My mother died more than five years ago. When I cleared out the house in Sebastopol I threw away lots of stuff. But I kept as much writing or handmade work as I could. I brought it back in boxes and crates to the house in Berkeley. There was really no place to put it all so it stacked up in corners.
Now that the upstairs renovation is done, Kent and I are trying to find places for all the things we really want to keep. And if we don’t really want to keep it? Move it on out into the world. This weekend Kent took boxes of books and clothes to Out of the Closet, an AIDS charity thrift store.
One pile gone, umpteen to go.
In her last years Mom found a friend in Thich Nhat Hanh, the Vietnamese Buddhist teacher. In going through a box just now I came across Old Path White Clouds: walking in the footsteps of the Buddha, a fat book of teachings and stories (legends?) about the Buddha. Mom marked pages 146 & 147 which give a thumbnail of the Buddha’s central teaching. “The Buddha began serenely … ‘The path I have discovered is the Middle Way, which avoids both extremes and has the capacity to lead one to understanding, liberation, and peace.’” (Mom’s emphasis)
On the inside back cover Mom’s handwriting notes, “Humility and open-mindedness are necessary for making progress.”
Then, dated 8/27/00 Sunday, Mom questions the preceding, “Where did I find? This statement is not complete. I’m sure that ‘progress’ refers to progress in understanding one’s self -- Not ‘progress’ in mechanical, non-feeling technology.’”
She adds two book recommendations. “Books I like – by David Darling Soul Search and Zen Physics.”
2 comments:
Interesting that she felt the need to distinguish between the types of progress. It seems self evident to me but I was never good actually discussing religion or philosophy with Mom. The few times I did she seemed surprised that I'd thought about meditation or spiritual growth or ...
Sigh.
I am curious about Mom's Buddhist turn. She would mention Thich Nhat Hanh and how she found his writing soothing and gentle. But we never quite talked about what she found helpful - Mom always had plenty of other things to talk about.
I thought I might read Old Path White Clouds when I brought it home from Mom's house. But I've sampled it here & there and it doesn't call to me. I might try Hanh's poetry. (I've got this little phrase that goes thru my head: "Thich Nhat, lest you be Hanh'd." Phonetically: "Tick not, lest you be honned." Pure silliness, of course.)
I think because of the poetry, then the yoga, that Mom assumed I was on a spiritual journey of some sort.
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