Nice Intentions, But No Durian, Thank You

When you love someone, you want him to be happy. If he is not happy, there is no way you can be happy. Happiness is not an individual matter. True love requires deep understanding. In fact, love is another name for understanding. If you do not understand, you cannot love properly. Without understanding, your love will only cause the other person to suffer.

In Southeast Asia, many people are extremely fond of a big fruit with many thorns called durian. You might even say that they are addicted to it. Its smell is extremely strong, and when some people finish eating the fruit, they put the skin under their bed so they can continue to smell it. To me, the smell of durian is horrendous.

One day when I was practicing chanting alone in my temple in Vietnam, there appeared to be one durian on the altar that had been offered to the Buddha. I was trying to recite the Lotus Sutra, using a wooden drum and a large bowl-shaped bell for accompaniment, but I could not concentrate at all. I finally decided to turn the bell over and imprison the durian so I could chant the sutra. After I finished, I bowed to the Buddha and liberated the durian. If you were to say to me, “I love you so much I would like you to eat some of this durian,” I would suffer. You love me, you want me to be happy, but you force me to eat durian. That is an example of love without understanding. Your intention is good, but you don’t have the correct understanding.

~ Thich Nhat Hanh, Touching Peace

Recognition or Respect?

Which are we seeking, recognition or respect? What is the difference?

Merriam-Webster’s Unabridged Dictionary defines recognition as “acceptance of an individual as being entitled to consideration or attention.” When we perform well at work we may be rewarded with a raise. Or we may get a promotion and find our new office is now closer to the boss. Since so much of our daily life can be spent at work and the rest of our daily life can depend on how we do there, it is certainly understandable that we wish to do our work well. 

But a problem can occur if, in our attempts to win recognition, we sacrifice being deemed worthy of respect. In Lessons of the Lotus, Bhante Y. Wimala defines respect as “a spiritual acknowledgement of one human being by another human being simply because they are human beings.” While recognition can be a measure of work performance, respect is a measure of how we are doing as human beings.

Thus, the president of a company and the person who cleans her office may not receive the same recognition, but they both deserve respect.

It's too Noisy Here!

 

Question: How do I have a good environment for practice when I live in a city?

Response: When we think of Buddhist practice, our thoughts often turn to idyllic images of trees blowing gently in the breeze, birds calling, and the clear blue sky above. Okay, I'll confess that since I'm at the Amitabha Buddhist Retreat Centre in Nanango, Australia, the last sentence was easy to write because it's all outside my window. I'll add that on a distant hill ridge a few miles away I can also see a state forest to the east of here. 

But there aren't a lot of people living around here. The bulk of the population in Australia is in the cities, like in most other countries.

So, in the environment where most people live, how can the mind be quiet and the body at ease?

Actually, much of the agitation we feel is from self-imposed causes. We're curious. We're gregarious and enjoy the company of others. We're lazy and used to going wherever our wandering thoughts lead us. If we can learn to break some old negative habits and replace them with positive ones, we can find a good practice environment regardless of where we are.

Try to reduce the clutter in your mind. When you're out in the car, don't look at billboards. The images are designed to stir emotions like desire, anger, or fear. They're designed to get you to do something that wouldn't ordinarily occur to you. When you're at work, spend less time chatting and gossiping with others—another source of agitation.  

If you're at home and alone, leave the television turned off.  Programs, movies, the news are all made to keep the viewer's adrenaline pumping so they'll stay tuned through the commercials and see something they suddenly realize they can't live without. Don't read a lot of magazines and newspapers.  On the Internet you can check what you need to but don't get carried away and start clicking those special offers. And don't start aimlessly surfing. 

So much of the distractions in our lives are what we invite in. Instead, we can calm the mental clutter and begin to create that quiet, peaceful world where we are—in the city.

Er, Let's See, Where Were We?

Aging. Menopause. Nutrient deficiency. Which is the cause of forgetfulness?

For most of us, it's not really the above. It's not paying attention. Buddhists would say it was a lack of mindfulness.

Forgetfulness, lack of attention, whatever we call it, the cause is that we're simply trying to do too much. We joke about "multi-tasking" but it's the way a lot of us live. What can we do?

We don't need to add anything; that's what got us into this. We need to slow down, pay attention to what we're doing, and stop taking in all the useless information that bombards us everywhere we look and go. We keep getting hooked by all the things we're told are important when in reality they're all illusions. The activities, the ideas, the things don't make us happy. Rather, they make us forgetful by complicating our lives.   

We need to simplify. And decide what is really important.

The Window

There were two men, both seriously ill. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for hours on end.

They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation. Every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window. The man in the other bed began to live, for those one-hour periods, where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside.

The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color of the rainbow. Grand old trees graced the landscape, and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance.

As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene. One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man couldn't hear the band-he could see it. In his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words.

Days and weeks passed.

One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.

As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.

Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the world outside. Finally, he would have the joy of seeing it for himself. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed.

It faced a blank wall.

The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall. She said, "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you."

Epilogue: There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our own situations. Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when shared, is doubled.

~ Anonymous