The Big Bright Electric-blue Plastic Basket

We had spent over a week cleaning the Pure Land College for the arrival of our Teacher, Venerable Master Chin Kung. This was not your ordinary cleaning. Everything was cleaned or organized or retouched or whatever was necessary to make it like new, but even cleaner. Buildings were swept down with brooms to remove the dust from the previous week's dust storm and the windows were washed. The gardens were weeded, the lawns mowed and edged, and the shrubbery trimmed. Plastic stools from the dining room were washed and the insulation under the metal roof over the parking lot was repaired.

Just as we all wanted, everything was perfect.

With one exception.

On the platform supporting a small water tank between our dormitory and the parking lot was a big electric-blue plastic basket. The houses, sheds, outbuilding, main buildings are beige. Everywhere you look is beige.

With that one exception.

The first time I saw the eye-catching electric-blue petrochemical marvel in front of the water tank, I moved it to behind the water tank and, thus, out of sight. Ahhh, much better.

But the next day the blue marvel was again in front of the water tank and in full view. (Possibly even from as far away as space…)

So I again moved it to behind the water tank. And again, this was much better.

Then, the next day there it was in front again. And so I moved it again. And there it stayed. Until (you guessed it) the next day.

On that day, looking at the big electric-blue plastic basket, I reached a decision.

I could live with it in front of the water tank. It really didn’t matter. Apparently it was where it was destined to be. And so, I let go. Not grudgingly. Not out of frustration. I let go because it just really wasn’t that important. And now, while I don’t walk by thinking “Wow, what a terrific big electric-blue petrochemical marvel of a basket,” I no longer feel an urge to move it either. It’s there. My mind is calm.

The basket, the basket mover, and I have learned to exist in harmony.

How?

By my not fussing with things that didn't need to be fussed over.

May We Learn from the Animals

May we have

the sense of humor and liveliness of the goats,

the maternal instincts and protective nature of the hens,

and the sassiness of the roosters.

May we have

the gentleness and the strength of the cattle,

the wisdom, serenity, and humility of the donkeys.

May we appreciate the need for community as do the sheep

and choose our companions as carefully as do the rabbits.

May we have the faithfulness and commitment to family as the geese

and the adaptability and affability of the ducks.

May we have the intelligence, loyalty, and affectation of the pigs

and the inquisitiveness, sensitivity, and playfulness of the turkeys.

May we learn from the animals

what we need to become better people.

~ Colleen Patrick-Goudreau, The Vegan Table

The Power of Trust

A truly virtuous person

is held in awe by others.

He is not afraid to speak the truth

and he does not fawn on others.

Nabeel was a quiet man by nature and a scholar by training. Admired by all who knew him, he treated everyone, even animals and the plants around his small mud house with respect and love. And when others needed help, he always stepped forward.

The villagers loved him for his kindness and sincerity. They delighted in his humility and virtuousness. Very simply, they were just in awe of him.

One day, a high-ranking government official rode into the village square on a handsome black horse and dismounted. His servants scrambled off their donkeys and rushed to the official’s horse. Suddenly some dogs began barking excitedly at the newcomers, and the horse reared in fright.

“You fools!” he shouted, striking the servants with his wooden staff. “You clumsy fools! You let my horse become frightened! I’ll teach you not to do that again.” And again he struck out at the cowering men.

Not daring to say anything to an important, powerful man, the gathering crowd of villagers looked on in horror.

The official was about to strike the servants again when Nabeel came through the crowd. He quickly moved in between the official and his cringing servants.

After calmly paying respects to the official, Nabeel said, “My lord, your servants were at fault, but so too were the dogs who frightened your horse. Since the dogs did not know any better and they belong to us villagers, then surely each of us is also at fault. So we should be punished as well.”

Nabeel turned to the crowd. “My friends, please line up behind me so the official can strike each one of us.”

The villagers were terrified and yet they trusted Nabeel completely. So even though they did not understand why he was putting them in such danger, they did as he asked.

The official watched in amazement as every man, woman, and child lined up behind Nabeel. There they quietly stood with heads bowed, too frightened to look directly at such an important man. Too confused to even speak to one another.

When they were all in line behind him, Nabeel turned back to the official and calmly looked into his eyes. “My lord, we are ready. Beginning with me, please strike each one of us in turn for the fright our dogs gave your poor horse.”

The official gazed back at Nabeel. Even in the capital, few people dared to look him in the eye, much less stand up to him. Yet, here was this old man in this out-of-the-way village doing just that. But that was not all. This old man had, with just a few words, got every person in the village to do as he said!

The official was no longer angry—he was intrigued. He looked at Nabeel and asked simply, “How?”

Nabeel smiled. “My lord. In truth, it was no one’s fault that your horse was frightened. It was an accident. And you cannot deal out punishment for an accident anymore than you can justly punish a whole village for it.”

“Also, trust and respect can overcome fear. But trust and respect have to be earned. And fear? Fear is a weapon, and weapons accomplish little that is good. So my lord, it is much wiser to move people through trust than with fear.”  

A virtuous person

is respected and loved by all who know him.

Homemaker Bodhisattva

The other day I was listening to someone who was talking about his family. At one point, he was relating how much his wife disliked doing housework. And so to have a clean house, he cleaned it. Another person with us commented that it would be very different if only his wife could view the housework as a way of giving to her family.

Suddenly, I remembered something Teacher said many years ago:

If we are housewives, we practice giving when we do housework every day to make our houses comfortable for our families. A housewife without the mindset of giving would think that doing housework every day is tedious and boring. She would get tired of it. A Buddhist practitioner would think that she is practicing the Bodhisattva Path—the Six Paramitas—every day and is thus very happy.

A different mindset makes a world of difference.

We are practicing the paramita of giving because we give ourselves to our families.

But it does not stop here because we affect not just our families. If we take good care of our families and we become model families, we would be able to influence our neighbors, our relatives, and our friends.

This struck home because I'm sure we have all felt like that woman. Perhaps we found ourselves doing work we did not like to do. Perhaps we were given extra work to do when we were already very busy with our own. Or perhaps we were given something to do that was beyond our level of competence. 

Whatever the reason, we had something to do that we were unhappy with. Our mindset became one of resentment, frustration, self-pity. We became agitated. Or we just wanted to go to sleep. Whatever we felt, it wasn't good.

Then we remember—a different mindset makes a world of difference.

This is what practice is all about. Redirecting the mind from the negative to the positive. Transforming the mind with the practice of bodhisattvas, the practice of the first paramita, the paramita of giving.

Something to strive for—giving with the unrestrained, all-encompassing mind of an awakened being.

Real Buddhists Sit in Meditation. Right?

Question: Could you please send me an explanation as to why, as Pure Land Buddhists, we should always be Mindful of Buddha (Nien-Fo) and why we should chant the Buddhas name as much as possible. Our little Sangha thinks that I must be crazy to chant the Buddhas name. Real Buddhists sit in meditation. Maybe they will listen to you, they sure do not listen to me on this subject. :-)

Response: It takes three great eons—billions of billions of years—for us to become enlightened through personal practice. The Buddha attained enlightenment through meditation because he had practiced for those billions of years and had finally reached the point where he was just one breath away from enlightenment. He was able to let go of all attachments—all attachments—and to perfectly calm his mind. Perfectly and continuously. He was able to slip the boundaries of space and time, and perceive universal, unchanging truths.

This was something even the two most highly accomplished meditation masters of his time had not been able to accomplish. If even they were unable to match the Buddha's achievement, how can we be sure we can?

And what if we cannot?

We will continue to be reborn in the cycle of rebirth, to continue suffering. Unable to help ourselves. Unable to help others.

The Buddha knew this. And he taught the Pure Land method, taught us to single-mindedly chant "Amituofo" to end our suffering and that of others.

To attain lasting happiness and help others attain it as well.

So we're not crazy...we're doing what the Buddha wisely and compassionately advised us to do.