It's like a mandate.
An imperative.
It has never weakened over the years ... even now, when times get weaker.
I hesitate to mention it for fear that someone might think it was "good," but it leaves me curious: Where the hell did that come from? I honestly don't know.
This morning I got one of those out-of-the-blue emails from a woman snooping the edges of Buddhism. For no particular reason (she didn't write anything unusual), I assumed she was a grown-up and not just a teenager who was down-hearted after breaking up with some special friend... someone who would forget about an interest in Buddhism as soon as a more immediate sense of relief -- a TV show or A on a paper or some new friend -- entered her life.
But even if she had been someone looking for solve-all fairy dust, still it would have risen up, as sure as a case of farts after a plate of baked beans ... an imperative to answer, to help as best I might. It's not a matter of trying to convince anyone (yo! Buddhism is the first-est with the best-est!) ... it has something to do with humanity and seriousing up and this-is-important all wrapped in some not-quite-explicable ball within. When someone asks me personally, then, somehow, I must.
Where the hell did that come from?
Over time, I have tried to train myself away from the professional neurotics and I am mildly relieved that no one shows up to sit on Sundays and I can hear the spiritually- and psychologically-adroit sharpening their knives of explanation ... but still ....
Where the hell did that come from?
I honestly don't know.
But sure as God made little green apples, it's a fact.
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