A Tale for the Time Being

by Ruth Ozeki

It’s pretty abstract. Old Jiko tried to explain it to me, and I don’t know if I understood it correctly or not, but I think it means that nothing in the world is solid or real, because nothing is permanent, and all things—including trees and animals and pebbles and mountains and rivers and even me and you—are just kind of flowing through for the time being. I think that’s true, and it’s very reassuring, and I just wish I’d understood that at my funeral when Ugawa Sensei was chanting because it would have been a great comfort to me, but of course I didn’t because these sutras are in an old-fashioned language that nobody understands anymore, unless you’re like Jiko and it’s your job. But actually it doesn’t really matter because even if you can’t exactly understand the words, you know they are beautiful and profound, and Ugawa Sensei ’s voice, which was usually so mumbly and unpleasant, was suddenly soft and sad and gentle, and he was chanting with feeling, like he really meant it. When he walked up to my desk to offer me a flower, the look on his face made me want to cry because it was so twisted up and full of his own particular sorrow.