Just under two years ago, I wrote a post called One Ripe Strawberry. In it, I recounted the story of a monk who, when chased by bandits, fell over the edge of a cliff. Realising his jeopardy, he grabbed hold of a vine, on which grew a ripe strawberry. He plucked the strawberry and put it in his mouth, declaring “How delicious!” before falling to his death. Here I revisit the parable, with much gratitude for it.
There are many versions of the parable: in some the bandits are substituted for tigers; some include the addition of mice – one black, one white – who gnaw on the vine; and the person in the story is sometimes depicted as a layman, rather than a monk. Interpretations vary too. Some see the eating of the strawberry as the result of a distracted mind, declaring that the subject (layman or monk) would have been better served paying attention to the tiger than the strawberry. It is worth noting here that, in Buddhism, tigers are symbolic of the mind’s untamed nature and the journey towards self-awareness and enlightenment, so this interpretation is credible.
However, I lean towards the version, which you can read more fully in this link, which sees the strawberry not as a distraction but as representing the coming back to awareness and the enjoyment of the moment, amidst the troubles of our lives; the existential fear, the difficulties of old age, disease and death and the troubles of our everyday lives. This we can all do, at any time, releasing the tensions and enjoying the rest therein.
The parable of the monk (substitute layperson if it helps) and the strawberry is a rather personal koan. It is a story that often floats around at the back of my mind during my day. It helps me remember what is important to me. It aids my practice, helping me to let go of worry, annoyance and, as a full time carer, the periodic feeling of being trapped; of falling off the edge of a very steep cliff.
Perhaps the parable has meaning for you, too. I’d love to know. In the meantime, I am reproducing two sections of my original post, here. The first is a helpful quote from Eckhart Tolle, in his book “Oneness with All Life”,
“Time is seen as the endless succession of moments, some ‘good’, some ‘bad’ – yet, if you look more closely, that is to say, through your own immediate experience, you find that there are not many moments at all. You discover that there is only ever this moment. Life (and death) is always now.
The second is this little vignette of a day in my life when the parable hit home and I was brought back to the moment and the gratitude for it.
It had been “a bit of a day”. My husband, recently discharged home from hospital, was “all at sea”. Impatient with himself for not being able to do the things he wanted to do, hot and bothered by the June heatwave, frustrated by failing eyesight and gradual hearing loss, his mood was low. For my part, my usual patience was wearing thin. Moment by moment, trying to fix things that could not be fixed – our voices, flowing back from one to another, sounded tetchy. Each time we spoke, we missed each other’s meaning by a mile.
And then, as the day was closing and I had helped him back into his bed, I stepped out into my backyard in the fading light of evening, and there I saw it. That, which only a few hours ago had still been green in parts, was now a fat red strawberry, in the shape of a heart. I instantly remembered the story of the monk on the clifftop.
It was a beautiful fruit, full of brightness; complete of itself. I took my phone and photographed it before gently plucking it from its stem. I took it indoors and, collecting a small knife from the kitchen en route, I went into my husband’s room. He was still awake. I held up the strawberry and he smiled. Then, taking the knife, I split it down the middle and gave him half.
He took it from me. “You shared it with me!” he said, before eating it.
“Yes”, I said “Good night!”
2 Replies to “One Ripe Strawberry ~ revisited ~ by Karen Richards”