Last night the plane landed in Changchun. I'd never been from the airport into town but had heard of a bus. Sure enough, as I walked out the doors, there was the bus, so for 20 yuan I could get to downtown and grab a taxi from there.
The bus was almost ready to depart as I bought my ticket, and when I got on the bus more than half of the seats were full. Only one row had an aisle seat open, so I plunked down in that seat. It was dark on the bus, just enough light to see whether or not someone was sitting in a seat, but not enough light to see who it was.
As the bus drove on into the darkness through the rural area between the airport and the city, I noticed that the person next to me didn't smell Chinese exactly. In fact, as he shifted, he smelled like incense. It slowly dawned on me that I had inadvertently plopped down next to a Buddhist monk.
Oops. Monks aren't supposed to have any contact with women. I hoped I hadn't accidentally contaminated him or something. Having just come from Thailand where orange-robed monks seem to be everywhere, I worried awhile. But I hadn't touched him, and he had left the seat open.
But he had his head down, sleeping on his backpack, not really concerned with my presence. And every time he shifted I could smell the incense that had steeped into his clothes.
I sat there in the dark, lifting up the soul of this person to find Truth, and also asking that I could be a sweet fragrance to those around me in an intangible sense, unmistakably marking who I am and Who I belong to.
What fragrance has surprised you recently?
The bus was almost ready to depart as I bought my ticket, and when I got on the bus more than half of the seats were full. Only one row had an aisle seat open, so I plunked down in that seat. It was dark on the bus, just enough light to see whether or not someone was sitting in a seat, but not enough light to see who it was.
As the bus drove on into the darkness through the rural area between the airport and the city, I noticed that the person next to me didn't smell Chinese exactly. In fact, as he shifted, he smelled like incense. It slowly dawned on me that I had inadvertently plopped down next to a Buddhist monk.
Oops. Monks aren't supposed to have any contact with women. I hoped I hadn't accidentally contaminated him or something. Having just come from Thailand where orange-robed monks seem to be everywhere, I worried awhile. But I hadn't touched him, and he had left the seat open.
But he had his head down, sleeping on his backpack, not really concerned with my presence. And every time he shifted I could smell the incense that had steeped into his clothes.
I sat there in the dark, lifting up the soul of this person to find Truth, and also asking that I could be a sweet fragrance to those around me in an intangible sense, unmistakably marking who I am and Who I belong to.
What fragrance has surprised you recently?
