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The old lama smiled and said nothing, pointing to the temple and saying, "Please go to the temple to talk about many questions,"

We walked through the courtyard in front of the temple, did not enter the main hall, followed a few lamas into the side hall of the scripture hall, this hall is very cleverly designed, all sides are carved latticework, there are no windows, it is very transparent, the sun can come in from any angle,

There is a dark golden statue enshrined inside, and there are a few pieces of felt hanging on the wall, which is filled with a faint fragrance.

There are a few young lamas in the faint sunlight, in the corner of the scripture hall, are using colorful sand to sketch mysterious sand paintings, they are very focused, even if we come in, but no one looks up, still concentrate on work,

The three old lamas sat in the main seat of the scripture hall, and the little lama Dorje and I sat in the lower seat, the oldest lama held the dying white cat, stroking the blood-stained white hair from top to bottom with his hands, and the other white cat called "Meow Meow" shrank at the old lama's feet, licking his paws, like a victorious general,

Lama Zimba Poken said, "Just now Dorje asked a question, saying that since you are born and die in an instant, what is the meaning of living, in fact, the answer is in this scripture hall,"

I was puzzled, I didn't say anything, but Dorje asked if he had a question, and he didn't pretend at all, he looked around: "There are too many things in the scripture hall, I really don't know what the old lama is referring to,"

Zimbappoken pointed to several young lamas who were making sand paintings: "For sand paintings, what these lamas are doing at the moment is the meaning of their lives," and he pointed to the old lama holding the cat: "For the white cat, the old lama is the meaning of his life,"

I seem to have realized something, the things I have realized are hazy, and it seems to be able to connect with recent encounters, I have been wandering between illusion and reality, blurring my identity and existence, and the way that the old lama of Zimbaba Bochum is now talking about has inspired me to a certain extent,

I was pondering, and the little monk Dorje spoke simply: "Old lama, I'm asking for advice and not discussing the Fa with you, don't play meditation, can you be more straightforward?"

Zimbabakin casually took the small copper incense burner behind him, grabbed a handful of incense ashes in it, and then fell down from his fingers and fell back into the incense burner, he said: "This is the meaning of my life at this moment,"

I winked and said, "Guru, you mean that the meaning of human life is to focus on what is being done in the moment,"

The old lama of Zimba Boken nodded: "Diamond Sutra Cloud, 'How can the elder Su Bodhi Yun subdue his heart, the Buddha's words are good and good, you should live like this, and subdue your heart as such,' what does this sentence mean, Elder Su Bodhi asked the Buddha how to subdue his own heart, and the Buddha told him that when you asked this question, you have already subdued his heart,"

I was dumbfounded, as if I had realized something but couldn't grasp the concept,

Zimbabor stood up: "Guests from afar, let me tell you a story, please come with me,"

I hurriedly nodded,

He took me to one of the walls of the scripture hall, and the little monk Dorje also came over, and even the white cat named Meow Meow also came.

The walls are carved with richly colored thangkas, and on them is a narrative painting, with many figures, all of which have been deformed, and I don't quite understand it.

Zimbapoken said: "This painting is a real thing that happened in this monastery, there is a lama named Dzonggchen Madrup Rinpoche, who had a great wish during his lifetime, and after his reincarnation, he was divided into three illusionary dharma bodies, that is, he was reincarnated into three things...... Things," he said without knowing how to phrase them, "they are the vajra body, the mouth of the scriptures, and the mind of wisdom, of which the body of the vajra and the meaning of wisdom are the human body, and the mouth of the scriptures is a cat called 'meow'."

I just noticed the white cat under my feet, it "meowed" and looked up at me,

The old lama squatted down and picked up the white cat, and continued to walk forward, and the little monk Dorje and I followed behind, and came to another mural, this mural is very strange, the colors on it are extremely bright, and the painting is between the clouds, mountains, and fog and the sea, and there are two strange monkeys like Mongolian wrestlers, holding each other's shoulders.

The old lama said: "This painting is taken from the classics in the Sanskrit scriptures, and the heart ape fights with his own heart,"

I understood at once, isn't this the Monkey King and the six-eared macaque in "Journey to the West",

The old lama said: "The three reincarnated Dharma bodies, two people and a cat are now practicing in the temple, not to mention people, just talking about the cat, its practice is extremely strange, very reasonable, people are humane, beasts have beasts, humans and beasts can not communicate, this cat in the most critical step in the practice, is to cultivate the beast nature, so there is the meaning derived from this mural on the wall, the heart ape and their own qi law fight,"

He turned around and pointed to the dying cat in the arms of the oldest lama in the distance, and said, "That cat is Meow's angry appearance, which is the embodiment of Meow's true appearance,"

I hurriedly said, "Old Lama, I'm a little confused, is the Dharma aspect you said born from the original appearance, or does it already exist?"

"Born of what is," said Zimbaboken, "there is no moon in the sky, no moon in the water, no one in front of the mirror, no one in the mirror,"

I blinked: "You mean, if there is no meow cat, then there will be no dharma at all, the cat in the old lama's arms is from my world, so before the meow cat exists, my world does not also exist,"

I mean it very clearly, is it that before meow, my world did not exist, is it that the world I am in is just a cat's cultivation state of mind,

Dorje clapped his palms when he heard this: "This question is good, who is me who has not given birth to me,"

Zimba Boken said: "This question should be answered by Meow Meow,"

He put down the white cat, Meow Meow quickly ran to the two old lamas, whispered something in an old man's ear, the old man handed it a candle, Meow Meow grabbed the candle and ran back, looking at me,

I picked up the candle from the ground, Zimbaba didn't use any firearms, just snapped my fingers at the candle head, and the candle burned.

I was dumbfounded, Zimbaba Poken suddenly blew casually, and the flame went out,

I looked at him, puzzled,

Zimbappoken said: "Donor, you just asked me if there was a world before the cat existed, can you tell me where the flame came from before the candle was lit, and where the flame went after the candle was blown out?"

I smacked my lips: "Old monk, you're a bit of a raise,"

Zimba Poken smiled: "It's not a pole at all, I'm a monk, I'm a cultivator, the question you just asked me is equivalent to asking what is the end of the practice, I can't answer you, I can't answer you, I can only tell you, the meaning of the practice is the process itself, not the end of the practice, Dorje, remember the question you asked me, what is the meaning of life, people are like flames, since they are burning, then burn as much as you want, ignite and extinguish the place, then let it burn and extinguish,"

I breathed a long sigh of relief and clenched my fists: "Clear,"

What the old lama said is an attitude towards the world, there is no need to investigate the truth, as long as I am true, maybe I don't need to be true, as long as my emotions and emotions are my joys, sorrows, sorrows, and sorrows, they are true, there is no need to investigate what the candle is, the flame burns, it is the flame,

Zimba Boken lowered his body and touched the meow: "You have succeeded in cultivation, you should also go to the mouth of the scriptures, Hongchen has learned the scriptures, let your anger method stay here to practice for you,"

The white cat "meowed" twice and lay at my feet,

I wanted to understand a lot of questions, my heart was relaxed, and I was ready to go back, Zimba Bocolen said: "Guest, don't rush back yet, Dorje, you lead him down the eastern corridor, maybe he can see his acquaintances,"

The old lama gave the candle to Dorje,

Dorje was a little puzzled but obeyed the old lama and made a gesture to me: "Please come with me,"

I followed him out of the scripture hall, the white cat called Meow Meow, leisurely followed behind, do I have to take it with me when I go back, the soul of the mask man stays in this world, and I want to bring another cat back from this world, it's really the conservation of matter,

As Dorje walked down the corridor, the light getting dimmer and dimmer, he lit a candle with a flint and steel, and muttered, "I'm going to go out if I go any further."

At this time, we stopped and saw a person sitting cross-legged on the ground painting a mural in the dark depths of the corridor.

At this moment, you can see the exit in the far part of the corridor, where it is the daytime sunshine, the corridor is very dark, the exit becomes an extremely bright rectangle, this person is sitting near the exit, the edge of the body is like a black silhouette, I can't see any details, but I can distinguish his movements,

Dorje and I looked at each other, and he held the candle high, and the little lama's face was as thick as a Tibetan painting.

"Who is this," I asked,

Dorje said, "A painter,"

We walked down the corridor and came to the man, who had blindfolded his eyes with a silk cloth and had a paintbrush in his hand, and was drawing on the wall in the dark.

Dorje illuminates the mural with candles, the content of the mural is not human or material, the painting is a nine-layer spiral circle, layer by layer downward, the structure is complex, the colors are bright and heavy, and the pattern is too complicated, it makes people feel a sense of vomiting.

Dorje whispered, "The acquaintance the old lama said was him,"

The painter stopped his pen, heard the voice, and slowly tilted his head: "Dorje,"

Dorje nodded: "It's me, Mr. Luo,"

Mr. Luo, I looked at this person suspiciously, his face loomed in the flames, he really looked like an acquaintance, who,

I pondered carefully, and suddenly my mind flashed like lightning, I remembered the family photo I saw at Luo Ermi's house, and blurted out: "You are Luo Dao,"