Suchness

“It is perhaps only a legend,” Anand said. “But it is said that one day, toward the end of his long life, the Buddha arose before his assembled throng of disciples and held up a lotus flower. He spoke no words; the flower itself transmitted the essence of his wisdom. Enlightenment came, not through scripture or philosophy, but through a direct experience—a deep realization—of the miracle of existence.”

“Tathata,” Phoebe said. “In English it’s translated as ‘suchness,’ or ‘thatness.’ It's the transcendent reality of being that shines through the ordinary world of appearances."

“The practice of Zen aims at awakening this awareness,” Anand said. “It is not about thinking the right thoughts or gaining some knowledge beyond us. It is simply experiencing the miracle of what is right in front of our eyes.”

As he spoke, I was staring into my amber glass of Muscat, contemplating the miracle, the “suchness” of the wine. It just so happens it truly was a remarkable thing to behold. The clear glass goblet, with its myriad reflections, was itself a visual spectacle and a marvel of lucid design. It seemed the perfect instrument to display what lay inside: an enclosed, miniature, sunset world, a windless ocean of wine; a crumb of cork floating like a microscopic ship; one translucent, planet-like bubble orbiting the sea’s round edge; and finally, the hue of the sea itself, a luscious honey-yellow, glowing with a radiance all its own, as if the crushing of the dusty, vine-ripened grapes had set free captured sunlight.

This is what the old Dutch masters observed when painting their gorgeous still lives, what art lovers flock to museums to see, crowding in close for a view.

A golden drink in a glass on a table.

“It looks so real,” we say—that is, so replete with “suchness.” The painted wineglass taunts the eye. It seems to contain some mystery. Look closely, it says. Look carefully. If your eyes can pierce the veil of Maya, you might just glimpse the Truth.

~excerpt from THE ASSASSIN LOTUS