“But how can I use Buddhism in everyday life?” 

The woman who asked me this added that she wasn’t a monastic—she lived in the real world, a world filled with deadlines, competition, and scrappy people.

Once I quit laughing, I explained that my life has many deadlines, human nature is rife with competition, and monastics also have people who don’t agree with them. And having worked all day that day, even eating my meals at the computer, I really did have a good idea of her world.

I then gave her an example of Buddhism applied in real life. A student told me of the time where she realized a supplier had misquoted a product’s price. Rather than take advantage of his error, this student questioned the pricing, which the grateful supplier quickly corrected. She could have saved a lot of money but knew it was not “right.” It would not have followed the Buddha’s teachings.

She is now trusted by the supplier and respected by his company. Why? She’s ethical.

This is Buddhism working in the “real world.” 

If you can’t understand, fix, or accept it . . . (Click image for video)

Pain will always be with us. 

When there is pain, suffering follows. 

(Part 2) 

Pain is not just physical. Because we have hearts and minds, we develop “emotional” pain. The pain from a banged-up knee is very different from the deep pain of losing someone we love. This pain of loss can also be more long-lasting. We know we will no longer see the one we miss and sometimes this just washes over us, and at the most unexpected moments.  

The loss hurts all the more because one moment we are happily doing something and then, in an instant, we remember. And once again, we feel like we are drowning in a never-ending sadness, one that never stops torturing us. The ground suddenly feels like it’s falling away from under us, and we find ourselves flailing away in space, insecure and alone. Our pain of having lost someone we loved and still miss very much is made worse by our continued suffering.

Pain is the loss, suffering is our grief. Will this torture ever end? We cannot stop the loss. The reality is that in samsara, we will lose all those we love. Perhaps to death. Perhaps to separation.

Pain is inevitable, but the degree of our suffering is not. 

At some point in our mourning, we will begin to realize that we can ease our suffering. This realization may come after we find ourselves walking around apologizing mentally to the one we just lost. Thinking of them is just too painful. But surely, our loved one would not want us in such a state. 

And so we gently close the door to suffering. And gradually, just as our loved one would want us to do, we open another door instead—the one that shows us happy memories. And even more gradually, when reminded of the one we lost, it is not grief that arises, but appreciation and gratitude that we were able to have the person in our lives as long as we did.