I've observed a man in a Starbucks a week ago. He seemed to carry a lot of anger and just kept on channeling the anger by repeating his arguments out loud. Everybody else might easily labelled him as crazy.
However, when I think of my past, my sorrow and anger towards some past events will come up from time to time. I wish I could do better but the difference between me and him is that I could hide it a bit better by not playing a drama in front of the others. However, these arguments have been played many times in last two years. I suppose if someone can read my mind, I will be considered as "crazy" too.
He must have gone through a lot of hardship. While I have my sympathy, I also realized I lack sympathy to myself. I guess that is why a wise man would ask you to stop making up story in your head. The Buddha would say we couldn't stop this but we could aware this. Once we aware, it would be the first most important step to find a solution, wouldn't it?
I came across a cover of a song, Mr. Tambourine Man, a few days ago. I fell in love with the singer's voice. But when I explore the lyrics, the talk about the sorrow touched me:
Then take me disappearing through the smoke rings of my mind
Down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves
The haunted, frightened trees, out to the windy beach
Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow
My "crazy sorrow" has twisted my memory of the past. I wish to have good terms with old friends but some promise becomes a reason of sorrow. So, I twisted the paramita of patience and persistence to an excuse. I wish I could do it better.
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