Happiness in the Heart -- Zen Series

Author: Nanbei
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2005-03-01
Features: There are no paths in the world that were not made by people walking them. There is no Guanyin who can save all suffering and difficulties; Guanyin is yourself. Happiness and joy should belong to those who have unwavering faith and understand the path before them. As long as we truly recognize the meaning of life and do not make the pursuit of fame and fortune the purpose of our lives, then happiness has already come to my side. No, it is in your heart. Then, you are someone who has been connected with happiness. When something happens, whether it is good or bad, no one can completely determine its exact meaning. Because every event has two sides. Just like the two sides of a coin, it does not matter which side is up or down, but rather what you see or what you choose to see. A simple process is a process of awakening. The greatest truth is simplicity, and a healthy life is one that is constantly simplified. Simplicity brings peace and joy, and isn’t joy the ultimate goal we pursue?
That was a Sunday afternoon, around 4 o’clock. The eyes that had been fixed on the computer screen were suddenly caught by a bright light. Looking up, I realized it was sunlight, golden and warm. Haha, the long week of overcast, damp, and cold days finally ended that evening, and the "dogs of Shu" could finally "bark at the sun" again. Almost at the same moment I saw the golden sunlight, a thought jumped into my mind: What would the monks of Zhaojue Temple look like in this rare sunset? Would they walk under the evening glow during the evening bell? As soon as this thought arose, I no longer had the heart to continue my "practice" in front of the computer. So, I turned off the computer, got dressed, and went outside. At the bus stop in front of the community gate, I hopped onto a bus heading to Zhaojue Temple to find the answer.
The bus wandered through familiar or unfamiliar streets, and I saw the faces of the people on the street, all flushed red by the setting sun. An hour later, I stood in a pavilion connecting the mountain gate and the Mahavira Hall of Zhaojue Temple. I like this temple—not because I have any special connection to it, but simply because I love its vastness and tranquility. Of course, what I like even more is its distance from the city edge—neither too close nor too far, offering both convenience and space for imagination. The sun was about to set but had not fully descended. Almost exactly as I imagined, I heard the evening bell and saw yellow-robed monks walking along the shaded path toward the Mahavira Hall, bathed in ten thousand shades of evening glow. In the pavilion next to me stood several devotees, all with their hands clasped in prayer, silently reciting their heart sutras. I saw an elderly monk walk over, and I greeted him with a smile. The old monk immediately replied, saying, "Namu Amida Butsu!" Faintly, I felt his voice was very familiar—like a friend, or like the father who passed away in my childhood. But I knew he was just a stranger, a monk. His Buddhist invocation was merely a response to my smile, a greeting to me. He was just saying, "Haha, you’re doing well too!" But this voice lingered with me, spreading through my home, seeping into my dreams and writing. I knew I was a person on a journey. All the questions that arose on this path would also be answered on this path. I couldn’t be someone who dedicates their life to endless study, and I would try my best to refuse to peddle common sense and words. I believe in a call and awakening from within. This awakening came from the physical and spiritual pains I had endured, from my longing and yearning for happiness and joy. I grew increasingly inclined to speak of joy and happiness, which should be related to the transformation within me.
From childhood, the years were filled with suffering, unavoidable. But precisely because of the suffering, I felt I had a reason and basis to speak of happiness and joy. It’s a bit like people digging for water in the desert. A person must confirm their role in their journey, and sometimes this can be quite difficult. Naturally, I began to confirm my role in this difficult situation. I took many paths that now seem unnecessary. But a person must walk in the direction of time—a one-way journey where every footprint behind you cannot be turned back to be decorated or modified. I began to seriously distinguish what sets me apart from others. I thought that what makes me different from others should be the land I can plant. I began to take a new path when poetry and reality were about to lead me to the brink. I started reading a Zen-inspired book called "Journey to the Buddhist Kingdom." In that book, first, I understood the close relationship between life and death. Second, I saw the eternal impermanence of things. Finally, I realized I had to convince myself to overcome useless cynicism and begin to record some of the goodness and beauty in my heart with my hands, sketching a random wave in my mind. In this regard, I feel I have almost succeeded. Because I know that Namu Amida Butsu is just a greeting.
Nanbei
December 21, 2004
Chengdu