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“A refreshing spring day we speak of as warm. Yet that warmth is cherished because it follows the biting cold of winter.

Having experienced the chill of snow falling from the sky, we can call the drizzling spring rain refreshing, and having felt the cutting cold winds that split the flesh, we can say the spring breeze is warm and gentle.

How happy is that warmth that comes after enduring a harsh winter?

Thus, we regard spring as a reward for surviving trials, not hesitating to attach good descriptors to it.”

“But just as life entails pain, so too do the seasons.

Even if winter is cold and arduous, was there only suffering?

We likely gazed in awe at the world blanketed in white snow, and during those quiet times when all things slumbered, we may have reflected on ourselves. Even as we struggled against the cold, we could have found small joys inside our warmed homes, or gathered or hunted things unique to winter.

Pain and joy always coexist alongside us.

Spring is no exception.”

“In the spring when life stirs, where does joy dwell alone?

If we call winter a rest, then spring must be a time of preparation.

Trees will stop resting, putting all their strength into blooming and yielding fruit, while animals, clutching their hungry bellies, search for food to fill themselves. And just as their ancestors did, or as I did last year, they will begin to mate.

Beginning life is akin to beginning suffering, and preparing for life is no different from preparing for pain.”

“But just as shoots must sprout before yielding fruit, so too our lives are.

Without preparation, one cannot produce satisfactory results, and only through enduring and possessing patience through pain can we obtain great happiness. Thus, in the refreshing spring, every creature strives to live to the best of their ability. While knowing that it is painful, they understand that the results attainable at the end will fully compensate for that pain with sweetness and joy. With the thought that creating something so worthy is possible, all things strive.”

“But who in the world enjoys suffering?

Just as one wouldn’t wish to thrust their hand into the hot fire, we don’t welcome the suffering even if we know good results await us. But to say ‘become steel without any process’ to freshly extracted iron ore makes no sense, so we must shy away from seeking results alone without traversing the painful process.”

“Do you wish for ripe fruit to grow on a warm spring day?

Isn’t it logical that fruit ought to bloom in the fall, passing through spring and summer?

And did you reach out in covetousness to pluck that fruit?”

“How foolish was that action of yours.”

“You must come to realize.”

* * *

“Our lives resemble flames.

The flames blossoming from neatly stacked firewood.

Therefore, while we wish to burn brightly, we know that its end will be but ash and cold.

‘If raging flames signify our life, then the warmth they exude must hold meaning too.’

‘If giving warmth is the nature of fire, then burning hot and causing pain also belongs to fire. Do not deny our essence. Do not suppress our essence.’

Here are the flames.

There are firewood wishing to spread the fire clinging to their bodies everywhere.

As the suppressed embers await their time to blaze, flames wish to bloom according to the sage’s will.

‘Embrace our life. Devote yourself, and continue to devote. Thus shall we achieve great unity.’

Flames can bloom anywhere.

In humid jungles, in the ice-filled polar regions, in dry deserts, in the deep sea, and in the vast Universe.

Flames can blossom everywhere.

It is meaningless to ask why they sprout.

Flames can appear anywhere, and as long as the universe hasn’t completely chilled, they will exist everywhere.”

Thus, it was no wonder flames blossomed in China.

No matter how many fences were erected to block religion, could it succeed?

Even when trying to build walls to stop the winds, the winds climb the barriers and enter; and even if a dam is constructed to hold back water, the water will not stop circulating.

Just as stagnant water evaporates to become clouds and transform into rain, teachings too are like that.

No matter how many walls are erected, will their voices not reach?

No matter how hard we try to block our ears, can we cover what resonates in our hearts?

Such is the nature of teachings, and hence, flames.

Therefore, it is possible for flames to bloom in China despite breaking through countless barriers.

Faith is.

The teachings of the sage are.

It is the sort of belief that is willing to cast oneself into the flames.

Thus, the flames exert all their strength in pursuit of the ‘great cause.’

“In times long past, there was an altar in a parched land where people found it difficult to live, where beasts swarmed and they had to hold their breath to survive. The grass and trees didn’t care for the people’s suffering, and mercilessly, the rain did not fall to provide them grain. So their hunger, lacking fruits or grains, must have been pure torture.”

“A child of man cried out, ‘Why is pain so abundant in our lives? Why do you bestow such torment upon us? The altar in this barren land has caused the earth to crack, preventing water from springing forth, leading poisonous snakes to roam in place of scaled creatures, and swarms of insects to thrive, making even a dwelling unresolved. How can you torment us so?'”

The flames of China construct altars.

They build altars from a mixture of mud, animal droppings, and dried grass, mashing together malodorous substances.

Though the stench is unbearable and gigantic flies, whose origin is unknown, buzz around to distract their minds, they heed it not and build the altars.

What they hold in their hands are insignificant tools.

A flat stone, a wooden stick.

Only those shaping the altar use such tools, while those gathering the mud mixed with droppings do so with bare hands, devoid of any tools.

Yet despite that, there is no sign of disgust on their faces, no look of reluctance.

They simply carry out their destined task in an atmosphere of reverence.

“A spirit, hearing the lamentation, pitied them and spoke: ‘Such is the way of the world, but I shall bestow a gift upon you. This will solidify the sinking ground, easily burn the homes of insects, and keep beasts from attacking you; so cherish it and ensure it does not extinguish.'”

“Handing it over, a tree split with a roar, and a white serpent shot up into the sky emitting light as if it were an egg birthed by clouds. However, it was shapeless, continuously changing its form while remaining round, untouchable; thus, they took the split wood as a vessel back to their village.”

“The brilliant light piercing the darkness resembled a small sun placed before them, causing admiration from the people, while the night beasts feared the brightness and refrained from approaching. The insects easily ignited in the flames, becoming food for the day, so how could they not praise such grace?”

They chant invocations as they encircle the altar.

Then, they place a split tree stump atop the altar and with careful hands, bring a torch to it.

The flames of the ebony torch smolder and scorch the wood, but do not ignite it for some time.

Fwoosh!

From the crevices, a tiny ember with thin smoke begins to rise.

Soon enough, the flames spread, becoming a fist-sized blaze, and the people, with faces resolute as if steeled, extend their hands.

People plunge their bare hands into the scorching flame.

Naturally, the flames burn their hands, delivering tremendous anguish.

How horrifying it is to feel the skin burning away.

Hair singes while skin melts.

The melted skin turns to blackness, and the intense heat cooks the flesh.

Nevertheless, they do not hesitate to stick their hands into the flames, nor do they cease the act of placing their fingers into the blaze to extract the ashes with their fingers.

Thus retrieved, the ashes are held aloft in their blackened hands.

And soon, they are consumed in wide-open mouths.

Sizzle.

The sound of scorching fills their mouths.

Along with it, follows the pain.

As they swallow, mixing ash with saliva, a bitter taste and the prick of agony reside in their throats.

This is a rite.

An act of enshrining the fire within their bodies, to burn themselves down.

But it’s okay.

They are the firewood, and they kindle the flames.

They willingly devote themselves here.

For the sake of saving countless others, it is well warranted.”

 

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