In This Life, Form Is No More Than Emptiness

The monk Chewu could never understand how he had so easily fallen into the entanglements of the mortal world. Just one glance had inexplicably filled him with joy, disrupting the long, peaceful years he had spent with a heart as clear as water. From then on, form was no longer emptiness, nor emptiness form. More than ten years of devoted practice were undone in an instant. He had repented before the Buddha day and night, yet in the end, he still could not understand. Such is the strange fate of being human. Men for women, women for men: no one knows where love begins, nor can the slightest difference be found. When fate arrives, no one can escape it. Love takes root deep in the heart. Forget desire, forget appearances. They are no more than a drop in the ocean.