Dharma Wheel

As I just hit the big 65 years of age today I'll bore you all with another story.
After all, now that I'm 65 I can claim the right to be "weird".
So here's the story.

Once there was a village that had been suffering a drought for many years.
Then one day they heard that it was due to rain that very night.
So all the villagers gathered every pail, bottle, any container that would hold water.
Some had many containers, some had few....but they all put them out for that precious water.
That very night it did rain, and in the morning each container...no matter how big or small was filled to the brim with that precious water to remove their thirst.

If you don't think that is a Dharma story let me explain.
The thirst repersents the longing for the Dharma.
The rain is the fullfilment of that Dharma.
The mercy of Buddha is illustrated by the way that, whatever the size and number of their containers, each person recieved exatly the right amount to fill each to fill their share of containers to the very brim.

gulpety-gulp

Happy birthday Quiet Heart

I like reading your posts because they are interesting to me. I don't think that you are weird; I think that you are a person who loves the dharma and that's to be commended.

Your story reminds me of the "Parable of the Herbs" in the Lotus Sutra. I take it's meaning to be that every sentient being hears the dharma, in it's own mind, in a way that is appropriate (that it can understand). Buddha impartially teaches all sentient beings and doesn't favor: those who are more spiritually adept, those who keep the precepts over those who don't and those who are Buddhist over those who aren't. Many years ago, I asked my teacher at that time about this; he didn't say whether my interpretation was correct or not. He just said that there are some Buddhists who would hate to hear this interpretation.

That's a good one, I see these too sometimes.

Once when I was at the Mexico coast during rainy season. The villagers would keep their boats docked just off the beach in this little bay. It was storming hard and a boat sank. The next night, a chubby little man with a hat was sitting out in his boat with his arms crossed under the canopy perched over head. Then it started pouring, thundering and lighting, and the waves kicked up huge. He was calmly sitting there as his boat rocked hard. He was so still. Every few minutes he would take a plastic cup, scoop up some water and pour it back into the ocean, and then go back to sitting with his arms crossed like nothing happened. I thought this aptly represented the path.