The
Glass is Already Broken - Stephen and Ondrea Levine
Once someone asked a well-known Thai meditation
master, "In this world where everything changes, where nothing remains the
same, where loss and grief are inherent in our very coming into existence, how
can there be any happiness? How can we find security when we see that we can't
count on anything being the way we want it to be?" The teacher, looking
compassionately at this fellow, held up a drinking glass that had been given to
him earlier in the morning and said, "You see this goblet? For me this
glass is already broken. I enjoy it. I drink out of it. It holds my water
admirably, sometimes even reflecting the sun in beautiful patterns. If I should
tap it, it has a lovely ring to it. But when I put this glass on a shelf and
the wind knocks it over, or my elbow brushes it off the table and it falls to
the ground and shatters, I say, 'Of course.' When I understand that this glass
is already broken, every moment with it is precious. Every moment is just as it
is, and nothing need be otherwise."
When we recognize that, just like the glass,
our body is already broken, that indeed we are already dead, then life becomes
precious, and we open to it just as it is, in the moment it is occurring. When
we understand that all our loved ones are already dead — our children, our
mates, our friends — how precious they become. How little fear can interpose;
how little doubt can estrange us. When you live your life as though you're
already dead, life takes on new meaning. Each moment becomes a whole lifetime,
a universe unto itself.
When we realize we are already dead, our
priorities change, our heart opens, and our mind begins to clear of the fog of
old holdings and pretendings. We watch all life in transit, and what matters
becomes instantly apparent: the transmission of love; the letting go of
obstacles to understanding; the relinquishment of our grasping, of our hiding
from ourselves. Seeing the mercilessness of our self-strangulation, we begin to
come gently into the light we share with all beings. If we take each teaching,
each loss, each gain, each fear, each joy as it arises and experience it fully,
life becomes workable. We are no longer a "victim of life." And then
every experience, even the loss of our dearest one, becomes another opportunity
for awakening.
If our only spiritual practice were to live as
though we were already dead, relating to all we meet, to all we do, as though
it were our final moments in the world, what time would there be for old games
or falsehoods or posturing? If we lived our life as though we were already
dead, as though our children were already dead, how much time would there be
for self-protection and the re-creation of ancient mirages? Only love would be
appropriate, only the truth.
About
the Author: Excerpted from Stephen and Ondrea Levine's book, Who Dies?: An
Investigation of Conscious Living and Conscious Dying.
