As I molded the clay into an image of Jizo, his head fit snugly between my thumb and forefinger; his body in my loosely held fist.
At the end of meditation, I took one of my tiny Chibi pendants and used it as a stencil to create the little one on Jizo’s chest. I sensed that others might hold this and find comfort.
When I handed my statue to Terrence, he turned away from the crowded room and closed his eyes. After a long pause he turned and told me, “I was thinking this morning about the little boy I was.”
I know that, like Chibi — the little one — we all long to be seen, heard and understood. Even a man of Terrence’s stature. The Jizo’s promise to Buddha, 2500 years ago, was that he would remain on earth until all souls were finished suffering. No matter where we are on our path, whether we have followed our dreams or found new ones when doors closed, Jizo stands at every fork in the road to guide us. Either path is the right path. Mistakes are teachers, just as successes are.