Showing posts with label Talking about the Universe with the Insects. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Talking about the Universe with the Insects. Show all posts

27.8.12

Talking about the Universe with the Insects


Spending time in the forest cleanses the mind. The sound of leaves
rustling in the wind, the sound of the wind blowing through the
reeds, the sound of frogs croaking in the ponds: All you can hear
are the sounds of nature; no extraneous thoughts enter the mind. If you empty your mind and receive nature into your entire being, there is no separation between you and nature. Nature comes into you, and you become completely one with nature. In the moment that the boundary between you and nature disappears, you feel a profound sense of joy.
Then nature becomes you, and you become nature.
I have always treasured such experiences in my life. Even now, I close my eyes and enter a state in which I am one with nature. Some refer to this as anātman, or “not-self,” but to me it is more than that, because nature
enters and settles into the place that has been made empty. While
in that state, I listen to the sounds that nature hands to me—the sounds
of the pine trees, the sounds of the bugs—and we become friends. I
could go to a village and know, without meeting anyone, the disposition
of the minds of the people living there. I would go into the meadow
of the village and spend the night there, then listen to what the crops
in the fields would tell me. I could see whether the crops were sad or
happy and that would tell me the kind of people who lived there.
The reason I could be in jail in South Korea and the United States,
and even North Korea, and not feel lonely and isolated is that even in
jail I could hear the sound of the wind blowing and talk to the bugs that
were there with me.
You may ask, “What do you talk about with bugs?” Even the
smallest grain of sand contains the principles of the world, and even
a speck of dust floating in the air contains the harmony of the universe.
Everything around us was given birth through a combination
of forces so complex we cannot even imagine it. These forces are
closely related to each other. Nothing in the universe was conceived
outside the heart of God. The movement of just one leaf holds within it
the breathing of the universe.
From childhood, I have had a gift of being able to resonate with
the sounds of nature as I roam around the hills and meadows. Nature
creates a single harmony and produces a sound that is magnificent
and beautiful. No one tries to show off and no one is ignored; there
is just a supreme harmony. Whenever I found myself in difficulty,
nature comforted me; whenever I collapsed in despair, it raised me
back up. Children these days are raised in urban areas and don’t
have opportunities to become familiar with nature, but developing
sensitivity to nature is actually more important than developing our
knowledge. What is the purpose of providing a university education
to a child who cannot feel nature in his bosom and whose sensitivities
are dull? The person separated from nature can gather book
knowledge here and there and then easily become an individualistic
person who worships material goods.
We need to feel the difference between the sound of spring rain falling
like a soft whisper and that of the autumn rain falling with pops
and crackles. It is only the person who enjoys resonance with nature
who can be said to have a true character. A dandelion blooming by
the side of the road is more precious than all the gold in the world. We
need to have a heart that knows how to love nature and love people.
Anyone who cannot love nature or love people is not capable of loving
God. Everything in creation embodies God at the level of symbol, and
human beings are substantial beings created in the image of God. Only
a person who can love nature can love God.
I did not spend all my time roaming the hills and meadows and playing.
I also worked hard helping my older brother run the farm. On a
farm there are many tasks that must be done during a particular season.
The rice paddies and fields need to be plowed. Rice seedlings need to be
transplanted, and weeds need to be pulled. When one is pulling weeds,
the most difficult task is to weed a field of millet. After the seeds are
planted, the furrows need to be weeded at least three times, and this
is backbreaking work. When we were finished, we couldn’t straighten
our backs for awhile. Sweet potatoes don’t taste very good if they are
planted in clay. They need to be planted in a mixture of one-third clay
and two-thirds sand if they are going to produce the best-tasting sweet
potatoes. For corn, human excrement was the best fertilizer, so I would
take my hands and break up all the solid excrement into small pieces.
By helping out on the farm, I learned what was needed to make beans
grow well, what kind of soil was best for soybeans, and what soil was
best for red beans. I am a farmer’s farmer.
Pyong-an Province was among the first places in Korea to accept
Christian culture, so farmland was already arranged in straight lines in
the 1930s and 1940s. To transplant rice seedlings, we would take a pole
with twelve equally spaced markings to indicate where the rows would
go and lay it across the width of the paddy. Then two people would
move along the pole, each planting six rows of seedlings. Later, when I
came to the southern part of Korea, I saw that they would put a string
across the paddy and have dozens of people splashing around in there.
It seemed like a very inefficient way of doing it. I would spread my legs
to twice the width of my shoulders so I could plant the seedlings more
quickly. During the rice-planting season, I was able to earn enough
money to at least cover my own tuition.