Simile of the Saw

The Buddha once explained to the monks that there are five aspects of speech by which others may speak to them: “timely or untimely, true or false, affectionate or harsh, beneficial or unbeneficial, with a mind of good-will or with inner hate.” [i] In these circumstances, they should train themselves by thinking: “Our minds will be unaffected and we will say no evil words. We will remain sympathetic to that person's welfare, with a mind of good will and with no inner hate. We will keep pervading him with an awareness imbued with good will and, beginning with him, we will keep pervading the all-encompassing world with an awareness imbued with good will—abundant, expansive, immeasurable, free from hostility, free from ill will.” [ii]

The Buddha continued that even if robbers were to carve the monks up limb by limb, with a two-handled saw, the monk who became angry even at that would not be doing the Buddha’s bidding. He instructed the monastics that even under such circumstances, they needed to train themselves to maintain an unaffected mind and to continuously pervade the universe with thoughts of goodwill, by eliminating hatred and not speaking evil words.

The Buddha asked if there would be any speech they could not endure were they to follow this guid­ance. They responded that there was none. He then told them that they should call to mind often the Simile of the Saw, for doing so would bring them happiness and great benefit.

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[i] Thanissaro Bhikkhu, Kalama Sutta, AN III.65 (1994) (http://accesstoinsight.org/canon/sutta/anguttara/an03-065.html)
[ii] Ibid.

Our Test of Courage

It is easy to be lulled into a warm, fuzzy idea that Buddhism is just about sitting in meditation and being aware that we are supposed to be kinder people.

But Buddhism is more—much more—than that.

It is taking your fair share, but no more.

It is using what you need, not all that you want.

It is realizing that you are merely one of the almost seven billion people living in a closed world-system.

It is comprehending that you are now using the water, the air, the soil, the fuel that belongs to your children and grandchildren. We used up what belonged to us long ago. 

It is coming to terms with the fact that since you have money, and money is power, you are able to help drive the capitalist system. In this system, those with little money must raise the food and mine the resources to make the products that those with money want. Those with little money have no voice; they cannot be heard because the credit card terminals serving the wealthy drown them out.

To truly and wholly practice Buddhism means we understand that even innocent ignorance causes terrible suffering. But still worse is stepping out of ignorance and then deciding that we really don’t want to know the truth because it’s too uncomfortable, too difficult.

With wealth, and to a man in a third-world country working the land as his ancestors did anyone with a computer and internet connection is wealthy, goes a moral obligation.

Do we really want to cling to our lifestyle despite the knowledge that our indulgence has a terrible cost? People are starving because their land is taken by governments and multinationals who want to supply our desires. People are drowning because we are dumping massive amounts of carbon dioxide and methane into the atmosphere, causing sea levels to rise and climate disturbances to intensify.

We are at the peak of vital resources: oil and natural gas, water, topsoil. Demand is increasing while supplies are declining. Going up the petroleum production curve took over a century. Falling down the other side could take a few decades.

But regardless of the speed of the fall, we have reached the end of cheap oil, cheap natural gas, and cheap water. As I write this, people in countries around the world are facing a terrible decision.  Do they spend their money on heating or on food? They usually opt for heat. It takes longer to starve than it does to freeze to death.

For those who have no voice, for your children and grandchildren, please learn to want less, to take less. If this is not done now by choice, in the future there will no longer be a choice. And our children and grandchildren, struggling to survive in a world terribly different from the one we now enjoy, will wonder what in G-d's name we were thinking.

Letting it Go

The car slowed and came to a gentle stop. Before she could even pull the key out of the ignition, the back door was thrown open and slammed shut again. She stepped out of the car, leaned against it, and watched the small figure toddling along as fast as his short legs could carry him. He stumbled when he hit the sand and ended up on all fours, but he was up within a second and moving faster than ever. His small, wrinkled feet sprayed sand in all directions.

For a moment, she was enveloped in that same childish sense of excitement she had once known so well. She paused to breathe in the salty air and let the memories wash over her like the waves on the shore: the long drives squirming in the backseat with anticipation, the initial surge of excitement at the first shimmering glimpse of blue, the dash to the water’s edge, and the adrenaline rush that accompanied the shiver that always occurred at the first contact with the freezing water. But as soon as a wave comes it is gone again and this moment was no different. And just as it is useless to try to hold a wave and keep it captive on the shore, she could not chain her memories. She made no effort to do so but let them go without resisting and without regret.

With the push of a button, the trunk of Volvo station wagon popped open. She disappeared from the waist up and emerged holding a fire-truck red plastic pail and matching shovel. They had been forgotten by their owner in his haste.

She walked slowly, allowing the warm sand to flow between her toes until it was no longer warm but wet and soothing, conforming to the shape of her feet. She took one fragile hand in hers and traced the short, newly formed lines with one finger. She let go of his hand and it tightened on red plastic. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then she released her hold on the shovel, set the pail on the ground, turned around, and walked away. The beach chair remained in the trunk. There was no need for it. She sat directly in the sand and watched.

She watched him lay the strong foundation, pounding the sand with his fists until it was compact. She watched the towers appear, one by one, in the shape of the shiny red bucket. She watched the walls grow taller and taller and the moat grow deeper and deeper. Then she watched the long search and, finally, the discovery of the perfect shell for the very top.

She watched him dig frantically as the moat filled up. She watched the sand flung in horror on the top and sides of the wall in fruitless attempts to strengthen it and then just to keep it standing at all. She watched the look of pain overtake the young face. She watched the tears run down the smooth cheeks and become lost in the very water that had caused them. She watched the sobs that violently shook the small body, and she waited.

She waited as the shaking ceased and the tears stopped flowing. She waited as he wiped his red eyes to clear his blurry vision. She waited as the remains of a once glorious castle ran through his fingers and became undistinguishable from the rest of the beach. She waited as the same hand that had eagerly received the shovel sorted through the sand and grasped a broken piece of a seashell. She waited as he looked longingly at it for a moment, uncurled his fingers, and let it drop. And then she smiled.

~ This story was written by Elaina Faust, a student at Culver Academy. An attendee of Sacred Silence, she is in a class that has just concluded the segment on Buddhism.

All We Truly Know Is That We Truly Know Very Little

We are wisely taught that we need to be concerned about all other’s welfare, with a mind of good will and without hate. So, we need compassion not just for the abused but also for the one who is the abuser. One who hurts others does not understand causality, does not understand that by doing this he or she will continue to be pulled back again and again into the cycle of inflicting and receiving pain. People who hurt others do not understand that the persons they are hurting had hurt them in the past. By retaliating now, they are just perpetuating this cycle of pain.

We need sympathy and compassion to understand how both the victimizer and the victim are caught in this cycle. Unaware of the cause and effect that has brought them to this point; they are unable to act wisely. This is certainly understandable. How many of us have learned about causality? We should understand what is really happening when negative things occur in our lives. But when such things happen, how often are we able to remain calm and react wisely?

If we are sympathetic to others’ welfare while maintaining goodwill, commiseration, and loving-kindness for all people, then we will not judge others. We will not say that this person is right and that person is wrong because we will come to understand that we do not know what is really happening, that we will likely mis­take falsity for truth. But if we are able to regard both friend and foe with sympathy and loving-kindness, we will then be able to practice the nonjudgmental, unconditional giving of love and thus wish for all beings to be happy.

You have to be brave to take me out to lunch

Like other people who try to live a sustainable lifestyle, I'm trying to rethink everything I do. Since plastic can only be recycled once, recycling is best considered as a last resort. Not taking something in the first place or reusing something we already have is much better. So today, when Cameo asked me out to lunch after class, I hurriedly stuffed my plastic-fork-to-go into my pocket along with my little plastic box with chopsticks and spoon that I was given.

(So far the need to be brave hasn't arisen.)

Driving to the restaurant, my cell phone rang and while trying to get it out of my pocket, I dropped the plastic box and it spilled its contents. So it went back into my pocket to be added to the evening once-a-day-wash. Fortunately, the restaurant had washable cutlery so I didn't need to feel bad about not being able to use my take-along supply.

Then it happened. 

While we were eating, I saw a plastic bucket near the entrance to the kitchen. Those who attend my classes and have been in the center will understand my interest in plastic buckets. I allow very little water to go to waste. I reuse water from washing the dishes, catch the cold water while waiting for the hot, have a little bowl to catch the water from washing my hands in the bathroom sink and empty the bowl into the bucket, put the dishpan under the dripping faucet when the temperature drops so low the pipes could freeze, and do anything else I can think of to conserve water.

My problem is I have just one bucket, so I've been thinking of going to Goodwill to try to get a used one. 

Now, while sitting in the restaurant, I saw "my bucket." (Craving does pop up at the strangest times.) My bucket was the perfect size and looked very sturdy. It was one of those five gallon ones that are used so much in the food industry. Then, I spotted another one.  I was in bucket heaven!! Where there were two, there surely were more. I told Cameo about the buckets, trying to see if I would be brave (here it is) enough to ask the owner if she had any more buckets...any extra buckets.

Cameo seized the moment and asked the owner if she had any unused buckets. Understandably the owner was a bit confused about what we wanted but as soon as she understood, she went to look. Then she came back carrying a lovely bucket that even had a lid!

Ah, the simple pleasures of life as a Buddhist nun.

Other people in the restaurant were leaving with small take-home containers of leftovers. I walked out with a five-gallon bucket. White with red lettering. Very obvious.

It's a good thing Cameo is a brave woman or she'd probably never ask me out again for lunch...or anywhere else that might have buckets.