Norman
133. Afflicted by grief for my son, with mind deranged, out of my senses, naked, and with dishevelled hair, I wandered here and there.
134. I dwelt on rubbish heaps in the streets, in a cemetery, and on highways; I wandered for three years, consigned to hunger and thirst.
135. Then I saw the well-farer who had gone to the city of Mithila, the tamer of the untamed, the awakened one, who has no fear from any quarter.
136. Regaining my mind, I paid homage to him and sat down. In pity Gotama taught me the doctrine.
137. I heard the doctrine from him and went forth into the houseless state. Applying myself to the teacher’s utterance, I realized the blissful state.
138. All griefs have been cut out, eliminated, ending in this way; for I have comprehended the grounds from which is the origin of griefs.
Weingast
When a child dies, everyone grieves.
But a mother’s grief is different.
Not more real or more important.
Just different.
I can talk about it like this now.
Back then I just wandered from place to place.
I don’t know if I ate.
I don’t know if I slept.
From the bottom of that darkness,
I heard a voice.
It was just a whisper,
so I leaned towards it—
and became
a bucket
pulled slowly up
from the bottom of a well.
In the same way,
I called out to my grief
and drew it towards me.
I held my grief and gently rocked it.
Shhh, I said.
There, there.
There, there.
People sometimes ask,
Wasn’t it painful?
Weren’t you afraid?
Yes, it was painful.
So is giving birth.
Oh, my heart,
you mustn’t fear
the pain.