Thursday, August 20, 2009

This Is So Me

I have let slip over the last few months that we have sick relatives piled up like cord wood around here. That kind of thing can wear on you after, say, a couple of years, so this evening I felt a need to seek out some Zen wisdom. Of course, I sought it on the Internet because the Internet is the source of all knowledge. I stumbled upon a post called On Death and Dying. Note the moving illustration. Read and prepare to be moved.

Kind of.

Fortunately, one of the commenters explained the Zenishness of the story. And I do get it. But what I did before I got it was laugh. It was good.

And then I thought, this is so me. Or maybe it was just my response to the story that is so me. The guy who maintains the Zen Mirror blog appears to be a serious Buddhist who has studied for years while I dabble and not very often. He had something serious to say with that story. I am the one whose response to everything is to find a twisted humor in it.

Okay, that story was funny. But, here I am, looking for a little comfort and what do I find? Something funny. That is appropriate because I find humor, twisted and otherwise, a release and thus comforting.

Perhaps I should tell this story the next time I have to go to a funeral. Or I could write it up in a sympathy card. Wait. Now I am getting twisted.

2 comments:

tanita davis said...

Okay, I am just totally showing MY lack of inner Zen in not seeing any lesson in that but the joke either.

I mean, I guess we're supposed to be willing to let go when we die, but the dude just wanted a cookie... where there's life, there should be chocolate, is what I say!

Yeah. Family stacked like cordwood. That's pretty much how it's going for me, too. Thanks for the smile, even if I feel more wry and realistic than transcendentalist.

gail said...

I think the nonhumor point of the story is that attachment leads to suffering and this poor guy was totally attached to the cookies as some kind of romantic symbol for his relationship with his wife or something. Though why would it be wrong for him to enjoy that delusion in his final hours? Why would the attachment cause suffering? Maybe I don't get it.

Today I had to make an unexpected trip to some elderly relatives to help them out with something. When we were through, I picked us up some takeout for lunch and included chocolate chip cookies. Mine was a huge disappointment, and they didn't even eat theirs.