The grey, cold sky hung heavily over the Nepalese landscape. The monk finishes sweeping the courtyard of the monastery after evening prayers. He looks at the worn out bristles of the broom, at his worn out robe, and sighs. The days have been unusually endless and colourless like the faded sky.
He leaned against the wall of the exit of the monastery, staring out at the mountains. There was trouble in his heart, one torn between desire and emptiness. He closed his eyes tight shut, again the image of that beautiful woman who had been visiting the temple over the past weeks surfaced. She had been praying incessantly for her mother who had taken ill. She had poured her heart out to the heavens. Her long silky hair, her slender body, that long dress with a slit that revealed those smooth, fair legs. The tears that flowed down her porcelain face. He was moved by her beauty and her vulnerability. He wondered if they would ever meet again in another life?
Then, in his own moment of clarity and truth, he opened his eyes. Reciting from the Dhamapada, he turned back toward the monastery grounds.
Empty this boat, O bhikkhu!
When emptied, it will swiftly move
Cutting off lust and hatred
To Nibbana will you thereby go.
Be not attached to the beloved
And never with the unbeloved.
Not to meet the beloved is painful
As also to meet with the unbeloved.
Therefore hold nothing dear,
For separation from the beloved is painful.
There are no bonds for those
To whom nothing is dear or not dear.
Dhamapada (Sayings of the Buddha)
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