There is a story of an old Buddhist monk who taught his disciples about the illusion of suffering and death and how peace and tranquility can be enjoyed in the midst of these illusions. Then his son died. He was so grief-stricken that he disappeared into his cave for weeks. When he finally emerged out of the cave his disciples cornered him: “You taught us about tranquility in the midst of the illusions of suffering and death, and yet you grieved so for your son!” He replied, “This illusion was particularly convincing.”
I like that story.
graffiti artist on the walls of religion
