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DH Illustration
Male and female fireflies only flash their lights to mate with each other and once this is complete, they die. Fireflies are considered beautiful because they live in the moment knowing that their reason for life and living is fleeting. They understand that beauty is truly expressed in its own passing.
Loosely translated from a Zen parable, a Zen monk saw a beautiful goose fly by and wanted to share this moment of joy and beauty with his elder brother who was walking right beside him. But that very moment, he had to bend down to remove a pebble that was hurting his foot.
By the time he asked his brother to look up, the goose had already flown by.
Baffled, the elder monk asked, “What did you want me to see?” but the younger monk could only remain silent as he understood that both; the joy at seeing the goose and the sorrow at not being able to share the moment with his brother were transient.
Life is made up of a collection of ephemeral moments that cannot be gathered.
Our attachment to people and experiences, both good and bad, takes away from living life in the now.
We need to accept that sorrow and joy will meet us every day; sometimes in the same very moment and we must try not to get blinded by the tears of sorrow or the euphoria of joy. Both are tempered by the fact that nothing is permanent and nothing will last for long. The duo joy and sorrow are merely guests; and one comes as the other leaves. Sorrow shakes the yellow, brown and red leaves from the sprig of your heart, to allow supple green leaves of joy to take their place.
The supple green leaves will again change color when the seasons turn as joy knows it will return and
one must move from one season of the heart to the next without
holding on to residue from the seasons past.
Emotions, regret, guilt are simply rear view mirrors. They may provide insight in retrospect but cannot help you chart your way forward. Looking back and holding on goes against the very principle of life, which is to move forward eternally, knowing that eternity itself is made up of fleeting moments.