Tara on Tour

Tara is the female Buddha of compassion and wisdom. This is a webdiary of a journey inspired by Tara....

Name:
Location: Edinburgh, United Kingdom

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Zimbabwe


Tara protecting from Famine and Poverty has gone to Zimbabwe. This is a country badly in need of help, blessing and protection. There is so much suffering through poverty, disease and the oppressive regime of Mugabe. The friend who has gone has been a Tara practitioner for many years and is not afraid to meet and engage with suffering: she will bring a big heart of compassion to whoever she meets. It is very difficult to expose ourselves and be exposed to suffering on a massive scale and most people, myself included, are afraid to. To be able to meet it, handle it and respond appropriately takes a strong and very stable mind. The kind of mind that training in the Dharma gives you, but not necessarily straight away.

It is quite shocking to realise how many people there are in the world suffering huge hardship and difficulties; how much disease there is, how much war, how much poverty and starvation, displacement... things most of us don't experience in the West. Sometimes the relative comfort of my own life sits uneasily on shoulders that perhaps could bear more of the burden. To be able to comfort and help people who are not in a position to do that for themselves is a very great thing.

So now I am left with Tara protecting from Sickness, and the final Tara. But the journey will not be over once these two find their homes. Tara will continue to spread her blessings throughout the world as others take small statues with them on their own journeys. Whilst this isn't part of the original plan, it's a wonderful offshoot and extension. To date, one is going to Italy, one to the Congo and one to Sierra Leone. Anyone who would like one is welcome to get in touch.

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Anna

So sorry not have reported back on the Tara for protection of theft. She is well and hopefully doing good, though I adopted a loose version of theft.

Justin

Here is my account.

In south Goa there is a beach with a rocky promontory on its north side. The rocks look out on fishermen in the bay. The fishermen look out on tourists. The beach is called Patnam.
For seven months of the year Patnam is a resort. Cooks and waiters commute from Northern India and Nepal and Bangladesh. The sun shines, music seeps from stereos, tourists sip cold beers in bamboo shacks and watch their tattoos redden. There is no rain, wind whispers through palms giving only the illusion of rain. There are no clouds. Every evening the fishermen cross the bay in boats of mango wood, black and tar stained and weighed down with Western flesh. There are no fish anymore. Industrial trawlers on the horizon have drained the seas. The tourists sit in their boats and admire the sunset. The fishermen take their money and dream of being somewhere else. And then the season ends.
For five months of the year there is no tourism, no money, there is the monsoon, dark clouds and strong winds and rain. The sea rises, boils, beats upon the shore, and the fishermen take their boats beyond the bay. Only now, only when the trawlers retire to harbour and wait out the storms, do the fish return. And so they take out their boats and they cast their nets, and every year a few fail to return, lives stolen by the wind and the rain and the sea.
In south Goa there is a beach with a rocky promontory on its north side. The rocks look out on fishermen in the bay. Amidst these rocks there is now a Tara. Perhaps the sea will be kinder this year.

10:18 AM  

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