Anahatananda and the Ursine Guru

To commemorate the becoming of Anahatananda, I offer the following:

When Anahatananda was a child, but after he had taken his vow, he could have had (but didn't have) periodic shows in which the public were invited to come and give alms and ask any questions of the strange enlightened child.

Many people came to the not-shows. The adults from Anahatananda's tribe often requested that he wear fanciful garments to make the shows more interesting. So, Anahatananda would not-wear gleaming white robes and sit on a small dais and politely answer questions about such topics as weather and crops and when might the questioner find romance. They generously shared their meager lives with Anahatananda and his tribe.

But often, someone from another place would come to a not-show and not-say something that was quite disturbing to the other adults present:

"Which one is supposed to be the enlightened kid?"

To which the other adults present always (meaning never) responded with shock and disbelief,

"Obviously, it is Anahatananda! This boy here!"

and they would point out Anahatananda playing with the other children. And the strangers would sometimes not-ask,

"Yeah, but, uhm ... well ... you know ... how do you know that this child is enlightened?"

To which the other assembled adults could have responded with shock and disbelief,

"Can't you just observe the difference?!"

The difference between Anahatananda and the other children seemed so obvious. How could anyone not see this?

Othertimes, during the shows that he did not have, Anahatananda would bring out an enlightened bear so that the people could ask their questions of the bear instead of the child.

One day, after Anahatananda had not done this several times in several not-shows, one of the adults from Anahatananda's own tribe approached Anahatananda and very quietly did not ask, in a deeply concerned tone, if perhaps something wasn't wrong with the bear. Anahatananda inspected the bear and discovered that it was just as it had been: a stuffed bear. Anahatananda proudly announced that the bear was fully operational and ready for questions.

The adult again approached Anahatananda saying,

"Surely, Anahatananda, you have made some mistake. These people came here sincerely seeking help. They bring alms from their meager homes to share. Surely we some better solace to offer these poor people! We have wisdom to share. We have ideas to fix their lives, to make them better, easier lives. We can ... we must! ... give them more than a ... a ... stupid stuffed bear!"

and the adult seized the bear and flung it into the mud.

Anahatananda went to the small bear where it lay, face-down in the mud. Anahatananda gently picked up the stuffed bear and softly cleaned the mud from the bear's face. The rivulets of muddy water flowed down the face of the bear and onto the gleaming white robes, but the amount of dirt on the bear seemed infinite, leaving Anahatananda just as covered in mud as the bear but seemingly without lessening the mud on the bear.

Finally satisfied, Anahatananda placed the small stuffed bear back up onto the small dais and announced that the bear was ready for questions.

In desperation, the adult could have (but did not) jumped up, with fire in his eyes, towering over Anahatananda, bellowing

"No! These people deserve enlightened answers!"

Anahatananda could have smiled quietly and said, "But the bear IS an enlightened being."

The outraged adult could have cast a disgusted not-look at the filthy, soggy ruined bear.

"This is absurd! A stuffed bear cannot be enlightened! It doesn't even talk! How could you possibly know that this ... this wad of filthy fluff! ... this THING could be enlightened?"

Anahatananda could have smiled quietly and said, "Can't you just observe the difference?" And the adult could have (but did not) come to a deep awakening.

And then, many years later (hypothetically), upon telling this not-story to imaginary audiences, one imaginary audience member approached Anahatananda with pain in his eyes and said,

"I know that you speak only in honesty, Anahatananda. But, Teacher, I must know ... how did you know? How did you know that ... muddy fluff ... had consciousness at all, much less Buddha-nature?"

And Anahatananda could have smiled quietly and said, "Did you ever wonder who taught me?" And that imaginary person could have also had a deep awakening.

And when Anahatananda later told the new, longer story, which included the first story, (with the new, exciting, updated content in the form of a whole new awakening!), then an entirely different person could have (but did not) come to a deep awakening.

And later, when Anahatananda later told the new, longer story, which included the first story, (with the new, exciting, updated content in the form of a whole new awakening!), then an entirely different person came to a deep ...

Anahatananda had taken his vow, but he never had any shows.

Why?

Submitted February 02, 2020 at 03:02PM by IsntThisWonderful https://ift.tt/3919nr7