Burn dogmas down, so you can see past them
A Zen poem can say a lot in a few words. This one is from Mizuta Masahide.
Barn's burnt down --
now
I can see the moon.
Alternate translation:
Since my house burned down
I now own a better view
of the rising moon
l came across the poem in James Austin's book, "Meditating Selflessly." Some commentary from Austin:
It is tragic to lose one's barn in a fire. Thereafter, deprived of possessions, one could feel impoverished and hard-pressed to survive. Instead, we discover this poet who is undaunted, buoyant. Why?
Now he can see the moon rise. It fills the empty space where his own barn once stood and obscured the sky above the horizon. Liberated by his loss, he is free to bathe in the serenity of moonlight.
Religious dogmas are one of our (many) thought-barns/houses. We construct them, then dwell in them as if they were real.
When they suit us, they're OK to keep standing. But when a barn burns down that isn't needed any more, we should be happy that a space has been cleared.
Truth enters in, when falsehood departs.
