The
witness of birth, life and death is one and the same. It is the witness
of pain and of love. For while the existence in limitation and separation
is sorrowful, we love it. We love it and hate it at the same time. We fight,
we kill, we destroy life and property and
yet we are affectionate and self-sacrificing. We nurse the child tenderly
and orphan it too. Our life is full of contradictions. Yet
we cling to it. This clinging is at the root of everything. Still, it is
entirely superficial. We hold on to something or somebody
with all our might
and next moment we forget it; like a child that shapes its mud-pies and
abandons them light-heatedly. Tough them
- it will scream with anger, divert the child and he forgets them. For
our life is now, and the love of it is now. We love variety,
the play of pain and pleasure, we are fascinated by contrasts. For this
we need the opposites and their apparent separation.
We enjoy them for a time and then get tired and crave for the peace and
silence of pure being.