Stories for prolonged grief
3 Buddhist wisdom stories for prolonged grief from Buddhist teachers, each linked to the original talk.
- The man who cried for the moonStory · Ajahn Brahm
In brief: A father weeps every evening at his son's cremation ground; his family hires an actor who weeps louder, 'for the moon'. When the father calls him crazy, the actor answers that at…
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it's a man who cried for the moon. A man who lost his only son, and would go to the cremation ground every evening to cry and cry and cry, and his family let him cry for a while. But when he was crying overmuch they wanted to find some way of overcoming his grief which was going on far too long, ruining his health and his business as I've seen happen. They hired an actor and the actor went to the cremation ground also, and the actor was crying more than the father who'd lost his son. When they met together, these two men crying their eyes out, the actor crying more, the actor asked, "what are you crying for?" He said, "I've lost my son. He's dead..". "What are you crying for," said the father to the actor. "I'm crying for the moon". "What do you mean, crying for the moon?" "It's my birthday last week, and my father asked me - what do you want? And I said I want the moon please. And my father wouldn't get it for me, and I'm so upset.. I'm crying for the moon." And the father said, "You're stupid. You're crazy! Why are you crying for? No-one can give you the moon!" "You call me crazy," said the actor, "You're crying for your dead son. At least you can see the moon! Where is your dead son?" [laughter]. And at that, this is a story, an old story, in the Buddhist texts, at that, the man realised what he was doing, he was crying for something you can never get. Grieving for something which you can't change. And that was enough for him to stop his grief, go back to work, and move on with his life.
- The two chicken farmers: eggs or dung?Story · Ajahn Brahm
In brief: One chicken farmer fills his basket with chicken dung, leaves the eggs to rot and stinks out his house; the other brings home the eggs for an omelette and the market and leaves…
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The two chicken farmers story. My famous, favourite story and the reason why I keep repeating this is because people need to know this, so they don't suffer so much. Two chickens farmers, the first chicken farmer went into the shed early in the morning to collect the produce from the night before. Took in the basket and filled the basket full of chicken shit and he left the eggs in the shed to rot and he brought the shit back into the house, stunk the whole house out, he was a very dumb chicken farmer. There's a meaning to this story so stay with me. Second chicken farmer went into the shed with a basket and he put eggs in the basket and he left shit in the shed because it would become valuable fertilizer later on. But you don't bring it into the house with you, you bring the eggs back into the house so he could make an omelette for his family and sell the rest of the eggs in the market for cash. That's a smart chicken farmer, that's what you're supposed to do. And the moral of that story, and this was told by Ajahn Chah, he said when you collect the produce of your past and bring it into your present, what do you bring with you? When you collect what's done today or this week, what do you bring home with you? Are you shit collectors or egg collectors
- “You're taking away my grief”Story · Ajahn Brahm
In brief: After a talk at a grief-and-loss conference on letting go, a woman complains bitterly that Ajahn Brahm is taking away her grief — grief had become her identity and her source of…
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But one of the women afterwards, after hearing my talk, came up to complain bitterly. Her complaint was "Are you saying I shouldn't grieve? Are you saying it's wrong to grieve? You're taking away my grief," she complained For her, she had associated with grief and she became Mrs. Grief whatever her name was. But that's her persona, that's who she was. And she would go to many of those conferences and she'd get a lot of support from her friends. That's who she was and she was not willing to give it up.