02.11 刘墉:放下.放空.放平.放心.放手

这是我多年前写的《小沙弥》的故事,有些言外之意:碰上难以抵抗的灾难,先屈就,把自己放空、放平,等待春天的来到。配上新画的插图和英译,与大家共勉!

《放下.放空.放平.放心.放手》

新来的小沙弥,对什么都好奇。秋天,禅院里红叶飞舞,小沙弥跑去问师父:「红叶这么美,为什么会掉呢?」

师父一笑:「因为冬天来了,树撑不住那么多叶子,只好舍。这不是『放弃』,是『放下』!」

冬天来了,小沙弥看见师兄们把院子里的水缸扣过来,又跑去问师父:「好好的水,为什么要倒掉呢?」


刘墉:放下.放空.放平.放心.放手

师父笑笑:「因为冬天冷,水结冻膨胀,会把缸撑破,所以要倒干净。这不是『真空』,是『放空』!」

大雪纷飞,厚厚地,一层又一层,积在几棵盆栽的龙柏上,师父跟小沙弥合力把盆搬倒,让树躺下来。小沙弥又不解了,急着问:「龙柏好好的,为什么弄倒?」


刘墉:放下.放空.放平.放心.放手

师父脸一整:「谁说好好的?你没见雪把柏叶都压塌了吗?再压就断了。那不是『放倒』,是『放平』,为了保护它,教它躺平休息休息,等雪霁再扶起来。」

天寒,加上全球金融危机,香油收入少多了,连小沙弥都紧张,跑去问师父怎么办?

「少你吃?少你穿了吗?」师父瞪一眼:「数数!柜里还挂了多少衣服?柴房里还堆了多少柴?仓房里还积了多少土豆?别想没有的,想想还有的;苦日子总会过去,春天总会来到。你要放心。『放心』不是『不用心』,是把心安顿。」

春天果然跟着来了,大概因为冬天的雪水特别多,春花漫烂,更胜往年,前殿的香火也渐渐恢复往日的盛况。师父要出远门了,小沙弥追到山门:「师父您走了,我们怎么办?」


刘墉:放下.放空.放平.放心.放手

师父笑着挥挥手:「你们能放下、放空、放平、放心,我还有什么不能放手的呢?」

放,不是放弃、不是放任、不是放恣、不是放纵、不是放逐。

不曾拿起,怎么放下?

不曾拥有,怎么放空?

不曾独立,怎么放平?

不曾挂念,怎么放心?

不曾抓紧,怎么放手?

有收才能放,有放才能收!

Little monk is new to the temple and curious about everything.

It’s autumn. Red foliage flutters in the zen garden. Little monk asks Master, “These leaves are so beautiful, but why do they fall?”

Master smiles. “Winter is coming, the tree can’t hold on to so many leaves, so it must choose. The tree doesn’t give up, so it must choose to let go.”

It’s winter. Curious monk sees elder monks turning over the cisterns one by one. He asks Master, “There’s still good water in many of them, why must we pour the water out?

Master smiles. “Because when the water freezes, it will crack the tanks. To save them for the future, we should unload them now.”

A blizzard comes, sweeping piles of thick snow onto the junipers. Master asks the little monk to help him tip the potted saplings over.

The little monk is confused. “Aren’t saplings supposed to stand straight? Why lie them down?”

Master replied seriously: “Don’t you see how the snow is weighing them down? By laying them down, we are protecting them. We give them a rest, so they may stand after the snow.”

The winter is harsh and long, and with a global recession, the temple’s offering box is running empty. Even the little monk is looking to the Master anxiously. Master returns a glance.

“Have you been eating or wearing less?” Master replies. “Go see for yourself, how many clothes are there in the closet? How many piles of firewood are there in the shed? How many bags of potatoes are there in the barn? Stop thinking about what we don’t have, and think about what we do have; the hard times will pass, and spring will come. You need to let go of your worries, by being more mindful of what you have. This will calm your heart.”

Spring did indeed arrive, and the thawing snow made for even more blossoms than last year. Worshippers returned, and the offering box is full again. It is then that Master sets off on a very long journey. Little monk runs up to him at the mountain gate. “Master! When you are gone, what are we to do?”

Master smiles and waves his hand. “You have already learned how to let go, to unload, to rest up and to calm down. Why should I not be rest assured?”

Letting go is not letting alone. It’s not to abandon and it’s not giving up. It doesn’t indulge with abandon, nor does it abandon through rejection.

If you’ve learned to pick up, you must also learn to put down.

If you’ve learned to acquire, you must also learn to unload.

If you’ve learned to strive, you must also learn to rest.

If you’ve learned to care, you must also learn to trust.

If you’ve learned to hold on, you must also learn to let go.

Just as you need to take in order to give, you must give in order to take.


分享到:


相關文章: