’s game, some part of the ego seeking to justify itself by saying ‘that is why I existed’.
In the end I think the answer to the ego’s query is love. If you do things from a core of love, it doesn’t matter if they persist or not, you have been on the path of life itself. The right use of mind and being is in the service of love, truth, beauty.
Exactly so. The enlightened are under no obligation to teach, talk or even be present where people feel they should congregate ...
It is as @how says all a ripple of interaction, influencing and also being influenced as @shoshin1 mentions.
For example:
To put it another way:
Do not teach, like the Buddha did before enlightenment. After enlightenment he tried to teach and ended up forming a religion tsk, tsk ...
What we do makes a difference now. We don't have to be world changers to make the world a better place for those we come in contact with.
I feel this a lot when I think about getting more seriously involved in spirituality such that I could possibly teach others. For me its more like, no one would really care about or welcome my perspective. In order to teach I'd have to fall in line and offer the approved discourse.
I have this too, although perhaps I am more into being a ‘spiritual friend’ than a teacher. I’m not really interested in offering the approved discourse of Buddhism or another stream, that seems like an unnecessary complication of what comes from the heart.
What I feel attracted to at the moment is satsang, “meeting in truth”. I’ve heard of some meetings here in the Netherlands where this is done sitting in a large circle, there is a ‘speaker’s stick’ that moves around and people in the circle ask questions of each other. So the people attending satsang are both questioners and speakers.
There you are on the far shore ... you start swimming back on a rescue mission. When you get back to samsara you find everyone is a teacher and you are in Nirvana, Still.
Where you going to swim to now? With the fishies?
Saint Anthony of Padua preaches to the fishes
Tee hee @Jeroen ... gonna sit outside and listen to the Sun
Hmm, there's something fishy going on here..
Even a simple life can inspire to devotion…
Even though I am mostly harmless and a failed vegan breatharian, constantly aspiring to live on moonbeams ...
I feel ahimsa to what ever degree we can manage, is a worthy goal.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ahimsa
Well… the Jain monks do take it rather far. They don’t eat after dark for fear of swallowing flying bugs, and carry a small brush of very fine wool as their only possession in order to be able to sweep the spot where they are just about to sit, so that they don’t crush any ants or small insects. They often wander around naked as well.
I feel it is good to signal our devotion, so that people can see what we consider important in our lives and inspire others.
“Once I was chastising Maharajji for giving photos to people who were worldly and didn’t care about him. He said, “You don’t understand me. If I tell a man he is a great bhakta (devotee), I am planting a seed. If a person already has the seed planted and growing, why should I plant another?” I said, “You are telling these drunkards, liars, and dacoits that they are real bhaktas. They will just go home and carry on their old behaviors.” Maharajji said, “Some of them will remember what I said of them, and it will make them want to develop this quality in themselves. If ten out of a hundred are inspired in this way, it is a very good thing.”
― Ram Dass, Miracle of Love: Stories about Neem Karoli Baba