Word 040
At Tōdai-ji Temple in Nara, high on the hillside east of the Great Buddha Hall, stands a hall called Nigatsudō.
Each March, a ritual known as Omizutori has been held here without interruption since the year 752. Through wars, famines, and plagues, this ceremony has never once been cancelled.
In the darkness of night, monks carry massive torches — some over eight meters long — and run along the outer veranda. The burning embers scatter into the night sky and vanish in moments. Each spark asks no questions. It simply burns with everything it has for that one brief instant, then quietly disappears.
If you were to leave this world right now, at this very moment,
could you say without hesitation, "I have no regrets in my life"?
If you cannot say so, is it because there are conditions —
and once you meet them, you will finally be able to say it?
If so, that moment will most likely never come.
Let us live each and every moment so that we can always say so.
"Once certain conditions are met" — these words have a way of quietly taking root in the mind.
Those sparks from the torch carried no conditions. They simply burned with all they had for a single moment, and were gone.