In the temple under the twilight, I sat alone, looking around to find very few visitors. As the wind blew, the iron horses in the temple rang with a long, hollow sound, further enhancing the tranquility. In such stillness, the passions of love and hate within my heart gradually calmed, like a clear spring, allowing me to breathe once more. One can only see their true nature by enlightening the mind; only by reflecting upon one's heart can one calmly observe the bonds that entangle them.
A person's life can be altered by another, even leading them to change their very habits. This might be seen as a surrender of self, yet it can also be viewed as a pursuit of self. For once one understands the meaning they seek in life, they become inseparable from it. The Buddha said: "Let go of the ego." But what about letting go of *her*? What meaning does she hold in one's life? While the trajectory of life may change because of her, once the connection is lost, everything remains merely a hollow thought. "All phenomena arise from causes and conditions." Love is born of karma and ends because of it. Whether sentient or insentient, there is no need for debate, for once the heart wanders, love loses its original meaning.
Life is unpredictable and eventually fades away. All gatherings and partings are like rain and wind, swaying helplessly. Amidst the mortal world, I use only a sincere heart to feel deeply; I know that only a sincere heart can bring true life and serve as proof that this brief existence is not lived in vain. Yet, when another heart has drifted away in indifference, attachment is but a withered leaf cast into the void, falling silently in the cold. As it is said, "thoughts arise and perish"; all things are in a state of constant flux, with no eternal entity to grasp. All birth and death are illusions; what we cling to out of delusion as "existing" is, in truth, neither existing nor non-existing.
The Buddha spoke of the Eight Sufferings: the suffering of birth, old age, sickness, death, separation from loved ones, meeting with those one dislikes, not getting what one seeks, and the suffering of the five aggregates. In this world of five turbidities, many suffer from the agony of ignorance, and love is often the most piercing wound. Love, holding hands, parting, and betrayal—these stories weave the complex tapestry of the mortal world. Fleeting moments of joy can turn into blades, ruthlessly striking the soul. Lamentations blend into the noises of the world, and to escape this sea of suffering, people turn to worship, seeking peace through devotion. Yet the Buddha, who held up the flower, smiles—a mystery behind that smile that can never be fathomed.
If the mortal world holds no permanent reality, how many partings and reunions must one witness in a brief lifetime? Since nothing is eternal, the pursuit of eternity becomes the seed of suffering; yet I understand that life congeals through pain. The meaning of our search may fall silent for a time, leading us into deep confusion, but if we have no intention of leaving this mortal realm, we must continue to seek within this sea of suffering. Although the nature of all things is emptiness and attachment is unnecessary, one must still maintain a sincere heart. Only such a heart prevents us from losing ourselves and keeps life from becoming frivolous, ensuring it retains its rightful weight.
For this is the mortal world—the only mortal world we have in this single lifetime.
