Todayand#8217;s FBA Dharmabyte is a tribute to Amitabha by Saddhaloka titled: and#8220;Verses to Amitabhaand#8221;. Saddhaloka introduces us to Amitabha, the red Buddha of the West who represents and inspires the highest love of alland#8230; by sharing an invocation to Amitabha written by Lama Govinda and published in and#8220;The Way of the White Cloudsand#8221;. This track is from the the fourth talk in a six-part series on the figures on the Wheel of Life titled simply and#8220;Amitabha.and#8221;
Talk given at Padmaloka Retreat Centre, winter retreat, 1997
[music] Dharma Vites is brought to you by Free Buddhist Audio, the Dharma for real life. Our work is funded entirely by donations from our generous listeners. If you would like to help us keep this free, come and join us at freebuddhistaudio.com/community. Thank you and happy listening. [music] So Amitabha, Amitabha, his name means "infamous light". There's also a reflex of Amitabha, as it were another aspect of him called Amitayas, who is known as "infinite life". So, in Amitabha, as it were, we have infinity, infinity extending in space, infinite light, infinity extending in time, infinite life. Infinite time and infinite space are reflected in Amitabha. Amitabha dwells in the West, he's the Buddha of the West. So, for a European, the West has a number of definite connotations. To the West is the Atlantic, this great expanse of sea that can seem to extend into infinity. It's the direction of the setting sun, the setting sun which sinks into the sea. To travel West is to travel into the unknown. It involves a journey into the unknown, a journey into new frontiers. A journey that can be dangerous, that one might never return from. Go West, young man, go West. But wherever in the world we come from, the West is the direction of the setting sun. And with the setting sun we have the mood of evening, the mood of sunset. That time, when a quite magical mood can settle on the earth after the busyness of the day, suddenly there's a certain stillness that can seem to descend. Just at this time of sunset, everything can seem to become quiet and peaceful. It's the end of the busyness of the day. It's time to rest, to come back to ourselves. Time to weigh up a sense, to prepare for a new beginning. Very often we will think of the sunset, of the sun setting into the sea. And in Bantu, Sankarakshita's vision of Anitava, that he had in his early days as a wonderer in the very Paksa cave at Tiruvamani, when he was staying with Ramanam Harshi. He saw in his vision the sun setting into the sea. So the sun setting into the sea, we might think it might conjure up images of associations of the light of consciousness, the sun meeting the unconscious depths of the sea. A meeting of light and mysterious depth and darkness. The heights and the depths actually coming together with the setting sun, of this mood, of sunset and evening. And with that there are the associations with the mood of meditation. It was again the end of the busyness, this time to come back to ourselves, with the busyness of the day over. A time to recollect ourselves, a time to bring the light of our awareness, and with it begin to explore to the depths of our unconscious. And Anitava sits in the mood of meditation, his hands arrest, likely one in the other, the thumbs jingly meeting. And just this mood, this gesture again, it's one of great beauty, great poise, great stones, with the hands just so lightly delicately resting together. At the same time, there's this sense of completeness, of a circle completed, of the arms, the head, the hands, all together as a circle. Something completes, something integrates, something home. So great beauty is a very simple gesture of meditation. And that is the beauty of a sunset, that tremendous richness of the setting sun. It's not a dull red, there's a fiery richness to that setting sun, that seems to draw us in. It seems a universal custom amongst human beings around the world. Now that they'll be stopped by the sunset, people will stop and gaze at the sunset, and at the beauty of that blazing redness, as it sinks below the horizon. A time to stop, a time to gaze, a time just to be with the present moment, with that incredible richness, with that fleeting passing beauty, which is always unique, every sunset is different. The configuration of the clouds, just the way it all comes together. It's a sunset, but every time there's something different, there's something unique about the sunset. So yes, the sun, which earlier in the day might have seemed fiery, through a burning, even harsh in some parts of the world. At the time of the sunset, it becomes gentle, inviting, its beauty invites us in. Previously, earlier in the day, we might have had to hide from the sun, it might have sort of bent us with its heat and strength, but now, at this time of day, at the time of Amitabha, at the time of the evening, it becomes gentle, beautiful, inviting. And red, this ruby red, this rich, rich red of the setting sun, it's a colour that we associate with the heart, with emotions, with blood, with life, with vitality. And Amitabha is associated with a great depth of emotional richness. He's associated particularly with metal, with love and with compassion. He's the head of the lotus family. He sits on a red lotus, an abelokiteshra, the great bodhisattva, of compassion. It's his chief son. So Amitabha sits on this beautiful red lotus. And in Banti's vision, Sengarakshita's vision, Amitabha, rather than sitting in meditation, actually holds up a red lotus in his right hand. So the lotus is in the Buddhist tradition, a great symbol of spiritual unfoldment. And the lotus, as we heard in an earlier talk, it grows in the mud. It grows out of the depths of the mud and the filth at the bottom of a pool, maybe even a very dirty, stagnant half-stagnant pool. The lotus grows up. It grows up from the mud. It's roots remaining in the mud. But it grows up through the water and into the sunshine, so that out of the mud and still rooted in it, emerges something of exquisite beauty and exquisite delicacy. The lotus opens in response to certain conditions, to the moisture, to the jint, to the warmth of the sun. It can't be rushed. If you try and pry open a lotus or try and pry open it, the bud of any flower, you actually destroy that beauty. It has to unfold in its own time. And so too, in our own spiritual life, we have to respond to the warmth of the dawn, respond to the warmth of metal and of friendship. And we have to allow our songs and others to unfold in their own time. And at the same time, we can do all we can to ensure that those conditions of warmth, of moisture, their spiritual equivalents are there, so that those unfoldent can take place as fully and completely as possible. We hope you enjoyed the talk. Please come and help us keep this free at freebuddhistaudio.com/community. And thank you. [MUSIC] [BLANK_AUDIO]
