Tag: Ray Bradbury

Zen and the Art of Flying.

“Learning to let go should be learned before learning to get. Life should be touched, not strangled. You’ve got to relax, let it happen at times, and let others move forward with it.” ~ Ray Bradbury

Though he may often refer to God in his stories, Ray Bradbury, author of Fahrenheit 451 and The Martian Chronicles (as well as, 600 or so other odd stories) when interviewed on the occasion of his 90th birthday had this to say,

“I’m a Zen Buddhist if I would describe myself. I don’t think about what I do. I do it. That’s Buddhism. I jump off the cliff and build my wings on the way down.”

It’s one of my most favorite quotes regarding the nature of living. A method not to think, but rather, to release—to allow the moment to exist in its entirety. Because, we never really know what we have until it’s gone.

This is the gift of our perspective—causing even the most treacherous of paths seem like our greatest blessing.

My darlings, we all face these challenges in our lives. Some, a little more painful than the rest. But always, we find our way ‘through’. Time keeps tumbling forward, my dears—but, in the end, hindsight offers life’s greatest reveal.

And, with each new day—we smile. Knowing, that you and I, my darlings—shall build our wings on the way down.

 

 

My Favorite Buddhist Quote by Someone I’ll Bet You Never Realized Was Buddhist.

“Learning to let go should be learned before learning to get. Life should be touched, not strangled. You’ve got to relax, let it happen at times, and let others move forward with it.” ~ Ray Bradbury

Though he may often refer to God in his stories, Ray Bradbury, author of Fahrenheit 451 and The Martian Chronicles (as well as, 600 or so other odd stories) when interviewed on the occasion of his 90th birthday had this to say,

“I’m a Zen Buddhist if I would describe myself. I don’t think about what I do. I do it. That’s Buddhism. I jump off the cliff and build my wings on the way down.”

It’s one of my most favorite quotes regarding Buddhism, life, and the truest form of living. Not thinking, rather doing, and figuring it all out ‘on the way down.’

I have faced many challenges in my life. Some, a little more recent than those which have gone before them.

Nevertheless, with each new day—and, no matter how I may feel—I smile in the biggest and most special sort of ways. For you see, these days, I am smiling because I am grateful—grateful to simply greet and embrace each and every single one of my days.

And though, my mobility may be just a bit wobbly at times…like the bird, my wings are formed each time I leap from ‘life’s cliff’ and always before my feet hit the ground.

I take great comfort in this, most gentle ‘knowing’—this understanding, that no matter what, I’ll be, always, okay.

Namaste, my most beautiful friends—and remember, sometimes you’ve got to ‘leap’ in order to ‘fly.’

Floating Into the Waters of the Unknown.

[blockquote source=”Ray Bradbury, Farewell Summer “]“Learning to let go should be learned before learning to get. Life should be touched, not strangled. You’ve got to relax, let it happen at times, and at others move forward with it. It’s like boats. You keep your motor on so you can steer with the current. And when you hear the sound of the waterfall coming nearer and nearer, tidy up the boat, put on your best tie and hat, and smoke a cigar right up till the moment you go over. That’s a triumph.” [/blockquote]

I’ve been having some issues with a bit of software I purchased recently.

The code, though noble in feature, was a bit too ambitious for its own good.

When I contacted the vendor and original author of the product, my intention was to help. As a web developer, I’ve learned the troubles of these waters quite well – having fallen down a time or two, myself.

“Look, let me show you…” I offered. But my attempts were met with the harumph of disdain.

To say that he was a little reluctant would have been the understatement of the century. He didn’t want to hear any of what I had to say, and he certainly wasn’t interested in my efforts to improve things.

“Leave me alone,” he hissed, “and don’t ever call here again.”

So, what did I do? I called back, once again – leaving two bullish souls locked in foolish impasse.

You see, I wanted so desperately to teach…what I failed to realize was that he just wasn’t ready to learn.

“It’s never about what it’s about,” my Mother used to say.

And so I waited patiently, and knowing the right moment would soon come.

But, after a week’s worth of waiting – I resigned myself to the fact, that perhaps this moment might never come.

Eventually, I contacted my bank. I felt so defeated, and hoped that they might help to mediate. But, alas, in reaching out to this young man – they, too, were met with a similar ‘go away’ energy.

In good faith, the bank proceeded with a formal claim – the effect of which, would certainly impact the seller’s ‘good merchant’ status. Given only 2 days to respond, the young man was finally forced to acknowledge the issue.

When I came home that day, I was excited to see a message from him. Finally, a glimmer of hope’s light was breaking through.

Until, I listened to the message, that is – which was, surly at best.

“I’m refunding your money, so don’t ever contact me again!”

sigh…this didn’t go at all as I had expected.

The following morning, I received the refund deposit to my account – all three of them. You see, in his flurried upset and haste, he inadvertently duplicated his efforts.

Oh, Karma…not yet.

“It’s never about what it’s about..”

And when the phone rang, I knew it was he on the other end – though, this time with a bit more patience to boot.

Sometimes, it takes a good stinging pain to capture our attention. And, sometimes it takes those moments of pain for us to finally hush up and listen.

As dearest Pema Chodron might add, sometimes this pain is our opportunity for healing.

“Would you mind please, calling your bank…?” he asked. His voice seemed humbled by the embarrassment…sheepish, perhaps.

“Not at all,” I replied, “but, only if you’ll explain why on earth you wouldn’t listen to me?”

After some hemming and hawing, the truth finally emerged. “I suppose, maybe because my Dad said I’d never amount to anything.”

Oh, dear…

So, there it was, in all of its fullness and glory – this simple truth, buried for years under the heavy cloak of our own story.

Oh, and that story can be a good one, too – telling tales of the many instances we’ve suffered a loss, felt betrayal…or never quite measured up.

Why do we place such a terrible burden on our shoulders? To carry this weight for so many years?

No wonder, we’re always so exhausted.

But, in the end, it’s these stories that keep us here – unavailable to our truth.

There is a saying in Buddhism: “Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional“.

In an odd way, this young man had carried his father’s expectation of failure with him through all of these years.

Even in those situations intended for good, he was unable to see past the confines of these past limitations.

Until one day, when the pain was so great he was forced to listen – it was only then that he was able to see the truth in his own existence.

So, even though we may feel so very anxious to learn…still, we must learn also to wait for the lesson.

Learning can’t be forced, and some lessons can’t be taught.

But, when a lesson finds us in our moment of greatest need – my dears, that’s when it becomes everlasting.

“It’s never about what it’s about..”

And, when we let go – we learn.