water lily leaves

I'm sitting by a lily pond, and it's a moment of peace, tranquility. Overhead, the wind is blowing the trees, but down here by the pond, all is still. The water in the pond is almost motionless, here and there very tiny ripples, but for the most part completely still.

But what is attracting my attention just now, are the leaves of the water lilies. The leaves are floating on the water surface, and each one is an almost complete circle. They are also still, tranquil, at rest. And yet they're still doing their leaf thing, of taking light, sunlight, and photosynthesising. But they're doing it in such a relaxed way, effortlessly.

And looking at these leaves, they remind me of how a buddha is in the world. A human buddha is still a human being, and still does the things a human being does: breathing, eating, drinking, sleeping. However, the buddha nature does all this in such a relaxed way. Whereas most leaves have to support their own weight, have to have strength, a certain resoluteness, merely to hold themselves up, the water lily leaves are supported by the water. They don't need to support themselves in that way. This is what allows them to be so effortless.

And so it is with a buddha. Our buddha nature is supported by existence. Our buddha nature can also be effortless, just as these water lily leaves are effortlessly being leaves, so it is for the Buddha nature. The buddha nature is effortlessly being, supported by existence itself, without needing to struggle, without needing rigidity to hold itself up.

So sitting here, gazing at the leaves of the water lilies, my own buddha nature is resonating, resonating with these leaves, effortlessly being.