In his book "Going Back to My Heart," Han Shaogong writes
about emptiness, comparing it to a deep valley where no sound or light
exists unless you jump in. If emptiness is a deep valley, then perhaps
confusion is not even a valley. You'll find that everything in the world
seems to be moving away from you, and yet you're surrounded by people
rushing around you. However, you don't know if they are really people or
something else, as their thunderous roars penetrate your eardrums and
infiltrate your brain.
They all seem to be in a hurry, running around without a clear purpose, and
sometimes arguing amongst themselves. It's like watching a war between tiny
creatures over whether to break the big or small end of an egg. People are
always strange, and you don't know what they're thinking or why they're
doing what they're doing.
You want to get closer to them and experience what they're feeling, but an
invisible and transparent wall surrounds you, preventing you from
interacting with them. It's not really a wall that you can touch or feel,
but something intangible that seems to transcend the six realms, change size
and shape, and resembles the pagoda of the Heavenly King Li in Chinese
mythology. It's impenetrable and protects you to some extent, but it also
keeps you from experiencing what's on the other side. You don't even have
the ability to break through it like the mythological hero Nezha.
All you can do is watch from a distance, listening and continuing to think.
But if emptiness is the complete lack of senses, then confusion is the
limited ability to sense. Perhaps you'd rather feel nothing at all, because
what you can sense might deprive you of what you already have, or worse,
harm you.
It's noise, light pollution, sensory garbage, and they corrode your brain
and heart day and night, leaving you empty and numb. You may even lose your
ability to think and feel.
So, is being lost and confused really a good thing? Can anyone tell me? |