I'm at my desk, with the river flowing companionably past and music dancing from my speakers. I can see a pair of ducks going for a sunset swim in one of the curves of the river, prehistoric-looking hadedas are cawing their distinctive call and soon I will stop writing for a cold beer and grilled haloumi cheese.
Today I saw a bird of prey - a small sparrowhawk - alight on one of the high branches of the blue gums outside my window. In the past weeks I have seen various birds of prey, all from my window here: today's small streamlined hawk, yesterday a big tawny bird with hooked beak, last week a pair of kestrels gliding and calling to each other with a silvery piercing cry.
For me, these hunter birds signify strong, intense times... which is what the past few weeks have been.
There have been losses of the heart, shifts in business, power blackouts, a spate of crime stories close to home, uncertainty about my country and where it's going...
as well as flowing moments in workshops, beautiful sunsets, yesterday's moment of elation and wonder when Bob Marley's 'Is This Love' plays on my car radio and I catch a glimpse of a bright shining rainbow in my rearview mirror...
so sweet and salty moments, all flowing one into the other.
The story below is from a friend. It has really helped me make sense of pain and has given me a strong visual image for finding ways within me to contain pain and difficulty and to rise above it too.
Teaching Story
An aging Hindu master grew tired of his apprentice complaining, and so, one morning, sent him for some salt. When the apprentice returned, the master instructed the unhappy young man to put a handful of salt in a glass of water and then to drink it.
"How does it taste?" the master asked.
"Bitter," spit the apprentice.
The master chuckled and then asked the young man to take the same handful of salt and put it in the lake. The two walked in silence to the nearby lake, and once the apprentice swirled his handful of salt in the water, the old man said, "Now drink from the lake."
As the water dripped down the young man's chin, the master asked, "How does it taste?"
"Fresh," remarked the apprentice.
"Do you taste the salt?" asked the master.
"No," said the young man.
At this, the master sat beside this serious young man who so reminded him of himself and took his hands, offering, "The pain of life is pure salt; no more, no less. The amount of pain in life remains the same, exactly the same. But the amount of bitterness we taste depends on the container we put the pain in. So when you are in pain, the only thing you can do is to enlarge your sense of things. . . . Stop being a glass. Become a lake."
from Mark Nepo in The Book of Awakening
