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Gazing often at the sky has become a habit. To me, the vast and tranquil sky is always an infinite source of inspiration for thoughts and ideas. When sky gazing is a frequent activity, one will sometimes catch sight of shooting stars. When that happens, one cannot help but point and exclaim, "Look, it is a shooting star!" Of course, the falling of a star, far off in space, is not accompanied by any audible sound. The vertical fall of flickering brilliance lasts only fleetingly, then vanishes. It is a perplexing experience! When I was small, I heard others talk about how a wish made upon a falling star would come true, and I can no longer recall how many such wishes I made. However, lately I have become increasingly fond of looking at falling stars, not because I want to make wishes, but because the sight brings a jolt to my inner being. It is a jolt, a feeling, that brings to mind the swift passage of time: each day, week, month, and year gliding off like a meteor. So much has happened and many of these events, like flashes of lightning, feel so far away, yet so natural and unrestrained. The sight of a shooting star delights me, for no particular reason other than that every moment of poetry emerging from the center of the vast and tranquil inner being brings delight to me. I once saw a shower of meteors. It was extraordinary to witness several stars falling at the same time. The companion from my youth asked me, "What's the matter?" "How transient it is!" was my reply. Was I a bit too precocious in observing then that there was a connection between transience and the shower of meteors? Apart from shooting stars, I also love the sight of red maples. Canada is a nation famous for its maples, and Seattle, where I have settled, is not far away from the Canadian border. I have heard that the famous tourist attraction Nikko in Japan is also known for its beautiful maples. At my residence at the Rainbow Villa, I asked Master Lian-yin to buy some red maples for planting there. I want to transform the Rainbow Villa into the Maple Villa. "Find the kind that has the reddest maple leaves," I said. In Seattle, the seasonal changes are distinct. When autumn arrives, while other leaves turn yellow, the maples turn red. And it is exactly such a scene that beckons me to go to the maples, to quietly read their red leaves, one by one. I would call out to my students, "Let's go, let's go to see the red maples!" I am, indeed, very fond of red maples. We all break into smiles while viewing them. Standing on the emerald green grass, we all share in smiles of the red maples. It has been an annual autumnal event for many years now, this beautiful interlude in life when we get into our cars to drive to view the red maples. When the season of red maples is over and the leaves start to wither, there are leaves fluttering in the air, and fallen leaves all over the lawns. Then, the first snow starts to drift down.... Why do I love the red maples? Just for that slice of "red." I have heard that the redder the leaves become, the closer they are to their time of withering. Perhaps it is this paradox that has so tightly held my fascination. Oftentimes, when a life that is at its most spectacular moment, it gets buried amid heaps of fallen leaves. I have associated shooting stars with red maples because they share this one characteristic. The light of a shooting star and the redness in a maple leaf are similar in that both have been built up over the span of a whole lifetime. Upon seeing the shooting stars, my heart soars. Upon seeing the red maples, my heart also soars. At such moments, I want to catch "the light of the shooting stars" and "the red of the maple leaves." I am urged to catch that fleeting inspiration. If I catch it, I will not be a "thinker" who is in bondage. To catch the "light." To catch the "red." That is Life! Written by Living Buddha Lian-sheng Sheng-yen Lu at the True Buddha Tantric Quarter, Redmond, Washington, U.S.A. 1997.8
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