Woke up from surgery,
Then this came to mind:
Feel gratitude with moistened eyes,
Have been gently cared for by
Six nurses and two surgeons.
Receiving love and care inspires.
One may argue: “but they’re paid for it!”,
But isn’t that just poverty mentality?
Why not rejoice in matters equally?
I am cared for – they get paid.
Love is pure, so have no worries,
Would never pick those lovely flowers,
Love means giving room to others,
To let them be the way they are.
Without prejudice nor bias,
Beyond gender, race or beauty.
But “love” for country, flag, you name it,
Isn’t that the basis of our bigotry?
Whatever others may be doing,
It is all okay by me –
If it’s good, a cause of joy,
And when not, it’s only sad indeed.
If only they would listen,
We could maybe help them.
But if they are not open,
What is there that we can do?
Isn’t judging others falsehood?
Who can know what’s on their minds.
Being neither judge, police, or lawman,
I only try to do the best I can.
When love is mixed with self,
It leads to many sorrows:
Impurities of hope and fear,
And being overly concerned.
Freedom is at stake and joy is lost,
And others feel it as imprisonment.
A monk attracted to a woman,
Views her as a sister,
If younger as a daughter,
And if older, as a mother.
But I’m young at heart –
So you may see me as a brother.
See the beauty of the flowers,
Why do we want to pick them?
They are perfect in their natural place.
Same with animals in nature,
We love to watch them dearly –
But why bring any of them back to home?
I don’t fancy handsome bodies,
It’s only heart, no worry,
If you see it different, I’m sorry,
Pure at heart, brings only tears of joy.
Feeling young and stupid sometimes,
It’s an interesting observation:
Obsessed with image like in mirrors.
But when resting in them –
All emotions do subside.
Compassion is the moist of emptiness.
But clinging to it, only makes us sad.
The basis of loving kindness and devotion, is gratitude.
Absolute bodhicitta, the same as rigpa,
Is giving room to let others be the way they are.
A sure way to create your own suffering:
Try to change everyone around you.
Holding on to opinions is the opposite of wisdom.
Although I was knocked out for an hour,
this writing was not induced by chemicals, but from receiving love.