And they came across me as I was meditating like a herd of maroon buffalo. Twenty , thirty, forty monks running going somewhere but to where. Was it the tree they wanted, but usually pilgrims walked in slow reverence to the great pipal tree.; why were they running like the wind, did I imagine this as we chanted the great perfection of heart wisdom. Old people prostrated full length on boards , a monk had his celestial mandala , westerners, Sri Lankans, Nepalese, Tibetan, Vietnamese, Burmese, Chinese, Japanese, American, Australian the whole world was vibrating to the great Hum of the eternal Buddha. Not the one that lived and died but the eternal one who watches from on high. Everlasting , the never perishing great compassion of never ending light. Oh Shariputra listen to your heart, your soul, don’t try to explain it, let it sit in the heart, dissolve yourself into great ocean of wisdom without knowing why. Live the life of heroes, listen to heart beat and merge with its drum. Dance in the nothingness of Gone, gone, gone beyond , to the further shore, everything is and is not. I exist and I do not . I am here because of someone, or something, somewhere creating and destroying . I am not here because I made myself appear , I am here because of everything that has come into being, universes, black holes, quasars, stars filled with dust, the wind on the leaf, the ocean roar on rocks, desert wasteland, forest that go on forever, I was there before I was there, always coming into and going out of being. Shariputra you are the heart and the heart is you . Live!