Hello, my dear followers. I’m very happy to see more and more people following my blog. I could never imagine that one day my blog will have 88 followers but now it has! 🙂 Thank you all. I’m gonna do everything to make this blog more popular and interesting to people from all age groups. I’m gonna post less about celebrities for example. I relized that these post just say nothing. Nobody cares much if I like Iggy Azalea, Ed Sheeran or some other celebrity. So today I’m gonna talk about my grandparents and Buddhism, too. And to answer a question that maybe can pop in your head – no, I’m not buddhist, I’m just Christian, who really respects Buddhism.
When my mum yesterday gave me Ajahn Brahm’s book “Opening the door of your heart”, at first I thought that it will be something very boring for girl in my age but… I was wrong.This book has written by buddhist monk and it tells about his life’s events and people that he met. It shows new look to everyone’s life, our loved ones and everything else. I even didn’t red half of this book but it already touched my heart and made me think about my life, how I could change it, following thoughts that these stories told. And, of course, right now I found one storie that really made me think more than other ones.
Monk tells about new Australian woman who visited him few years ago in Perth’s monastery. She felt guilty for what she did few months ago. Woman was working in some miner’s village, work was very hard but she got payed well. Only thing – she had nothing to do in her free time. One day she initiated idea that she, her friend and boyfriend could go to a trip to lowland scrub. They did not wanted to go there but woman thought that go there alone would be too boring. She didn’t give up and talked to them until they agreed to go with her. But then happened something bad… Car capsized on road, woman’s young friend died but her boyfriend stayed paralyzed. Although trip was woman’s idea, she was completely fine. When woman come to monk, she said:” I wish, I wouldn’t told them to go to this trip! She would still be alive. He still would be walking. I feel terrible. It’s all my fault.” At first monk thought that he should tell that it’s not her fault, it wasn’t her target to do something bad to her friends. Things just happen. She needs to forget this. But then he thought: “I bet, she heard this hundred times and it probably didn’t help at all.” Monk said that it’s okay to feel guilty, to feel bad for it. Confusion changed sadness in her face but then she looked facilitated. She never heard that it’s okay to feel bad about it. She felt guilty but everyone told her to not think about it. That only made double guilt – about accident and about feeling guilty.
When we already coped first level of guilt and admitted that it’s not bad at all to feel guilty about what happened, we can go to next level – the solution level. What to do? This young woman needed to repent her sins, to free her from guilt. Monk suggested her to take a part of voluntary work in nearest hospital’s rehabilitation division, to help people who suffered in an accidents. He thought that hard work will make her the guilt about her accident feel less.
And now you will say: “Okay, very thoughtful story but why are you talking about it? What it has to do with your life?” Here’s my answer. When I was nine, my grandma (dad’s mother) died from cancer, when I was eleven or twelve years old, my grandpa (mum’s father) died from cancer, too. Different kind of cancer but whatever. If you ask, what I feel guilty here about, I will say: “I think, I never spent enough time with them.” Really. I was so little and never relized how amazing it is to have grandparents (Only exception – if they drink and don’t give a f*ck about you at all. That’s what my other grandfather (dad’s father) did. It was weird to feel nothing, when he died.). Sometimes I was mad to them and now I feel guilty about it because I think that they didn’t even deserve it. I’m growing older and than more times goes after their deaths, than more questions I have that I would like to ask them but I can’t. I wish I would know more about their pasts, about time when I wasn’t even born… Even writing about them in my blog brings tears in my eyes. I can’t say that I love my parents less than my grandparents but… they were still very speacial to me. I remember how grandpa baked pancakes with meat and I could feel that smell in whole apartment. How I and mum came to Riga to visit him, how I and grandpa went to other side of town to visit his sister… How I spent time in grandma’s house, how safe I felt there… I can’t even remember and write here all nice memories but I still have them deep in my mind and heart. Time goes but I only miss them more and more. But, like it was about woman in monk’s book, maybe it’s good to feel sad and to feel guilty a bit.
If I should think about second, solution level… Last night just before falling asleep, idea just popped in my head. I know that my grandparents are dead and I can do nothing about them… But how about donating some money to help cancer patients? I could do that. Maybe not just right now because I’m still a student and I’m not working and earning money but in future… I could do that, right? I already know how it is – to lose someone because of cancer. But I could try, how I can to make number of people, who died from cancer, less.
That’s all for now, people. I have tears in my eyes but still, I’m smiling. 🙂
R.I.P. grandpa and both grandmas.
xoxo, Porcelain Doll.