On Buddha and words

I think I’ve been lost for the most part of my life. Even the beats where I wasn’t are hard to remember as me being completely “there”. Guess that’s why I have a habit of latching on to anything that promises “meaning”. Sort of an “A-ha! So this is what’s been missing” kind of attitude towards life.

Quite frankly speaking, it is probably the worst kind of attitude towards anything, let alone life. It leaves you hungry for all sort of things and, worse, it makes you get sick of them pretty quickly. Worse yet, I think of myself as Buddhist.

Some Buddhist buddy of mine even says that he’s amazed Buddha hasn’t somehow materialized himself and beat the shit out of me for living the way I do. “It’s all the wanting,” he says “how can you call yourself a Buddhist and have so much wanting in you?”

Well, that’s easy: I just call myself a Buddhist. It’s not that hard. It’s just a word, like “odd” or “pretty” or “love”, they mean nothing by themselves. Anyone can say these words (Hell, I’d argue that people say them a bit too much). It’s their concept, the idea they draw in our mind, which truly interests us.

I use the word “Buddhist” because I like the concept of it (the enlightenment, the inner peace), but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna be dumb enough as to stop my wanting. That’s like being really in love with someone and never making love to them; you can do it, most certainly, but it somehow doesn’t feel right.

I think that makes me a “wanting-Buddhist” (a seeker of inner peace and anything else that might come along the way). It sounds nice at the very least. But, then again, I’m also the kind of guy who would call himself an “odd-boring person”, a “pretty-mess of a man” and a “love-breaker”, so, make of that what you will.Fotografía: Stefano Majno