Blind Passions

Marcus Cumberlege

Although I think of my birth in Amida’s Pure Land as firm and settled, I still often find myself craving strongly for human warmth and companionship, at times when I am alone in the house, Maria being away at her work or, as of now, on a trip with her quilting friends to the South of France.

I am what Shinran frequently describes as ‘a man of blind passions’.  Namu Amida Butsu, the expression of my Shin Buddhist faith, is like a dyke (I’m writing this in Holland) which people erect in order to hold back the flooding tide of the sea - in this case, a sea of confused sentiments and troubled sexuality.

I’m not a maniac in this way, by any means.  My poetry is a healthy outlet for my dammed-up emotions and provides enormous therapeutic release of tension.  But at the same time it needs to be read and shared and, wherever possible, reacted to by a sympathetic listener.

I can’t explain why faith in Namu Amida Butsu alone, which I know to be sufficient for my salvation as a person, is not with me every moment of my waking life, but regrettably it is so.

Although I haven’t touched alcohol for nearly eighteen years or tobacco for more than ten, I am still basically an addicted and dependent person.  I am a slave to life itself, to nature and art, to affection, to coffee, tea and sugar, to appreciation, to some degree of success, and to all my other hungers, cravings and uncorrected defects.

This mix of unmanageability I call my ‘blind passions’, to use Shinran’s term again, and they are symbolized to some extent by the womenfolk in my life - my godmothers and goddaughters, my wives and actual daughters, my soul sisters and playmates, my angels, mistresses, students, fellow-students, friends, girlfriends, models, objects of admiration and desire, teachers of the heart, companions, lovers, guardians and muses.

I cannot say that I have lived and loved wisely or that ‘control’ is any longer a major issue with me.  I am slowly learning to do what is best for myself.  In this I try to stick to essentials.  That involves, for me, concentrating on Amida’s Name and recognizing His compassionate working in everyone and everything around me.

I think the finest sentiment possible to man is gratitude.

I prostrate myself
Before the Buddha’s statue -
And the day is good.

 (M. Cumberlege)

					Ekō 90
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