“Wanting nothing with all you heart, stop the stream.
When the world dissolves, everything becomes clear.
Go beyond this way or that way, to the father shore;
where the wold dissolves and everything becomes clear.
Beyond this shore and the father shore,
beyond the beyond, where there is no beginning, no end…
WIthout fear, go.
Do your work with mastery.
By day the sun shines,
and the warrior in his armor shines.
By night the moon shines,
and the master shines in meditation.
But day and night,
the man who is awake shines in the radiance of the spirit.
A master gives up mischief,
he is serene. He leaves everything behind him.
He does not take offense and he does not give it.
He never returns evil for evil.
Alas for the man who raises his hand against another,
and even more for him who returns the blow.
Resist the pleasures of life,
and desire to hurt til sorrows vanish.
Never offend by what you think or say or do.
Honor the man who is awake,
and shows you the way.
Honor the fire of his sacrifice.
Matted hair or family or caste do not make a master,
But the truth and goodness with which he is blessed.
Your hair is tangled and you sit on deerskin.
When inside you are ragged with lust.
The master’s clothes are in tatters.
His veins stand out,
he is wasting away.
Alone in the forest, he sits and meditates.
A man is not born to mastery.
A master is never proud.
He does not talk down to others.
Owning nothing, he misses nothing.
He is not afraid,
he does not tremble.
Nothing binds him.
He is infinitely free.
So cut through the strap and the thong and the rope.
Loosen the fastings, unbolt the doors of sleep…
The master endures insults and ill treatment,
without reacting. For his spirit is an army.
He is never angry, he keeps his promises,
he never strays, he is determined.
This body is my last, he says!
Like water on the leaf of a lotus flower,
or a mustard seed on the point of a needle,
he does not cling.
For he has reached the end of sorry,
and has laid down his burden.
He looks deeply into things and sees their nature.
He discriminates and reaches the end of the way.
He does not linger with those who have a home,
nor with those who stray.
He travels on alone.
He hurts nothing,
he never kills.
He moves with love among the unloving,
with peace and detachment among the hungry and querulous.
Like a mustard seed from the point of a needle,
Hatred has fallen from him,
and lust, hypocrisy, and pride.
He offends no one,
yet he speaks the truth.
His words are clear but never harsh.
Whatever is not his,
he refuses, good/bad, great/small.
He wants nothing from this world and nothing from the next.
He is free.
Desiring nothing, doubting nothing,
beyond judgment and sorrow and the pleasures of the senses,
he has moved beyond time.
He is pure and free.
How clear he is.
He is the moon.
He is serene.
For he has traveled life after life,
the muddy and treacherous road of illusion.
He does not tremble or grasp or hesitated.
He has found peace.
he lets go of life,
of home and pleasure and desire.
Nothing of men can hold him.
Nothing of the gods can hold him.
Nothing in all creation can hold him.
Desires have left him,
never to return.
Sorry has left him,
never to return.
He is calm.
In him the seed of renewing life has been consumed.
He has conquered all the inner worlds.
With dispassionate eye,
he sees everywhere…
The falling and the uprising.
And with great gladness he knows that he has finished.
He has woken from his sleep.
And the way he has taken is hidden from men,
even from spirits and gods, by virtue of his purity.
In him there is no yesterday,
He is full of power.
Fearless, wise, and exalted.
He has vanquished all things.
He sees by virtue of his purity.
He has come to the end of the way,
over the river of his many lives,
his many deaths.
Beyond the sorrow of hell,
beyond the great joy of heaven,
by virtue of his purity.
He has come to the end of the way.
All that he had to do, he has done.
And now he is one.”
How can anyone take this shit seriously? There are far better ways to deal with anger, sorrow and attachment.