Учения ретрита в молчании 3: Второе зрение (2001, Аризона), занятие 2

[Говорящий 1]
Things that we can't see, we can't see even a few seconds or minutes into a future which goes forever. We can't see more than a few yards around us of worlds upon worlds. There are divine beings around us constantly.

We can't see any of them. There's a higher kind of reality than the one we are in. It's around us all the time.

We can't see. It's because we don't have the capacity. We haven't developed our true capacity.

But there's one thing we don't see because we don't want to see. I think it's ironic that this is the only thing that can help us to see the other things. So if you truly want to learn and you can to see all those things, you have to have a good reason.

To see them. You have to want in your heart to see them so deeply you may not even know it. So you have to learn to see the thing that we don't like to see.

And then it will come in your heart a strong burning desire, drive, intense to see all those things. And then you will be able to see them. If you don't see this one thing, you will never see the others.

You won't even think it's possible. You won't even maybe care. People in long retreats like to complain to each other by hand signs that nothing's happening.

In the next minute they tell you a story like this. One of the retreatants, holy person, kind person, was doing her prayers quietly. Then meditating.

And then she could hear something. A small, tiny, tiny squeaking sound outside. And then there was an act of a bodhisattva.

She moved. She moved up off her seat. There's a holy golden moment in the time of a person's life.

She went to see who is crying. And not far from her, she saw a baby rabbit, child rabbit. They are very beautiful.

They are only as big as your hand. They are innocent. They move very slow.

They don't know it's dangerous. They are soft, warm. They don't run away from you.

They are like Twinkies in the desert or other creatures. And this one was already halfway down the jaws of a huge snake. And it was crying.

For what do you cry? You are living in a thousand miles of empty desert. It's almost dark.

A huge snake has you in its jaws. Powerful jaws. These snakes are about as big and round as the bottom of one of our legs.

Why should the baby cry? It's hopeless. Why should the child cry in the dark, in a huge empty desert?

There isn't a creature around large enough to help who won't eat it also. But the baby was crying. Then this kind woman, who claims nothing is happening in her retreat, instantly ran and confronted the snake.

This is the second act of a bloody sacrifice. And because of the power of her, the snake backed off. Just like that, no weapons.

And the child was left on the ground, crawling in the dirt. And one of its legs was half eaten off. And so she nursed it.

Now it's a big fat baby. I think you can see it in the caretaker's place. When he runs, he clicks on the bone of his destroyed leg.

And sometimes I sit, I can't help thinking about it. Halfway down the mouth of a huge snake, crying in the dark, in an empty desert. Why should the child cry?

I can't stop wondering. And then you think of the baby, you look down at the small rabbit. How sad, how pitiful, how hopeless to cry, just die.

I can't stop thinking that we are the same. Every time I think about the child rabbit, I can't stop thinking that we are all the same. We aren't stronger than the child.

We aren't really much bigger. We can't control what happens to us. We've seen the people we love die, torn away, in an instant.

We save baby rabbit, and we don't stop to think we are the same. We aren't more powerful than that baby child. Halfway down.

We are halfway down the mouth of the Lord of Death. There isn't a person here who isn't halfway down. There isn't a single person here who isn't half dead already.

We don't cry because we know it won't help. It's not normal to cry out loud all day among other people. But inside, somewhere, you know that it's true.

You and I and every other person here is halfway down those jaws. Sometimes, now, when I see people, I can't help seeing jaws around their legs, halfway up their thighs. I can't help thinking, who will be the next one?

We've all been together. We are together now. You know the other people here, or most of them.

You like some of them, maybe some not so much. You know where we live. You can see our yards.

You can see the tubs, I think. You know we go there. You know we really try hard to do our prayers.

We really try hard to do something that will help. But we aren't much stronger than that little rabbit. We are halfway dead already.

You can't just leave this place knowing that the person who lives in one yard will die first, and then the second. You will find out from a friend. You know that Diamond Mountain retreat people, one of them died today.

Then there'll be another. You don't want to think about it. It's hard to look around the people around you right now.

It's hard to know we are all half dead. There's almost no hope. We are really trying hard.

It's a very hard thing to do. You have to help us. I will curse you.

With a thought. Now, until tomorrow, every time you see someone, you see them halfway down the open jaws. And the jaws are clamped on them.

Who's going to save anyone? Try to see the jaws tonight, tomorrow. Every time you look at another of the holy, sweet, precious, fragile beings who are with you.

Try to remember. Try to see what's really going on. Some of us seem strong.

Some seem weaker. Some seem older. Some younger.

Some happier. Some more sad. We're all dying.

We're all halfway down. It's very hard to change. It's very hard to help.

But you have to try. You can't just leave us. She didn't just leave the rabbit.

Later, she was bitten by a snake trying to help. She spent two days in the hospital. Other retreatants have done the same thing.

You have to try. This is the reason to learn to see more things. You have to save us.

Oh, I'm just visiting. You're the ones in retreat. No, you have to save us.

We tried. It's hard. Each person, and this is the nature of things, has to save the others.

It's always like that. You have to save us. You can't do it unless you can see the future.

You can't do it unless you can see how many of us there are. You can't do it if you can't even see our world. You can't do it without the help of the divine, holy, sweet, perfect beings who are hovering around us constantly.

You can't do it without seeing higher reality and your past. But if you learn how, you can. You can pull us out of the jaws of death.

It's not too late for anyone here. I never heard of a person who didn't have to die. Don't be like Grandfather Earl.

This is a special time. These are special circumstances. There are special events happening here.

There's special knowledge. There's a special path. People have been on it.

You can learn to do it. But in your heart, you have to have a strong reason. Because it's hard to do.

If you don't have that reason, there's no hope for you. And there's no hope for all of us who are hoping you can help us. Whenever it's hard.

Whenever you think you're not making any progress. Whenever the world is too strong, too much. The demands on your life are too insistent.

Your body getting older. Your mind hardly strong enough to stay on an even keel. Then remember the baby.

Think of the child. Get up off your seat. Go see how you can help.

This will give you the strength you need. Then you can do anything. You can see anything.