‘If there be anywhere on earth a lover of God who is always kept safe,
I know nothing of it, for it was not shown to me. But this was shown;
that in falling and rising again we are always kept in that same
precious love……’ Julian of Norwich
I finally got my own copy of ‘The Mountains of Wales…an anthology of verse and prose compiled and edited by Ioan Bowen Rees’. He lived on the edge of my village and I came across this contribution by him……
‘Welsh-speaking streams’ - Langtang Himal hid the remainder of the main Himalayan chain. We were now aiming for its foot, most frequently along a trace of path scratched in the sides of the precipices, like the well known path around Foel Cynwych above Llanelltyd except that the river was up to eight thousand feet below. Soon the white silk of the great mountains melted into the wool of the clouds…..And at the edge of the mist, Welsh-speaking- streams raised hope that there was some lost Welsh tribe in Tibet as well as amongst the Red Indians.’
Milarepa meditated in cave retreats and sung endless Vajra Dohas in this area of Nepal. He frequently used nature as a metaphor in his teachings on mind. I sometimes spend time at night sitting in the rocky cairn on the summit of Moel Faban behind my house or sleeping on her flanks amidst the ancient bronze age burial sites…..it allways feels ‘safe’ however once I lay buried in my sleeping bag in the the snow when I heard heavy foot prints….something poked the bag….I leapt out only to find two curious frosty mountain ponies………….Many years ago I carved Om Mani Padme Hum on a summit rock and one full moon I spent the night there contemplating Milarepa and reading his songs. My dogs were allways with me and would remain alert all night, standing guard. That night they were very, very nervous, something was about……so we headed back home!! …..I should have stayed.
Since returning home from Nepal the pilgrimage has continued…………in reality I guess it never ends …..no goal, only the path. Things have been a bit grim, illness and significant deterioration in my kness, legs and now hips. To quote my doctor….”terry you are fucked!!!” Regular physiotherapy and loads of pain killers have not helped so I have been struggling a bit. At least the weather has been good and now I am back in the pool trying to regain some mobility….the seals are waiting!
At times like this we need support…………I keep a picture of brave smiling Choetar-la, resting on his crutch and stick by the stupa, on my table………it puts my grumblings and self pity into context. I have my walking poles, the mala blessed by Rinpoche on my last day at the stupa and a Milarepa statue blessed by Rinpoche that I bought in Patan……what more do I need !! In some strange way the pain I experience 24 hours a day is like a ‘protector’ …… a constant reminder that I should always be mindfull of my actions and the results that are generated (karma) ……….what were the causes of these obstacles? I can at least rejoice that those karmic threads are comming to fruition and ‘walk’ on.
The weather is wonderful….hot clear days as the garden struggles into bloom….unusual for april/early may in these parts. Few birds at the feeders though….I wonder if it is my new neighbours cat? No rats this year either, in the past I have live-trapped a dozen or more around the feeders. The neighbours want to poison them so I have a quiet word with them(the rats that is!) and release them safely in the quarry with a prayer. The garden is a sanctuary…watered from holy wells….stones from sacred places…prayer flags and the garden Buddha.
‘Valley dogs bay
Above Moel Faban
Full moon………’
Last night I grabbed my poles and hobbled through the gate onto the mountain and sat in the darkness bathing in the healing light of the moon. Venus, a shimmering point of light in the west…….the dim house lights of Tal Sarn where Ioan Bowen Rees lived in the valley below. The first sign of the moon a subtle change of light on the ridge behind my house then her silver body slowly edges into view…….she rises in all her glory and never fails to take my breath away…………
It is full moon……………that same moon that rises over Moel Faban behind my house will shine upon the stupa at Boudha and the cremation ghats of Pashupatinath. …In the still pool at Lumbini and the ancient rocks of Vulture Peak….On my son somewhere in Australia and my teacher in Sikhim…. On the clear-cut rain forests of Brazil and the broken bodies of my brothers and sisters in Baghdad….. Reflecting in the wide eyes of the Anglesey seals and the clear deep waters of Llyn Idwal…..on the rainbow scales of returning salmon as they seek to spawn in polluted rivers….the snow covered peaks of Langtang Himal and the ‘wesh speaking streams’…. in my tears of joy and sadness as I watch these myriad worlds unfold in the ‘misty crags and valleys of this world’……
At times like this when I go to the mountains or by the sea I sometimes read some words of inspiration such as these by Milarepa………………
I stare upward at the deep blue sky
I realise completely the empty nature of being;
Of palpable existence
No anxiety or fear have I.
When I look at the sun and moon
I realise their nakedness, the radiance of Mind-Essence;
Of distraction and drowsiness, no fear have I.
When I gaze at the top of the mountains,
I clearly realise the immutable Samadhi;
Of change and flow I have no fear.
When I look at the flowing river,
I fully realise the running nature of all flux;
Of the wrong view of Non-Cause, I have no fear or misgiving.
When I contemplate the rainbow-like (illusions of existance)
I clearly realise the indentity of form and voidness;
Of the nihilistic and realistic wrong views
I have no fear.
When I see the shadows of the moon-in-water,
I fully realise the self-radiance of Non-clinging;
Of subjective and objective thoughts I have no fear.
When I look inwardly to the self aware mind,
I clearly see the light of the inner lamp;
Of ignorant blindness, I have no fear.
How stupid it is to sin with recklessness
While the pure Dharma spread all around you,
How foolish to spend your life without meaning,
When so precious a human body is so rare a gift.
How ridiculous to cling to prison-like cities and remain there.
How laughable to fight and quarrel with your wives and relatives,
who do but visit you.
How senseless to cherish sweet and tender words
which are but empty echoes in a dream.
How silly to disregard ones life by fighting foes
who are but frail flowers.
How foolish it is when dying to torment oneself with
thoughts of family, which binds one to Maya’s mansion.
How stupid to stint on property and money,
which are a debt on loan from others.
How ridiculous it is to beautify and deck the body,
which is but a vessel of filth.
How silly to strain each nerve for wealth and goods,
and neglect the nectar of the inner teachings.
In a crowd of fools, the clever and sensible
Should practice the Dharma, as do I.
Milarepa
terry…..Full moon….Rachub….Wales
