I Feel More Buddhist When It Rains
Where does your mind go in a storm? The sudden surrender of the midday sun to Raijin’s drums and Fūjin’s furious winds. A purifying violence.
Nature’s Rorschach. Some see much-needed water for their land; others fearfully watch the riverbanks. Perhaps it’s a minor inconvenience – canceled football games and a stressful commute. Many think of nothing at all.
For me, it’s both a reprieve and a lesson. The suffocating heat is abated and my LASIK-damaged eyes can see without tears. The movement of the clouds across the sky, the countless drops of rain, the scent of fresh air – it speaks to me of stillness within chaos and the beauty of the ever-fleeting moment.
Existence on a knife’s edge; an ecstatic melancholy. I’m saddened at its passing, but grateful for the experience. Life in sum.
Writing this, my thoughts turn to the ongoing disaster in Nepal.
For the victims of the Nepal floods, I offer incense and recite the Nembutsu, dedicating whatever merit arises to their peace and to the relief of those still suffering.
Namu Amida Butsu.