When they plow their fields
and sow seeds in the earth,
when they care for their wives and children,
young brahmans find riches.

But I’ve done everything right
and followed the rule of my teacher.
I’m not lazy or proud.
Why haven’t I found peace?

Bathing my feet
I watch the bathwater
spill down the slope.
I concentrated my mind
the way you train a good horse.

Then I took a lamp
and went in to my cell,
checked the bed,
and sat down on it.
I took a needle
and pushed the wick down.

When the lamp went out
my mind was freed.

Patacara (6th Century BC) was the daughter of a banker and ran away with her lover, a family servant. After the deaths of her husband, two children and family, she went nearly mad with grief until she entered a grove where the Buddha was teaching. She followed his 8 fold path and practiced mindfulness meditation. In her poem she shows that awakening often come to the mind at a moment when it finally relinquishes effort and purpose. (From “Women in Praise of the Sacred” edited by Jane Hirshfield)

“I’ve done everything right… Why haven’t I found peace?” How many times has a similar thought passed in our own minds? We recite affirmations, we pray, we ask forgiveness, we do good deeds, we meditate, we make sacrifices … so why are we not getting what we want? Even if that ‘thing’ we want is a “good thing?” Who is the “I” who is doing everything right? And who is the “I” who hasn’t found peace? As long as there is an object to our wanting, as long as there is an I who wants, we are in duality. If “I” is an illusion, how can we possibly see or understand? When the “I” finally gives up, the last obstacle to seeing is removed. This dissolution of I is the polishing of the mirror of Buddhism.