He says he wants to know what I want done with my ashes knowing I want to be cremated.
I tell him I need to think about that for a while, knowing that “while” could be an ever shortening lifespan, but I dare not tell him that, it simply wouldn’t be acceptable he would respond, setting off another endless discussion.
I don’t say that time, in this rare instance, is on my side for truth be told I don’t care what he does with my ashes, I am gone and that’s that , bit a nice spot in the center of the mantle in the formal living room would be nice.
You really ought to pause and wonder just how different the world might be today if in that crucial moment things had gone in a wholly different direction.
A single moment can set the course for all of the moments that follow, a definite future plucked from an infinite array of possibilities.
I mean, of course, that moment when Mr. McGuire, in the guise of Walter Brooke turns to Benjamin Braddock, for what if he had said “I want to say just one word to you: Ecology” and when asked what he meant, he would add “There’s a great future in ecology. Think about it.”
Sitting atop a hundred foot pole you are convinced there are only two directions: pole and down. Old Osho asks, how will you proceed and you stare back at this lunatic. How will you proceed, he repeats?
You release the pole step slowly away, looking at ten directions before you, you move your feet, each one touches the path of each of the three worlds and Osho gently touching your elbow walks a bit by your side.
A reflection on case 46 of the Mumonkan (Gateless Gate) Koans.
Pause and consider why so many questions require you, you feel, to consult your watch, to call up a calendar, to appoint time. Time has no appointments, time is not an arrow, though we strive always to aim it, to send it flying in our desired direction. Time is a point in space, surrounded by all ten directions, going toward none of them. Ask why this moment is not enough, why you need the next though it does not exist. What are you trying to escape by searching for tomorrow, lingering in yesterday? Yesterday no longer exists, so why do you assume tomorrow does, and what of this moment, which exists only now, and what of the red leaf sitting in mid-air awaiting your awed attention?
A reflection on Case 6 of the Hekiganroku (Blue Cliff Record)
She imagined what it must be like to have wings. She always wanted to be unmoored from the ground, to be free of its incessant pull, to look down on it from high above, and not with aid of contraption, just her, arms outstretched. The ground was a prison. She could move about, yes, but never really free, that sixth direction always denied to her. The sea was as close as she could come to true freedom, the sandy bottom dropping away, but the water was an imperfect atmosphere. She finally found the courage and stepped free of the cliff, felt the wind beneath her, the earth below falling away and coming up under her. She flew on until the alarm clock ended her flight.
There is a reason – there must be a reason for everything, that is just how things are supposed to be, how we decree them. And when things are events, we are at liberty to tell them to comply with our direction. If they fail, then we consign them to miracles or the work of the devil, though we expect him to obey the rules as well, for otherwise he, too, would be a miracle and that would leave a Gordian knot we dare not try to unravel.
Take the pencil in hand and grasp it firmly and flex and extend your wrist until loose. On a clean sheet of paper mark a small X which will become of great importance shortly. Look around you in all directions, starting as close to yourself as possible and expanding out as far as the eye can see, noting the relative position of things that you see which might serve as points of reference. Now imagine you are looking down on this scene from high above, and draw what your eyes have seen. Once this is done, carefully write next to the X you have made, “I am here,” and then do not move lest your work was in vain.