Broken

The gazing globe broke. While pulling weeds nearby, the gazing ball toppled off its stand and smashed into smithereens.

Gone. This is a concept I have been struggling with since I was 4 years old. We came home from vacation to find our gazing ball broken. How could that have happened? Broken. Gone.

A novice monk cleaning the room of Thai Forest master Ajaan Chah asked the master why he had such a beautiful cup. After all, monks are ascetics with extremely few possessions. "I see the cup as already broken," Ajaan Chah replied.

So far, every gazing globe that I have called "mine" has broken. This is what gazing globes do. They break. Every mug in my kitchen will eventually break. Every piece of furniture in my home. Even the house itself.

We, like any 4-year-old, would prefer to believe in stability, in un-change-ing-ness. But that is not what really happens.

Lift your eyes. Let them rest on the nearest object, perhaps your nearest and dearest. Seeing that object as already broken, can you love it to pieces right now?

Photos from cobblestonegardensandmarket.com and amazon.com