Upon first glance, this lesson may seem as if it is about being optimistic rather than pessimistic. There is some of that, but I am going to put a bit of a different spin on this for just a moment. When we walk into a garden, our attention naturally falls upon the beauty. We go in with the expectation of the experience of beauty. In life, however, there are both roses and thorns.
Existence, itself, is like a garden. In a garden, life and death are intimately married. Think of compost, for one example. The remnants of what was support the creation of what is to come. A garden is full of beautiful birds and slimy worms. There are sunny days and there are rainy days. Both are required. The petals may be full of color, but the soil is always a monotonous brown. A garden is full of roses and thorns. But when we enter a garden, when we look at a rose, we do not consider any of this for even a moment. We just take in the wonder of it all in its entirety.
Whatever the rose is, it is that because of its totality.
Many great teachers and spiritual lessons speak of the importance of seeing the light of Tao in others. Why is it that when we look at a rose we are so easily willing to look past the thorns, yet when we engage with another human we are so keen to see that person’s flaws and shortcomings?
We might then be prone to think, Ok, I will make an effort to look past each person’s flaws and see their true nature. If we go this route then we haven’t been paying attention to the teachings, the most important and relevant of which, for this lesson, relates to Zen and the idea of progress. We do not jump through hoops in order to enact transformation. Instead, we properly position ourselves so that transformation can occur of its own accord.
Eckhart Tolle says, “All things in nature are not only one with themselves but also one with the totality. They haven’t removed themselves from the fabric of the whole by claiming a separate existence: ‘me’ and the rest of the universe. The contemplation of nature can free you of that ‘me,’ the great troublemaker.”
Being, amidst the roses and thorns
So what is the solution? How can we position ourselves to begin to increasingly see Tao in others and the oneness of all things? Were you not paying attention? Jack and Eckhart have just told us. “Spend more time with the roses and the jasmine.” We might begin with an expectation of beauty and wonder, but it is by being, in all of its ease and simplicity, that we can position ourselves for a transformation to occur.
“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” When we are truly contemplating the rose then all names and identities dissolve into the oneness of manifestation. The rose has no name, nor do we. There is just being, amidst the roses and thorns.
Explore more
While we are on the subject of gardens, let’s take a moment to look at an interesting curiosity that exists within the world of Zen. Perhaps you are already familiar with Zen gardens, those distinct landscapes which generally contain combed sand and stone monuments. Zen gardens embody many of the elements of the teachings themselves.
In trying to understand the meaning of Zen gardens, we should be reminded that there is no greater method for understanding than experience. Additionally, they can remind us of the importance and usefulness of empty space. This article on asianstudies.org even discusses how Zen gardens wade into the concept of identity, the true self/false self that we have been speaking of in this lesson. It also adds some historical context to these wondrous places and offers some further insight on what the individual elements of the Zen garden might symbolize.
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