I Know What I'm Doing, It's the Other Person Who Doesn't

 

It's really tough breaking those old habits.

I'm sitting in my room in one of the two nun's dormitories at the Pure Land College Association in Toowoomba. Outside my window, I can see the mist and slight drizzle that we've had since this morning. Periodically we've had some rain as well.

When the main gate is closed at lunchtime, people come and go using the walkway and gate in front of our house. My room is at the front of the house, so I look out on the walkway and the street. And as longer-term readers know, I do tend to look out the window when thinking. Or when I'm distracted from my work. ;-)

I just noticed a young woman walking out. She was carrying an umbrella, but wearing plastic slip-ons like you wear at the beach, not closed shoes. I immediately thought, "She'll get her feet wet. And in this chilly weather she could get sick."

Then it quickly occurred to me that I had worn sandals to lunch.

Oops.

Ah! But I had a good reason. I only go about eight paces until I'm under cover and remain so the rest of the way to the dining hall. So I'm perfectly justified. She's not.

Sigh.

Thank goodness, all this silliness only took a few seconds before I caught myself.

But this is what we do all the time. Find fault with what others are doing. If we happen to notice that we do the same thing, we quickly justify our own behavior. I have a good reason. Clearly the other person does not. I know what I’m doing, the other person doesn’t. I’m right, they’re wrong.

We do this all the time: observing, differentiating, criticizing, judging. Imagine how much more pleasant it would be to just clearly observe and stop there. Or at least observe clearly and think something pleasant.

As in, “Wow! Like the hot pink slip-ons!”

Ways I Have Changed Since Becoming a Pure Land Buddhist

Question: How do you feel you have changed since being a Pure Land Buddhist?

Response: I must confess this is an entry that never occurred to me. But the question is a very good one. Not because I have so much progress to report, but because what little progress I have made could encourage others. And even a little progress can make a definite difference in our lives.

Now for those changes...

I'm more patient

My mother noticed this one. This might well have been one of the first ways I changed since I remember her mentioning this when I was still a layperson.

This one I will always be exceptionally grateful for. I had the wonderful good fortune to live with my mother for the last three years of her life. She commented periodically that I was very patient with her. This was a blessing because it enabled her to worry less about being a burden, which she never was. Even my very imperfect patience improved what could have been a difficult situation and helped lead to many good times for both of us.

I’m calmer and struggle less

And I accord with conditions more. While I still try hard to meet my responsibilities, I’m improving at letting go when things don’t work out as hoped for. The struggling less is a relief. I understand causality much better then when I first read about it as a teenager.

I understand the person who always gives me a hard time is enacting something I created in the past. And that if I can resolve it—or at least not make it worse—things will be easier in my future. I realize that whatever I have or do not have is likewise the result of my own karmas. So there’s no one out there to blame. I realize that good thoughts and behavior today will improve my tomorrows; if not in this lifetime, then at some time in the future. I realize that having expectations sets one up for disappointment.

I’m more relaxed

This one is a result of the above changes. Being even a little more patient and accepting has reduced my daily stress. When I get upset or angry, I get over it more quickly than I used to. When I’m in a situation that is less than ideal (i.e. frequently), I can get out my chanting beads and start “Amituofo, Amituofo, Amituofo...” or simply chant silently to myself.

I smile more

This one is partially because I'm recognizable as a Buddhist nun. Being aware that I am noticeable and that most people guess what I am, I'm less invisible. And I’m very aware that I need to set a good example as a Buddhist. I must confess that giving up my invisibility was very difficult at first and can still be problematic at times. Basically, I prefer invisibility. I view my current situation as one of life’s little ironies. :-)

Being fairly practical, I decided some years ago that if people were going to think "Buddhist nun," I needed to be sure they didn't think "angry” or “unhappy” Buddhist nun. So I kept reminding myself to smile in public. Gradually, the rewards of my practice and studying caught up. Smiling is no longer something I need to keep reminding myself to do.

I’m less judgmental

Becoming increasingly aware of all the things I have done—and continue to do—wrong, I’m a bit less critical of others. Understanding causality helps on this one as well. We’re all just struggling to deal with what we created in the past. And in the cycle of rebirth, the degree of suffering will vary from person to person and realm to realm, but essentially we are all suffering. So it’s pointless and unthoughtful to get upset with others when they fail to follow the little scenarios in my mind.

I talk less

And thus I get into less trouble! It's amazing how much time we have to spend trying to undo the harm done after saying what we wish we hadn't. It's equally amazing how much time we can spend talking about nothing important. As is said “Speak less, chant more.”

I live more simply

Before I became a monastic I lived and worked in a one-bedroom apartment. Now I live and work in one room. Everything: personal items, work items, library, computers are all contained in a single room.

And a plain room at that. I have always loved color and even on a budget (and sometimes over) decorated my homes. Now the ambience of my room is "monastic cell." From colors and plants and silk flowers and paintings and family-treasured furniture, I have gone to white and taupe, and everything out of sight.

Also, almost everything I wear is brown and having been the style for Chinese monastics for well over a thousand years, is the ultimate "classic look." I say this humorously, but dressing simply does save a lot of thought and time—and money.

I work more

For someone brought up with a very strong work ethic, this is a benefit. Plus, since the "work" I do is what I chose and love (okay, most of the time ;-)), working more is a joy.

Most of my time spent working is on projects of my choosing. A fellow nun suggested I do a little book, so I did Heart of a Buddha. I thought an image of Amitabha Buddha suitable for someone's meditation table packaged along with chanting music would be helpful, so I did the writing and design work for Pure Land Chants. I thought a book with 365 daily thoughts would be helpful, so I did Path to Peace. Now I'm writing a children's book based on a Confucian classic. Also, I work on translations and have a dedicated and talented group of people to work with, so that too is most enjoyable.

I am happier

Thanks to all the above and much more,

I am happier since being a Pure Land Buddhist.

Two Brothers and One Umbrella

Even if you have little, you should share with your family.

If you do not share, your parents will be sad.

Once upon a time there were two brothers. One had an important job in the city, so he liked to wear the business hat he had bought on a visit to London. But since the hat, which the shop owner had called a derby, was brown, he liked to wear his red jacket with it to liven things up.

The other brother always wore French berets. His favorite was a purple one that went with his purple pants. Purple was his favorite color since he loved to drink French wine made from purple grapes. (He was very proud of being French and never ever, ever wanted to go to London.) Also, he worked in the local village so he didn’t need to look like a businessman.

Even though they dressed differently, the two brothers happily dwelled together in the house they had lived in since they were born. In fact, their parents also still lived in the house and the four enjoyed the arrangement immensely.

One morning it began to rain very hard. The brother who worked in the city suddenly realized he had forgotten to bring his umbrella home the day before. He needed to go to work but he didn’t want to get his brown derby and red jacket wet. The brother who worked in the village said he understood. After all, he would not want to get his purple beret and pants wet either.

The two brothers looked at each other. The parents looked at both their sons. The brothers looked at their parents. Then everyone turned together to look at the sole umbrella in the stand by the front door. And there they all stood, thinking.

The brother who worked in the village went into the kitchen and got a pair of scissors. He came back to the stand by the front door and said that his brother was more important to him than his umbrella. (Luckily, his umbrella was orange and not purple or things might have turned out very differently!)

He carefully cut the big, orange umbrella in half. Realizing what his brother was thinking, the brother who worked in the city took a cane that was also in the stand and with some string connected the cane to the half of the umbrella that had been cut off. The two brothers smiled at their new-styled umbrellas and agreed that if they both tipped their umbrellas just a little bit, both would manage to stay dry.

The parents beamed in approval at the selflessness (and cleverness) of their two sons. The brothers opened the door and walked down the front path side by side. At the sidewalk, they turned to wish each other a good day.

The brother in the brown derby and red jacked turned left to go to the train station to catch the 8:15 express to the city. The brother in the purple beret and pants turned right to walk down the street to the village. Their parents waved good bye and went back inside the house hand in hand.They smiled to each other with the knowledge that their lessons on sharing had paid off.

Moral

Sharing makes everyone happy.

Exclusive Pursuit

Recently, I was asked if I had noticed an improvement in certain abilities since I had been a nun for several years. Did my brothers perhaps have an increase in their abilities since they had been monastics for a longer time? For example, was I or my brothers better able to see auras?

Another recent question was how I would incorporate other practices into my Pure Land practice?

And a third was could someone (a Pure Land Buddhist) chant a certain mantra since it was said to reduce fear.

My response to all is "No.”

Whether it's trying to see auras or to develop other abilities, these would be distractions. And we become easily attached to our distractions. When I am chanting “Amituofo” or the Amitabha Sutra, I don't want to be distracted by any other practices. The best way to succeed on our path to enlightenment is exclusive pursuit. One goal—one practice.

Anything else takes time away from my first priority in this lifetime: rebirth in the Pure Land. Once there, I can develop other abilities and learn all the other methods the Buddha taught. There I'll have the best teachers: Amitabha Buddha and bodhisattvas who are further along the path than I.

All the methods to attain enlightenment taught by the Buddha are perfect. We just need to find the one that is suitable for us and then put all other methods and practices aside. Seeing auras and developing other abilities won't help me get to the Pure Land. So I set them aside.

Practices from other belief systems won't help me get to the Pure Land. So I set them aside.

For a Pure Land Buddhist, chanting a mantra from another method to reduce fear is not as effective as chanting “Amituofo.” First, for a mantra to be effective one must be focused on it from start to finish. So from a purely practical standpoint, the longer the mantra is, the greater are the chances of being distracted. I stand a much greater chance of remaining completely concentrated during “Amituofo” than during the recitation of a long mantra.

Even if I could focus perfectly during that mantra, for a Pure Land Buddhist, nothing surpasses becoming one with Amitabha Buddha. When my mind focuses solely on him, I become one with him. Being one with Buddha, how could I possibly feel fear? Why chant this mantra for one situation and that mantra for another? For them to work, I have to spend time perfecting my concentration in them. Why not devote my time to perfecting “Amituofo”?

Chanting mantras from other methods won't help me get to the Pure Land. So I set them aside.

It seems that as humans, we are always in a rush to acquire “more.” For many people that is more everyday stuff. But spiritual seekers take craving in a different direction. We’re like spiritual Oliver Twists. We too are asking “Please sir, more?”

Don’t seek more in a broader sense. Strive for it in a narrower sense. Instead of trying to pick up all the stones you see and lugging them around with you, pick one and keep polishing it until it shines with clarity and reflects perfectly.

Exclusive pursuit—pick one practice and perfect it.

Mrs. Black-whiskers Grey

I'm working on a book called How Will I Behave today (and the Rest of My Life?). My book is based on a Confucian classic that teaches children how to behave respectfully. Called Guidelines for Being a Good Person, it was taught by memorization of the 1080 Chinese characters.

Since the English translation is considerably longer, I'm using the time-tested treatment of stories to help kids learn the 113 principles.

This project is a bit ironic actually. Since I read the original translation and explanation in 2003, I have been saying, "This will never fly in the West." About a month ago, due to a misunderstanding, I volunteered to do a version designed for a western market. Immediately after I made a commitment to do this to my Teacher and he approved the project, I found out it had all been a misunderstanding. But I was already on the hook. (Perhaps there should have been a 114th principle: investigate carefully before opening your mouth. ;-))

Anyhow, understanding karma, I do realize I am supposed to be working on a children's book. For a person who answers the question "How old is the child" with "About this tall," my working on a children's book is rather a challenge. That said, I must admit writing stories is really fun. Hopefully, the kids who read the book will think reading them is fun also. Fortunately, I have an editor who is proving quite adept at regressing to the level of an eight or ten year-old child.

Without further ado, for those of you who have young children or who simply like stories here is the first story and the guidelines from Guidelines for Being a Good Person that it goes with.

You should keep to a regular routine.

You should not be constantly changing your mind.

Mrs. Black-whiskers Gray lived in a barn with her three little kittens. One was an orange tabby, one was solid green, and one pink with black spots. All three had their mother’s beautiful pink nose and sweet smile.

The three little kittens were very happy in the barn, which was filled with freshly cut hay that smelled so sweet and fresh. The hay provided many secret hiding places in which to play. Their mother took care of them and taught them what they needed to know to live safely in the world. She told them about the house she visited every morning and taught them about the other animals that lived on the farm.

One day, Mrs. Black-whiskers Gray returned to the barn and told them she had found a better home. Before they knew what was happening, she took them one by one to their new home: a big basket with lots of clothes in it that was on the back porch of the house. But that night there was a terrible storm with wind and thunder and lightning.

The kittens cried all night long and the next morning their mother told them she was so very sorry for taking them away from the barn. When the sun came out and all the puddles had dried up, she quickly carried them back, one by one, to the barn.

Then after several days, she came into the barn and told them excitedly that she had really found a better home this time. This time she took them to the shed where the chickens lived. She told her three kittens they would have fun playing with the baby chicks.

But that night when all the chickens came in to go to sleep there were so many of them that there was no space left for the three little kittens to lie down. All that was left was an old and very lumpy egg carton. They were very uncomfortable and cold in it and cried unhappily to their mother. Exhausted, they finally fell asleep.

The next day their mother again carried them, one by one, back to the barn. She apologized and said she wouldn’t change her mind again about where they would live.

But only a week had past when Mrs. Black-whiskers Gray came running in to the barn excited again. Being a little older and a lot wiser now, Orange Tabby looked at Green and Green looked at Pink. You could tell they were all nervous. Their mother said this time she had found a very special home and she was sure they’d love it. Being very dutiful, they didn’t protest. So again she carried them, one by one, this time to the back seat of an old car that wasn’t used any more.

But that night the family’s big, black and white dog jumped into the front seat and even though he smiled (as much as he could) and gently assured the little kittens that he wouldn’t hurt them, they were still scared because he was so big and seemed to fill the entire front seat. They huddled together and shook in terror until they finally fell asleep under the watchful eye of their mother who stayed awake all night thinking.

The next morning, she explained that they were her first kittens so she was still learning how to be a good parent. She now knew that that making many changes without good planning and careful thought could cause serious problems.

Then she carried them, one by one, back to the cozy corner in the hay barn where they had been so happy and safe and comfortable.

And never again did Mrs. Black-whiskers Gray casually change her mind.

Moral

Constantly changing our minds without careful thought

can create much trouble.