Postcard from Burma:
Li Pon in Burma – “Monks standing up to soldiers with their tanks, bullets, and fear. Monks, real monks, are fearless, because we embrace fear. Fear is seeing the bones of your own mortality. Fear is seeing the full insignificance of who and what you are: The dust of your bones swirling with the dust of the streets. Bullets will kill the flesh, but not the spirit. When you look into the eyes of the soldier who is going to kill you, fold your hands in prayer, bow to the Buddha that lives within him, and as he squeezes the trigger --breathe fully in knowing this is your last breath –in that moment – you’re free and fearless in blessing the soldier.”
Namaya in Vermont - “I could only imagine living my life with such spiritual integrity. I build too many of my domains on fear.”
Li Pon in Burma - “Fearless!”
Li Pon in Iraq- “Now, this is fear! The Buddha, ever present, seems like he’s taken a holiday. In every face there is fear, in the face of a child there is fear, in the American soldier there is terror and loneliness, in the Jihadist there is nihilism that is devoid of spirit, and this is a perfect place for me to sit and pray. I will sit by a bridge leading to Baghdad with three prayer flags: Love. Forgiveness. Redemption.”
Namaya in Vermont -“Autumn leaves are blowing in the new October wind: One of scarlet maple fire; a cluster of deep green leaves tinged with orange; and the last is a scrap of an old poem I burned on the fire that escaped incineration and is flying in the wind: Love. Forgiveness. Redemption.
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