Play on Stage

Finally it is over... This tiring pointless mud-wrestling at her stage. She was standing there surrounded by the aura of misery like a heavy fog.

I had faced it many times in various persons. Why is it SO difficult people to understand that if they really want a change, they have to change themselves; and if they plan to start the change tomorrow that tomorrow never comes. One has to start it right here, right now. Why is it SO hopeless to get that if they are applying the same habitual problem-solving-pattern they used for decades and the same heaviness (tamas) that brought sorrow results countless times, they ought to get the very same end again and again: multiplying the very same problem. Because they are not an innocent victim of circumstances, it is not a bad luck, not a curse; but built in the very fabric of what they are. Unless changing the relevant part of personality and approach itself, they struggle is just like that is of the man who is about to drawn and try to pull himself out by grabbing his own hair. He ought to sink deeper and deeper into the muddy bottom…

But no, they don’t get it… As some pervert masochistic ritual they love to taste it by discussing it over and over again like that alone would bring any change. Of course, without coloring its detail, like some tasty gossip, the theater would close… They should stop whining, come out of the labyrinth of misery built brick by brick by their very selves, face the reason, and start to work on the root-cause. Oh, that is not so nice. Instead they draw you into their stage, let play the drama with them. After all, acting alone is rather boring. Working alone is even worse…

So, they set up the scene, spicing with a pinch of hurt, just a little bit of clever dispute and false dignity, and you are right there in the mud. They are quoting some real or imaginary hurt, committed by you days before (that is still the better case…), when you were not bowed before their ego.

- I will start a new life tomorrow. But after all -she says- what you think is not entirely true. It is superficial. It is unfair. It is…

My goodness! This act always shocks me. WHY are you here then?! If it was totally irrelevant, you would not been here, would you? My words were just as much flown on air as thousands of others did. But you are here… The words (or they interpretation...) got stoppage by you; in you. You re-played that insult many times on the canvas of your mental cinema, colored it like a situation-game. You carried it for hours, for days. But it was untrue – oh, yes…

There is a nice story:

Two Buddhist monks, who vowed total celibacy not to even touch a woman, walk on the countryside. The weather is pleasant, the birds are singing, the sun is shining brilliantly after a refreshing rain. They reach to a small river, where they see a lady, who is rather frustrated.

- What disturbs you on this beautiful day? -ask the older monk.

- My old mother is sick and she called for me. But this small river is flooding and I cannot cross it; I fear it takes me.

The monks are thinking for quite some time, when the older one suddenly goes to the lady, takes her into his arms and carries her over to the other bank. The two monks continue their path, but the younger one becomes very silent and disturbed. They are walking for several hours, while at night they stop and set up a campfire. The younger one did not say a word during whole afternoon, but here it bursts out of him:

- We had made a vow. But today you touched a woman!

- Oh, brother! I left that woman at the riverbank long ago. Why are you still carrying her?!

Was it superficial? All right, then it tells something about my level, why are you still carrying it? Because it had something very true to tell you, my friend – about your very self. It did touch a sensitive point. May well be, my interpretation was false, but YOU found some truth in it that bothers you ever since. And instead of extracting it by taking this great chance to face with and understand something deep within you, you are standing here projecting your misery on me; continuing your old play.

That is perfectly all right, however, but I got bored of it. I tried to smile until now, but it is over. If anyone comes to me for help, I shall try my best. But it is enough to be a guest actor on other’s stage. So, one is really ready to work on himself when shares his problem, or we say a friendly farewell at the riverbank. Just as I leave all this stuff behind, now. And enjoy the soft touch of sunshine after the refreshing drencher, and try to accept and understand that we all are just humans. :)