Appendix 38-II: The Pain of Rebirth (Robert Quick, August 8th, 2011)
There was a stillness at the center, not just a stillness, a calmness, and a kind of loving certainty that prompts poets to try to de ne True Love; a love without limit. Overwhelmed by the utter pureness of the emotion, I stumbled and fell to my knees at the base of the Bodhi Tree, tears in my eyes. I let the feelings of unworthiness, self-hate, and guilt, wash over me as I remembered the pain I’d caused over the course of my life. Tears poured down like a spring shower and I wailed like a baby until I was hoarse. I don’t know how long I lay there, but nally there were no more tears to be shed, and nothing left inside — I was empty. “Is — is it always like that?” I asked, scrubbing my face with both hands, my voice raw. There was no answer but I was sure I was right. Nothing could prepare a person for that kind of intense self-magni cation. I felt ne now. It slowly dawned on me that I didn’t just feel good, I felt great — fully rested, at peace, and ready for anything. I could change the world.
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