Thats What A Buddhas Like
(Rinpoche in Sarnath, 1987)
That’s What A Buddha’s Like
It’s hard to know where to start
when talking about the ineffable.
Maybe starting at the end is best.
It’s taken me a lifetime to appreciate
the little things, the simple, unadorned, and unpretentious
that sometimes peek out
from under the fancy robes of influence and prestige.
Years ago my Lama visited my home on short notice.
He stopped by with his girlfriend at the time
when my mom, wife and daughter were there,
and we spent a couple of hours over tea and cookies
catching up on many years of news.
When he eventually drove away
my daughter, maybe seven or eight at the time,
turned to me and said,
“So that’s what a Buddha’s like.”
For over forty years I’ve known this man,
watched him up close, in formal and casual setting,
at retreats and teachings,
on the road and in his home,
and what I’ve noticed is something hard to describe.
It’s a quality so obvious and yet elusive, simply put;
a sense of being in the moment, without contrivance.
Being without contrivance is the elusive part,
because it is so rare, and yet so ordinary.
I’ve been around a fair number of Lamas
who are considered great,
and who invariably live up to their role,
with a presence that instills awe and reverence
with a dignity that is easy to see as natural
until you see through it
to its cultivated core.
One of the challenges of approaching the ineffable
is the oblique strategies the mind must take.
If I had this remarkable friend before me now
all I’d have to do is gently bow
or touch my forehead or cheek to his
for an instant to express this love and respect
and an unfathomable appreciation
for his uncontrived ways.
But being uncontrived and without artifice
just means being perfectly in the moment
which in effect means being out of time.
And being out of time means
this love and respect is something we share
here and now
always and forever.
Instead of such a simple and direct acknowledgment
I’m left using words to circle around
what can only be known from within.
It’s been over twenty years now
since my daughter turned to me in our driveway
acknowledging that she recognized in you
what had caught my eye and heart twenty years before
what is beyond concept or word
an elusive something,
most obvious in what it isn’t,
an innocence expressed directly
in a life lived
without pretense
without effort
without worry
in the service of a joy
that even a child can recognize
as the spirit of play.
(1/6/24)
Copyright ©
James Moore
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