The Antique Vase

Well, the blue skies favored us for only a day. It has been scorching (113 degrees tomorrow) and miserable. Air quality very unhealthy...headaches and irritated eyes again. Upon leaving the house for work this morning, I found ash all over the car. And later today, old Magalia, and the entire east side of Paradise was under immediate mandatory evacuation orders, and more of my little town was under precautionary evacuation. The hospital where my children were born has evacuated its patients. The fire situation grows more and more serious. My heart is worried. So stressful on so many people, many of whom are elderly. We will get very little sleep tonight. Tomorrow it will be one month since the start of the Humboldt fire and the steady stream of new fires and threat of fires and the unknown.

Although I have lived many more years in Chico, Paradise remains my nostalgic home town. I wonder what would I pack. A daunting task for sure. No doubt every nook and cranny of my car would be full. And if the cat has to be on my lap as I drove, that would be ok. I know a woman who is being evacuated for the second time and she brings just her animals. A few important papers and that's it. An empty car. She seems to become overwhelmed by it all and calmly just decides to do nothing as it can all be replaced. Part of me wants to tell her to snap out of it and pack some photos, instruments, pebbles from the beach, grandma's china, anything.....dammit, and part of me admires her non-attachment to the material things. She is clearly not owned by her belongings. It brought to mind a beautiful parable I stumbled upon years ago.

The Antique Vase by Derek Lin

There was a general in ancient China who retired after many years of military service. Not wishing to sit around doing nothing, he took up the hobby of collecting antiques.

One day, he sat in his study to admire his latest acquisition – a small antique vase. It was expensive but worth it. He turned it this way and that, examining the exquisite patterns that ancient craftsmen had worked into it.

Suddenly, a careless movement of his fingers caused the vase to slip from his hands. The general tried to catch it, but its slick surface was difficult to grasp. He dove forward to try again. It was a close call, but he finally managed to hold on to it, mere inches from the floor.

The general's heart was pounding rapidly. His breathing was frantic. He gripped the vase tightly and stood up slowly. After a while, he was able to regain some composure.

He was relieved to have avoided damage, but something was not right. Instead of elation, he felt only puzzlement. "In all my campaigns," he thought to himself, "charging against the enemy, leading men into battle, even facing much bigger armies than mine… I never felt as much fear as I did just now. Why?"

Throughout his military career, the general always recognized the possibility of losing his life, but it didn't frighten him at all. Somehow, on this particular day, the possibility of losing the vase frightened him a lot.

In an instant of clarity, he saw the problem. He had become too attached to the vase. That attachment was the cause of emotional turmoil. He looked at the vase again, seeing it in a completely different light. Then, with his mind perfectly at ease, he relaxed his hands. The vase dropped and shattered into pieces.