This is my last installment from "Eat, Pray, Love" for a while as I have finished reading the book and though I plan to read it again, I am beginning a new journey...a hero's journey, with "The Hero Within". More on that book in later posts, for sure.
For now, I am sharing an excerpt from "Eat, Pray, Love" that really inspired to me look at myself, to look at my teaching and even to the people in my life...looking for dust and for opportunities to dislodge the dust.
'Dust', as it's used here, can best be defined as deception, that which prevents us from seeing clearly, as illusion or distortion. Dust keeps us stuck in place, prevents us from progressing, stunts our growth.
Buddhist lore has a story about the moment that followed Buddha's transcendence into enlightenment. When--after 39 days of meditation--the veil of illusion finally fell away and the true workings of the universe were revealed to the great master, he was reported to have opened his eyes and said immediately, "This cannot be taught."
But then he changed his mind, decided that he would go out into the world, after all, and attempt to teach the practice of meditation to a small handful of students. He knew there would only be a meager percentage of people who would be served by (or interested in) his teachings.
Most of humanity, he said, have eyes that are so caked shut with the dust of deception they will never see the truth, no matter who tries to help them. A few others are so naturally clear-eyed and calm already that they need no instruction or assistance whatsoever.
But then there are those whose eyes are just slightly caked with dust, and who might, with the help of the right master, be taught to see more clearly someday. The Buddha decided he would become a teacher for the benefit of that minority--"For those of little dust..."
I can say with relative certainty that I am one of little dust--I certainly don't have eyes caked shut but am no where close to 'seeing clearly'...as if. In fact, I am prone to frequent dust storms and often have to blink several times to see clearly through the debris before I realize that I am viewing the world through a dirty lens.