old-path-white-clouds-thich-nhat-hanh

Chapter Twenty-Five
Music’s Lofty Peaks
The Buddha had traveled the road from Varanasi to Rajagaha before. He walked slowly and enjoyed the surrounding forests and rice
fields. Towards noon, he stopped to beg in a small hamlet by the roadside. He then entered the forest to eat quietly, and then did walking
meditation right there. When he was finished, he sat beneath a shady tree to meditate. He enjoyed being alone in the forest. After he had
meditated for some hours, a group of well-dressed young men passed by, obviously agitated over something. Several of them clutched
musical instruments. The young man at the head of their party bowed his head to greet the Buddha and then asked, “Monk, did you see a
girl run by here?”
The Buddha asked, “Why do you wish to find her?”
The young man recounted their story from the beginning. They were from the city of Varanasi and had entered the forest that morning on
a pleasure outing, bringing with them their musical instruments and a young woman to entertain them. When they had finished singing,
dancing, and feasting, they stretched out on the forest floor to take a nap. But when they awoke, they discovered that the young girl had
stolen their jewelry and disappeared. They had been chasing after her ever since.
The Buddha looked calmly at the young men and asked, “Tell me, friends, is it better in this moment to find the young woman or to find
your own selves?”
The young men were startled. The Buddha’s radiant appearance and his unusual question brought them back to themselves. The first
young man answered, “Respected Teacher, perhaps we should try to find ourselves first.”
The Buddha said, “Life can be found only in the present moment, but our minds rarely dwell in the present moment. Instead we chase
after the past or long for the future. We think we are being ourselves, but in fact we almost never are in real contact with ourselves. Our
minds are too busy chasing after yesterday’s memories or tomorrow’s dreams. The only way to be in touch with life is to return to the
present moment. Once you know how to return to the present moment, you will become awakened, and at that moment, you will find your
true self.
“Look at these tender leaves caressed by the sunlight. Have you ever really looked at the green of the leaves with a serene and
awakened heart? This shade of green is one of the wonders of life. If you have never really looked at it, please do so now.”
The young men grew very quiet. With their eyes following the Buddha’s pointing finger, each of them looked at the green leaves gently
swaying in the afternoon breeze. A moment later, the Buddha turned to the youth sitting on his right and said, “I see you have a flute. Please
play something for us.”
The youth felt shy, but he lifted his flute to his lips and began to play. Everyone listened attentively. The flute’s sound was like the
lamenting cry of a disappointed lover. The Buddha’s eyes did not waver from the young man playing the flute. When he finished his song,
sadness seemed to veil the afternoon forest. Still no one spoke, until suddenly the young man held out his flute to the Buddha and said,
“Respected Monk, please play for us.”
The Buddha smiled, as several of the young men burst out laughing, taking their friend for a real fool. Who ever heard of a monk playing
the flute? But to their surprise, the Buddha took the flute in his hands. The young men all turned their eyes to the Buddha, unable to mask
their curiosity. The Buddha took several deep breaths, and then raised the flute to his lips.
The image of a young man playing the flute long ago in the royal gardens of Kapilavatthu arose in the Buddha’s mind. It was a full moon
night. He could see Mahapajapati sitting on a stone bench quietly listening. And there was Yasodhara with her freshly lit incense holder of
fragrant sandalwood. The Buddha began to play the flute.
The sound was as delicate as a thin strand of smoke curling gently from the roof of a simple dwelling outside Kapilavatthu at the hour of
the evening meal. Slowly the thin strand expanded across space like a gathering of clouds which in turn transformed into a thousandpetalled
lotus, each petal a different shimmering color. It seemed that one flutist suddenly had become ten thousand flutists, and all the
wonders of the universe had been transformed into sounds—sounds of a thousand colors and forms, sounds as light as a breeze and quick
as the pattering of rain, clear as a crane flying overhead, intimate as a lullaby, bright as a shining jewel, and subtle as the smile of one who
has transcended all thoughts of gain and loss. The birds of the forest stopped singing in order to listen to this sublime music, and even the
breezes ceased rustling the leaves. The forest was enveloped in an atmosphere of total peace, serenity, and wonder. The young men sitting
around the Buddha felt completely refreshed, and they now dwelled completely in the present moment, in touch with all the wonders of the
trees, the Buddha, the flute, and each other’s friendship. Even after the Buddha put the flute down, they could still hear the music. Not one
of the young men thought about the young woman or the jewels she had stolen.