The rest of that day he found no peace. The roses in his garden, whose beauty had always caught his eye, now reminded him only of the evanescence of life. The bright scenes and laughter of the palace flowed by like running water. “Everything is change,” he thought; “each moment comes and goes. Is there nothing more, nothing to the future but decline and death?” These questions are familiar from the lives of saints and seekers in every tradition, and there is nothing morbid about them; it is this awareness of death that brings life into clear focus. The Buddha-to-be was beginning to wake up.
