- Book 146 The Lonely Bird in the Sky
- Written by Living Buddha Lian-sheng, Sheng-yen Lu
- Chapter 1: The Scars of Love
- Translated by Vajra Root
- Edited by Darrell McLaughlin
- Proofread by Mimosa
- Padmakumara Translation Team
- Website: http://www.padmakumara.org/
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Chapter 1: The Scars of Love
An author once wrote :
There was a young couple who fell deeply in love. Their romantic
relationship had its good times as well as bad, yet they ended up
separated by the obstacles of time and distance.
Then, fifty years later, when he was seventy years old and she
was sixty-something, he happened by chance to learn her present
address and phone number.
This brought intoxicatingly sweet remembrance of "way back
when', so he contacted her and they talked. "I am yours."
"You are mine." These were the things they used to say
to each other in the old days. The soft voice on the other end of
the line reminded him of the "love castle" they had once
shared.
So, they set a time to meet, at a place where they had met fifty
years before, a stone bench in a certain park. That was the place
where they always used to go and wait faithfully, and the first
to arrive would never leave without the other.
Soon the day of their meeting arrived. The old man intentionally
arrived early, in order to give her a surprise. He knew that she
was always exactly on time, something she never changed. As he hid
behind a tree, he thought about fifty years before, and his thoughts
were filled with beautiful images of her. He remembered her short
straight student hairstyle, her innocent and graceful face, and
her sparkling eyes that always seemed to speak to him. He recollected
her petite and delicate figure, and simple and refreshing attire.
Every day, he just wanted to enfold her softly in his wings.
Finally, she arrived, and when he saw her he was shocked. A stooped
old woman with a cane tottered toward him. Her head was covered
with silvery hair, and her face was covered with wrinkles. A mismatched
dark green top and black trousers were wrapped around her swollen
body.
He could not bear to look anymore, so he turned and left quickly,
dropping the bunch of fresh flowers he had brought. His dream had
been shattered He thought to himself, "I just cannot face her
yellow teeth."
At the end, the author asked the readers, "What is love?"
I have thought about this also. I know that, in this world, the
most difficult thing to explain is love.
I admit that I had many loves when I was young, and with all these
loves and romances, there were also many scars. I laughed, I cried
like a person gone insane. This is love.
Sometimes, a solid castle of love can be easily tumbled by only
a couple of words. A woman can be in love one minute, then the next
minute she would kill you. A woman can be deeply in love with you
today, but tomorrow is dating somebody else.
In the world of love, when two are together, it is the peak of
the love relationship. When the two separate, crossing swords, it
is the abyss of suffering. Love is beautiful. Love is also horrible.
Often, the loving heart is torn apart. Your heart feels not just
as if it is being cut into four or five pieces, rather, it is like
it is being cut into very tiny pieces, with not one part left intact.
Then, your beloved one even crudely tromps on the pieces! When falling
in love, often one is blind. When in love, a person becomes deaf.
Such a person receives nothing but derision from people; what one
receives from the lovers is the heartless knife.
During my cultivation, I cannot totally understand love, but I
do catch the meaning. Love and hatred are of the same family; they
cannot be separated. Love and hatred are the origin of sadness.
Do not try to understand love; it is sometimes best to be ignorant.
This is 'not having', but it is also 'not losing.' A last word from
a cultivator: The truest love is forgiveness.
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