As of this writing, I have ‘penned’ 112,468 words in this online dharma journal. For a true writer this is not so many words, but I am not a very disciplined scribe. It seems like a lot to me, and I often wonder if there is any value. If I really cared if anyone read this blog, the comment section would be turned on. That is a slippery slope and I think it would not be very beneficial in the long run. Better that I write for an unknown and unseen reader, “cast the bread upon the waters,” and see what happens. As long as my intention is to be of benefit it doesn’t matter if the bread gets a little soggy.

Words are dead when they hit the page anyway. Just as thoughts rise and fade away, a writer’s art is an exercise in futility. This is especially true when one aspires to hint at some of the truths Buddha discovered. I remember Lama Richen saying, “What Buddha realized is free from the game of words.” So why cast these syllables upon the page if they are hollow representations of the buddhamind?

The simple answer is nothing matters except Bodhicitta, the heart/mind of compassion. I have a wish for these words and all words created in the realm of humans. My wish is they become dedicated to the benefit of all beings. Perhaps something of that dedication seeps through the paper or the screen—and that is enough.

One day I will cease to write. I will cease to teach. My time on the planet in this body will come to an end. I would like to think at least one person has benefited from my work. Perhaps a phrase will lighten someone’s suffering for a moment. Maybe a little inspiration will trickle through. If so, that comes through the blessings of all the spiritual teachers in my lineage. May their work continue through the hearts and minds of those who read this journal.

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