Losing my religion
Life catches on, move on and you are sucked in with the daily events and small things that consists of your life. Then you are caught suddenly thinking what you are doing with your life. What is it you want. What is your purpose. That is so trite. But once in a while you question your purpose here and trying to find the meaning of your existence. You forget to pray. Pray for what? There was a time I will religiously take my rosary and pray like crazy and pull those small markings that said how many times you chanted yourself sore. Now, I have lost my sense of being in touch with myself. Acknowledging that something bigger than me is at force and I am part of it. What happened? Life caught on and I lost myself into mindless pleasure of little things that somehow doesn’t really matter. But then chanting everyday somehow didn’t give me the same pleasure that used to give me. It doesn’t have sense anymore. To whom am I chanting? Am I reminding myself of something? When you are ready the Guru will find you! But it seems I am yet to find that Guru.
In my quest for Guru and explanation about myself I dabbled in mysticism, read bible, read Koran, read Buddhism, read all I could I find to read that would hold my interest. Went to church, went to mosque, climbed mountains to find the scared places and came back questioning my quest and not yet finding the answers that my heart seeks. I remember walking ten hours for three grueling days to Singye Dzong and arguing to myself and questioning the Guru who went there. I kept asking questioning “Gee you had to go to godforsaken place and make it scared and here I am following your footsteps” and remember the lore teller of the place pointing various shapes of the rocks and saying this is Guru’s Dorji and Khandu’s whatever. And I am looking at them and saying, huh…so what are you trying to say? Other than seeing the giant example of Guru’s asset I couldn’t figure out what I am suppose to see. Then I remembered a story about Drupka Kuenley showing his lingam to a family and they all became enlightened. Was I suppose to get enlightened? Was my mind so clouded by the emotions of being too human that I fail to see what I am suppose to see?
Every time I take a footstep towards those scared places I question. you really had to go there??? For what purpose? I get it that you needed some place quite but couldn’t you have chosen some places nearby? And what in the heaven’s name were you thinking marking those places and sculpting those rocks? Symbolism seems to be the only answer that hits you with reality and show things that is in your face, loud and sometimes so shocking that will somehow show you that there are other forces greater than you have ever believed in. But somehow these symbols seems to leave you with more questions than answers. Sometimes I agree with the place. I agree this is a beautiful place that touches your heart and makes you poetic. If I was a poet I will be writing poetic words and I find peace here and I am sure you must have come here to find the peace when life got too much.So tell me, are you laughing yourself silly because all kind of people come here to find something and sometimes believing that it will cleanse their bad karma or open their mind? Why am I here? I am here because my mind is restless and I might die soon without knowing you. I am here because I believe in higher spiritual force and I need to be in touch with it once in a while, which I cant seem to do it when I am sucked in life. On and on I will go on talking to myself believing I am conversing to someone greater than me. Buddhism doesn’t believe in god, Buddhism is a philosophy and Buddha hood. But how much of it do I really believe in it?