Weeping Buddha

Y'all have been wondering what happened to me... Life. We hit the ground running. We arrived back in CA about two and a half weeks ago. The kids did Bible School at my parent's church with their cousins, we swam daily and squeezed all the fun we could every second of the two weeks we had before school began.



I did finally get confirmation that I am teaching at DeAnza College - thankfully. And it looks like they intend to keep me. My term starts Sept. 21. I have some time but am madly trying to assemble a syllabus and select texts for my class. (I am teaching Western Civ. 1350 to 1750)



Tuesday was the big day for the girls and Wednesday was for Ramsey. School started. They are all enjoying their teachers and classes. They are all thankful to be at the schools they will remain in while we live in California (no more changes)! They were so excited and nervous that we had lots up upset tummies Monday night. But thankfully our home teacher came by and gave each of the children and me a blessing before the school year commences. It did help calm things significantly.



Labor Day weekend is coming. I will avoid posting too much but will say that I have been harassed, yelled at and inundated by the children's father. I wish that he would just be kind to them and leave me alone... But regardless, it will be over in three days.



I actually want to share something that speaks to me... this is an excerpt of how I phrased it in an email to a friend: the Weeping Buddha.



The legend of the Weeping Buddha is essentially a tale riddled with deep tragedy. As a warrior, Prince Siddhartha Gautama went off to fight battles and obtain glory - he thus spent years away from his family. Eventually, upon his journey home he encountered a young and confident warrior with whom he engaged in battle. Siddhartha was of course victorious and killed his enemy. Once the conflict was over, he saw this enemy's face for the first time. It was his son... Siddhartha laid down his armor and weapons and dropped to the ground weeping. He vowed to only embark on a peaceful existence - ergo a Prince becomes the Buddha.



The traditional stance of the Buddha is of course the lotus position, the Weeping Buddha is this, but with him crumpled up into his own lap, sobbing.

This story speaks to me - I know that at some juncture in this mortal life each one of us is put in this state... some tragedy, some loss that generates unspeakable pain. -Something that hits us so deeply, so profoundly that it is the catalyst for immeasurable change. We started as one person but emerge as another. For me, this was my divorce - for my sister it was when her first son died... In the end we are never who we were. And our lives mean more and our capacity is greater because of it.

And while on the surface this connotes tragedy, in truth it is beauty. It is the 'refiners fire' or the working 'atonement.' It is that which allows us to become the Buddha. The Peace Seeker, if you will. I know that I have joy in my life and peace in my heart. I am centered and happy - and have so much more compassion than before. I am at once more vulnerable and stronger. And this is because of the 'great tragedy' in my life - which looking back on, I am profoundly grateful for...

Actually, when I was in the Caribbean in July I happened into an import shop, where I descried a small, immaculately formed Weeping Buddha - I brought it home with me. (I attached a web image of a Weeping Buddha - I don't have a picture of the one I acquired.) Because in truth, the story means more to me now then it could possibly have meant before. It is sacred to me.