Buddhic Abecedarian

Exposed finally to suffering, Siddhartha wondered how it felt. One day he decided not to come in out of the rain. He got a cold, ran a fever, sweat and froze, shivered and shook . When rats nibbled his toes, he let them. He drank little and ate less. Disliked the lack of taste so much, he consumed less and less. He cut his skin and bled copiously. He stopped sleeping but never fully awoke. He was a mess. And yet he knew he remained a neophyte, far from the godhead. He had learned how to suffer, but not how to overcome suffering.

When an urchin offered him a bowl of rice, Siddhartha was touched by her compassion. He accepted it. He decided then and there he would have to find another path, one less extreme. Asceticism alone offered no clarity of thought. He needed his health to attain mindfulness.