Impermanence
While posting in someone else's journal, I was reminded of a documentary about a group of Buddhist monks in Tibet I watched a couple weeks ago. They were lamenting the decay of an ancient fresco, and enlisting the help of a western art historian who specialized in the restoration of frescoes. The fresco in question, though, was so severely damaged that some parts of it would have to be completely recreated in order to be restored.
Here was the cutural divide between the two groups. The westerner respected the original work so much that he felt it would be a violation of the integrity of the piece to recreate the missing pieces, because there were no reference materials and so the restoration would require a total fabrication. The monks, on the other hand, respected the imagery and felt that an incomplete fresco was disrespectful. As each camp vehemently argued their side, I struggled with this conflict, unable to side squarely with either for awhile, until I remembered the concept of impermanence.
All things are temporary, and nothing lasts forever. If we can embrace this concept, we can minimize the suffering caused by loss and decay. This idea comes straight out of buddhism, so it seemed rather curious to me that the monks were having such a hard time letting go of the fresco. They touched on this concept at the end of the documentary, but I don't know that they really pushed it as far as they might have.
Obviously, it's hard to let go of things, especially in a society that says we should remain forever young, that good things can last forever, if we just buy the right products. We don't have an easy time getting around that idea. Well, I don't, and it seems some people I've come across lately don't, as well. Draw it out until the bitter end. Clench your fist tight around the sand of time as it passes through your grip. Or you could just let it go, and open your hand and wait for something else. Loss makes way for opportunity. I've learned that lesson over and over again, and I think it's finally starting to sink in, in some respects anyhow.
This concept reminds me of at least three other stories I wouldn't mind sharing, but I'll cut myself off here. Maybe I'll come back and add them later. Time to get back to work.
While posting in someone else's journal, I was reminded of a documentary about a group of Buddhist monks in Tibet I watched a couple weeks ago. They were lamenting the decay of an ancient fresco, and enlisting the help of a western art historian who specialized in the restoration of frescoes. The fresco in question, though, was so severely damaged that some parts of it would have to be completely recreated in order to be restored.
Here was the cutural divide between the two groups. The westerner respected the original work so much that he felt it would be a violation of the integrity of the piece to recreate the missing pieces, because there were no reference materials and so the restoration would require a total fabrication. The monks, on the other hand, respected the imagery and felt that an incomplete fresco was disrespectful. As each camp vehemently argued their side, I struggled with this conflict, unable to side squarely with either for awhile, until I remembered the concept of impermanence.
All things are temporary, and nothing lasts forever. If we can embrace this concept, we can minimize the suffering caused by loss and decay. This idea comes straight out of buddhism, so it seemed rather curious to me that the monks were having such a hard time letting go of the fresco. They touched on this concept at the end of the documentary, but I don't know that they really pushed it as far as they might have.
Obviously, it's hard to let go of things, especially in a society that says we should remain forever young, that good things can last forever, if we just buy the right products. We don't have an easy time getting around that idea. Well, I don't, and it seems some people I've come across lately don't, as well. Draw it out until the bitter end. Clench your fist tight around the sand of time as it passes through your grip. Or you could just let it go, and open your hand and wait for something else. Loss makes way for opportunity. I've learned that lesson over and over again, and I think it's finally starting to sink in, in some respects anyhow.
This concept reminds me of at least three other stories I wouldn't mind sharing, but I'll cut myself off here. Maybe I'll come back and add them later. Time to get back to work.
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yeah, i have mad social issues as well. i get really uncomfortable and nervous if i am around a lot of people i don't know. i can do ok at shows but they get overwhelming sometimes. it is weird for me too and a lot easier to talk to people online. it is hard though if i am in a situation of meeting someone i have talked to online, it is really hard for me to go up and introduce myself. i am getting better at it but it is still hard sometimes.
have a great day.