The Winds of Feeling and the Stillness of Wisdom
In the vast sky above, O monks, the winds are ever-changing.
From the far reaches of the earth, they arise—east and west, north and south—
Some sweeping across the land with dust in their grasp,
Others gliding clear and pure, unseen yet felt.
Some arrive with a scorching heat, parching all they touch,
While others whisper with a cool breath, soothing the weary.
Some rage with unbridled fury, shaking trees and stirring waves,
Others pass so gently that even the finest leaf remains still.
Thus, the sky holds within it the ceaseless motion of change,
A dance without beginning, a rhythm without end.
Likewise, monks, within this fragile body, feelings arise and pass away.
Pleasant feelings, like the cool breeze of dawn, bring delight,
Painful feelings, like the searing winds of summer, bring distress,
And neutral feelings, subtle and unnoticed, drift like a silent air.
Just as the winds do not ask permission to blow,
Neither do feelings seek consent before they arise.
They come and go, transient as the shifting sky,
Unbound by will, untouched by desire.
There are times when joy rushes in like a warm southern wind,
Caressing the heart, lifting the spirit, filling the mind with delight.
Like the gentle wind that carries the scent of blossoms,
It fills one’s being with sweetness, with contentment, with ease.
But as swiftly as it arrives, it fades,
Leaving behind only the memory of its touch.
At other times, suffering comes like a storm from the north,
A wind that chills the bones and darkens the sky.
It roars through the mind like thunder over the mountains,
Scattering thoughts, shaking resolve, leaving fear in its wake.
One may grasp at warmth, may plead for calm,
But the storm does not heed the cries of those who resist.
It will pass in its own time, as all things do.
And then there are moments when neither pleasure nor pain arises,
When the winds are still, when the sky is vast and untroubled.
Yet even in this calm, there is movement unseen—
The silent shifting of clouds, the quiet breath of the unseen air.
Such is the nature of neutral feeling, subtle and unnoticed,
Present, yet often ignored, like a whisper in the great noise of life.
But, O monks, the wise one does not cling nor recoil.
He observes as a traveler watches the shifting clouds—
Unmoved by their beauty, unshaken by their darkness.
With mindfulness sharp as a lamp in the storm,
He sees the winds of feeling for what they are:
Impermanent, empty, without a self to call their own.
Neither delighting in pleasure nor despairing in pain,
He remains steadfast, grounded in the Dharma’s way.
The fool, however, is like a man chasing the wind.
He runs toward pleasure, longing to catch it in his grasp,
Yet it slips through his fingers like sand through an open hand.
He flees from suffering, cursing the bitter wind that stings his face,
Yet the more he resists, the fiercer the storm becomes.
He clings to what is fleeting, he weeps for what is lost,
Unaware that all things are like the sky—
Boundless, shifting, beyond his control.
But if a monk, O wise ones, is ardent and does not neglect
To practice mindfulness and comprehension clear,
Then the nature of all feelings will he understand.
Like a great tree rooted deep in the earth,
He does not sway with every passing breeze.
Neither heat nor cold disturbs his stillness,
Neither joy nor sorrow binds his heart.
And having penetrated them, he will be taint-free in this very life.
Mature in knowledge, firm in the ways of the Dharma,
He walks the path beyond sorrow, beyond birth and death.
For he has seen the truth with wisdom’s eye,
And in knowing, he is free.
When once his life-span ends, his body breaks,
Like a leaf that falls when its time has come,
He clings to nothing, holds to nothing.
No longer bound by the illusions of self and suffering,
He transcends all measure, beyond all concept,
Unshaken as the boundless sky itself.
Thus, O monks, let the winds blow as they will.
Do not chase them, do not flee from them.
Simply see them, know them, and be free.
Link: https://wisdomtea.org/2025/03/20/the-winds-of-feeling-and-the-stillness-of-wisdom/
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