When Sadness Rages Like Fire
Sadness rages like a great fire, though in mind, there is no wood. A storm of tears pours down ceaselessly, though in the sky of my eyes there are no clouds.1 —Shabkar
THROUGHOUT his profound spiritual awakening, the great Tibet yogi Shabkar experienced immense loss resulting in grief marked by raw pain, a sense of disorientation, sadness, and tears. Witnessing how a Buddhist master mourns can shed some light on how we can navigate our own grief and demystify any fantasies we might have about a peace that negates sadness.
Shabkar (1781–1851) lived in northeastern Tibet with his mother and sister. As he came of age, he yearned to go on a great spiritual journey. According to his autobiography, he believed he would be able to attain the great state of liberation that would relieve the suffering of all beings. But the journey he envisioned meant leaving home against the wishes of his mother, who begged him not to go. She told him, “You are like the very eyes in my head. If you go far away, your mother will be like a blind woman. You are like my very own heart.
