When death finally comes you will welcome it like an old friend, being aware of how dreamlike and impermanent the pheneomenal world really is.
Dilgo Khyentse RinpocheRead
Love and nonattachment are the basis of true generosity.
Interpretation
True generosity stems from love and the ability to remain unattached to outcomes.
This quote by Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche emphasizes that genuine generosity arises from a place of love rather than obligation or attachment. When we are not attached to the results of our actions, we can give freely and selflessly, allowing our generosity to flourish unobstructed by expectations or conditions.
In practice
During a charity event, one might say this quote to inspire donations and volunteerism.
When death finally comes you will welcome it like an old friend, being aware of how dreamlike and impermanent the pheneomenal world really is.
Sentient beings, self and others, enemies and dear ones-all are made by thoughts. It is like seeing a rope and mistaking it for a snake. When we think that the rope is a snake, we are scared, but once we see that we are looking at a rope, our fear dissipates. We have been deluded by our thoughts. Likewise, mentally fabricating self and others, we generate attachment and aversion.
We live under threat from painful emotions: anger, desire, pride, jealousy and so on. Therefore we should always be ready to counter these with the appropriate antidote. True practitioners may be recognized by their unfailing mindfulness.
To go beyond samsara and nirvana, we will need _x000D_ the two wings of emptiness and compassion. _x000D_ From now on, let us use these two wings _x000D_ to fly fearlessly into the sky of the life to come.
To feel overflowing love and almost unbearable compassion for all living creatures is the best way to fulfil the wishes of all the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas. Even if for the moment you cannot actually help a sentient being in an external way, meditate on love and compassion constantly over the months and years until compassion is knit inseparably into the very fabric of your mind.
Life is fragile, like the dew hanging delicately on the grass, crystal drops that will be carried away on the first morning breeze.
I must be cruel only to be kind; Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind.
Their silence comfortable. Something unfolding. But what? Not love, which wrenched and wounded. Not love, which came only once.
This is love: to fly toward a secret sky
Be soulful. Be kind. Be in love.
How can so much beauty hide such a bruised and steely heart, and why must I love him, why must I lean in my weariness upon his irresistible yet indomitable strength? Is he not the wizend funeral spirit of a dead man in a child's clothes?
Make no mistake: I love women. I'm married to one, I was birthed by one, and I played one in my high school production of 'Romeo and Juliet.' No one else could fit into the bodice.
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