Even when the cloud is not there, it continues and snow or rain. It is impossible for the cloud to die. It can become rain or ice, but it cannot become nothing. The cloud does not need to have a soul in order to continue. There’s no beginning and no end. I will never die. There will be a dissolution of this body, but that does not mean my death.
I will continue, always.
A small monk in Vietnam opposed the war, convinced MLK to oppose the war, was nominated for a Nobel, taught thousands of people to meditate and study mindfulness. He wrote poetry and painted calligraphy. His teachings were simple. He always invited children into the dharma hall for talks.
All week the ceremony of his passing, washing the body and carrying it in the streets. They lay his body in a coffin and covered him with sandalwood. On Friday he was cremated.
Now he is everywhere, everywhere we look.