Let 2017 be a walk through the Belly of the Buddha

2016 came and went. With it, came and went - good, bad, wondrous, ugly. So much to be thankful for, so much to put in that amnesia bin.

2017 is here. I stand at its entrance, in curiosity and resolve, in optimism and trepidation. Uncertain almost, if I want to take charge, and steer the course ahead with resolve; or allow things to happen as they will.

Suddenly, I am reminded of a recent Fall day at the Kiyomizu-dera shrine in Kyoto, Japan.

The Japanese maples, resplendent in their fall colors, hang gracefully against the shrine. Decorating the ancient buildings with hues of green, orange, red and golden, glistening in the crisp autumn sun.  

The little alley, leading to the shrine, filled with stores is in a busy bustle. Yet there is something peaceful about the shrine ahead. It seems to stand (and has stood for years) with a certain wisdom and steadfastness that doesn’t get distracted by technology, or life’s changing, quickening pace.

Standing at the brink of 2017, reminds me of the Belly of the Buddha or tour through the womb of Zuigu-Bosatsu, at Kiyomizu-dera shrine.

We stand at its entrance in hesitation. It looks like a dark cave/alley ahead. We enter and darkness descends. Pitch black darkness.

“Mom, I can’t see a thing,” shouts a voice behind me.

Our eyes don’t adjust to the darkness. They never do. The entire time that we are in there.

“There’s a railing to the left. Hold on to it,” mom instructs.

The wooden railing is in the shape of beads. Metaphoric? I wonder. Meditation beads? A symbol of faith? Hmm…Should have read that handout before entering.  

We hold on tightly to the railing. It seems to turn and take a course. All we can do is follow the course. In surrender. A lesson in the Buddhist philosophy of surrender.

I awaken to the uneasiness and wonder of it all.

“Mom! Is this thing going to go down? What if it goes down?” questions the voice behind me.

“Just hold on the railing. We’ll be okay,” mom answers, her voice masking all uncertainty.

That is all we can do. That is all we can ever do. In that pitch black, I can’t tell where the walls end – only a foot away, or continue in the infinite. I can’t tell what is out there - in the black. All I can do is hold on to the railing, even when the path turns, perhaps, more tightly so, in a state of suspended surrender.

“Mom, that was the coolest thing ever!!!” exclaims the voice behind me, as we exit.

It was. And now, I draw inspiration from it, to walk through 2017.

Yes, 2017 is here. I stand at its entrance, uncertain almost, if I want to take charge, and steer its course ahead with resolve; or allow things to happen as they will.

Maybe it could be a bit of both – just as in the Belly of the Buddha. Where I have no idea of what will happen next, and surrender to the unknown. Yet, hold on to a railing. Firmly. A railing which stands for strength and optimism and love, and belief there is good, and wonder and kindness, and everything else that matters, and only that which matters.  

Bring it on, 2017. I am willing to surrender in your infinite unknown - in your dark crevices and your brilliant joyousness. For my railing, will be there to take me through. Even if at times, it may feel like a skinny, tired railing, it will continue to be there, so long as I can hold my faith in it, and my belief in the good in it.

No matter how dark or treacherous a corner, I hope I will always remember it is there and remember to hold on to it. Railings, instead of resolutions, this New Year.

Happy 2017!!

Kiyomizu-dera shrine images