Oceanic Journeys

Series: The Summer of the Ocean

Oceanic Journeys

A Tale Inspired by the Great Perfection

For a very long time, I knew nothing but the island on wich I lived. My world consisted of the narrow streets of a village nestled in the middle of the island. I loved nothing more than walking the same inland trails over and over again. I knew the other islanders so well! And I held no secrets from them. We loved getting together to tell the stories that had lulled us since childhood and would stay with us forever. And the round dances! And the refrains! And the deliciously numbing mead!

Of course, there was the harbor… Of course, we saw sailboats cruising toward an endless horizon… When the ocean was out of sight, proud albatrosses reminded us of its presence. But all of this was worrying… disturbing… it was a bit “ too much ”… It was full of disorder… even chaos… In hindsight, all this water had the advantage of keeping us away from the other islands!

Everything changed the day my beloved great-great-uncle died. The disappearance of this honorable member of the community—a mead distiller to the core — opened a chasm in my pretty little world. Nothing seemed to be able to fill it. With it crept the idea that the comfort of this island was the most uncertain of things. I realized that I, like everything born, would one day have to die. It was then that I stopped avoiding the ocean. On the contrary, I plunged my gaze into the hypnotic dance of its waves. I contemplated it when it mirrored the blazes of the setting sun or the perfect circle of the full moon. Its scintillations taught me that my identity as an islander was the most ephemeral of things. Its unfathomable depths taught me that the cylce of births and deaths came from an unborn and incessant space. Who was I? Was I John, Scheherazade, Sudhana or Galadriel? What was the meaning of these labels? Why did I want to bottle the ocean?

 “(…) Everything is there, everything is complete, everything is primordially pure and perfect in this ocean of emptiness-luminosity.” 

Then one day, I left. Much to the dismay of my loved ones, I took a simple cutter [1] and set sail for the open sea, which I had once feared. From island to island, my voyages led me to discover other worlds: lands of tyranny or wonders, landscapes of fire, gold, and blood. I encountered other humans with customs so different from what I was accustomed to. I visited colleges of magic and citadels carved into the rock. I also encountered all sorts of marine animals. Sometimes my skiff encountered beluga whales or majestic turtles. During my stopovers, I discovered all sorts of species completely unknown to my native island, such as rhinoceroses and unicorns. How does the mischievous bat that flew over me during a stop in the Vampire Archipelago see the world? Do we live in exactly the same reality? My perceptions became increasingly acute. I came to see other beings, rarely recognized by humans. I encountered dragon kings, hungry ghosts, beings living the agony of hell, but also titans and even gods. I saw that they were constantly being reborn and dying. They became – for example – kings, then slaves, then centaurs, then lions and so on. They were constantly changing their condition without understanding anything about the whirlwind in which they were caught. They lived – and I with them – a thousand torments in this ocean of suffering.

Today, I landed on an island where a strange character lives. He is small in stature, with a slightly green complexion and pointed ears. He wears a strange coat and leans on a cane, bent slightly forward. I walk toward him. I have the feeling that I have been looking for him my entire ocean journey. At the same time, it is as if he has been there from the beginning. He seems perfectly elusive and deeply warm. As if he were very close and very far away at the same time. I speak to him. Who is he? He does not answer. Either he does not understand me or he does not want to answer. A silence falls. It lasts an instant or an eternity. Who are you? Still not a word. Now, I no longer feel any urgency or even the slightest movement towards anything. He smiles at me. He points to his heart and then to mine. Everything is there, everything is complete, everything is primordially pure and perfect in this ocean of emptiness-luminosity. 

“ The primordial, luminous nature of the mind is self-arisen primordial wisdom, empty and clear. By nature, it is empty like space, yet its character is luminous like the sun and moon. And the radiance of its cognitive potency manifests unceasingly and unobstructedly like the surface of a limpiditly clear mirror, free from stain.” [2]

With a heart filled with gratitude, I return to my island. It was right next door! After traveling so far, I have returned so close to my starting point. When I disembark, I see that nothing has changed. And yet everything is different. The mead continues to fill stomachs. The rounds and refrains continue to turn—as do births and deaths. But all of this is the radiance of the nature of mind. It has always been this way, but it took an ocean voyage to reveal it.

[1] Sailing ship with a single mast.

[2] Quotation by Longchenpa of the All-Creator King (Kun byed rgyal po) in Finding Rest in the Nature of Mind, The Trilogy of Rest, Vol. 1, translation by the Padmakra Translation Group, Padmakara, 2017, p. 235.