Standing before it, I wondered what the Buddha would think,
this oversized, exaggerated likeness that likely bears little resemblance.
And yet I was in awe, as much for the effort and devotion that brought it into being as for the image itself.
“I’ve been wondering the same thing, young man. Just so you know, having seen the Buddha up close, it looks nothing like him.”
It was Pa, of course. I thought he might show up.
“When did you arrive?” I asked.
“When you did.”
“How did you get here?”
“I just did. And how did you get here?”
As if he didn’t know. But I showed him photos anyway.
I asked if he might stay long enough for us to look around together.
“Of course. I can think of nothing better.”
It’s a lovely spot, high atop the hill,
looking out to sea.
Pa drew my attention to a pot, low to the ground.
“What do you see?”
“A beautiful flower,” I said.
“Now what do you see?”
“Oh my,” taken aback by its mystery.
“How have you been?” I asked.
“That can wait. More importantly, how have you been?”
I told him about Thailand, Jen’s visit, the food, the gentle people.
“They’re not the same here. I can’t put my finger on it but the energy is different. Too much perhaps. The constant movement. Tiresome.”
“Oh really,” he mused. “Let’s take a walk. There’s a special place not far from here. They call it the Wisdom Path. We’ll get there through the woods.
We were quiet for awhile,
enjoying the quiet.
But then Pa spoke:
“I want to tell you about a friend of mine, Chuang. A nice man. Born the same month and year as me but in a small village half way around the world. He’s a funny man. Always make me think. Just the other day he said:
Fred, all men know the use of the useful, but few know the use of the useless.
“I’ve been thinking of that one ever since. I kind of get it now.”
Then Pa proceeded to tell a story Chuang had told him.
“You know, the Chinese are fond of rabbits. They consider them very wise. There’s a myth they share about a rabbit born centuries ago that still lives.“
“As a youth there was no hint of his longevity, given his humble beginning and frail constitution, both of which contributed to a rather negative outlook on life. One day the Wise One of the Clan approached the young rabbit. This Wise One had a way about him and the young one opened up. They talked for hours, and the next day and the next as well. On the fourth day, the Wise One reminded the young one that it was the night of the full moon.
I want you to sit where no one can see you but where you can see everyone. Return after the next full moon and tell me what you learned.
The young rabbit did as instructed and returned a new rabbit - humble, grateful, wise beyond his years.
Pa concluded just as we caught sight of the Wisdom Path,
thirty-eight wooden columns
a line from the Heart Sutra inscribed on each.
”You know, young man, there are Wise Ones everywhere. You need only pay attention. And not just among humans. Every species has Wise Ones. They come in all shapes and sizes. Each unique in accordance with their being.”
We grew quiet again, and began the walk back. Rounding the corner onto the walkway where the Buddha could be seen,
we heard footsteps behind us.
Pa enjoyed the cable car ride immensely and back at Tuan Chung suggested we rest in a park near the Metro.
”The flower we looked at. People are like that too. Each a mystery.”
And on the return, I saw people differently,
and imagined their individual lives.
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