In the Nick of Time

During this month's retreat at the Amitabha Buddhist Retreat Centre in Nanango, we were discussing how Buddhas and bodhisattvas come to this world to help us. They may come as ordinary beings to teach us through their behavior. They may come to help us by stopping us from making mistakes. They may come to show us what kindness really is. As ordinary beings they might be our neighbor, co-worker, family member, friend, or a stranger.

It is their basic goodness and their quality of seeming quite ordinary that helps us learn from them. It is their kindness and compassion that touches us. They may be high-level bodhisttvas well-advanced in their practice or they may be lower-level bodhisattvas working diligently on their practice.

I had ended by saying that not knowing whether the person we are regarding is a bodhisattva or simply an ordinary being like us, it behooves us to treat everyone as a bodhisattva.

I thought of this a few minutes ago in the kitchen of our dormitory. After several days of summerlike weather, Sunday brought a sudden return of cold weather with both rain and fog. Not having my winter clothing here, I wasn't that inclined to go out to the dining hall for dinner. Instead, I went to our kitchen to see if I could find something simple to heat up.

This is actually a risky undertaking because virtually all the food in our dorm comes from Taiwan or China. This is not the produced in China food that we see in the West with all the labeling written in English. The writing on these packages of food is all in Chinese. I was focusing on the pictures on the packages and looking for something that looked familiar.

I had pulled out one possible bag and was looking intently at it (apparently thinking that my concentration would enable me to miraculously read Chinese) when one of the nuns came into the kitchen. Seeing the bag in my hand, she laughed softly and said "No, that's from China." I immediately realized that what she graciously meant was that it was something from China that I would not like. I laughed with her and put the bag back, grateful once again that my brothers all know what I can and cannot eat.

My thoughtful brother then carefully examined the cabinet and pointed out two bags, one with an almond powder mixture and another with black bean powder, and while still softly laughing said I would enjoy those two together. I mixed them and of course, she was absolutely right, they were delicious.

As I said the other day, we just never know when a bodhisattva will come to help.

More Stubborn than the Proverbial Mule

As humans, we are so stubborn!

We put off doing something even though we know we always feel good doing it. Then, when we find ourselves having to do that something, having to do what we know is right, we again feel good. Just like we had remembered from before! While doing what was right, we felt like this was exactly where we were supposed to be, and we were doing exactly what we were supposed to be doing.

While engrossed in our activity, and for some time afterwards, we feel so happy for we did was truly important.

But what happens the next time we are supposed to do that activity? We hesitate! We look for excuses. We procrastinate until it is too late and the day is over.

As I said, we humans are very stubborn.

We find it so difficult to break our bad habits because it is so much easier not to do so. But break them we must.

Simple, But Not Easy

We do not need to wait for the big challenges in life to to work on developing our virtue. We can work at increasing virtue in small, everyday ways. We can practice moderation in eating just what we need to be healthy and in sleeping just enough to be rested. We can work on our patience while waiting in line at the post office and on our impartiality when two children are each telling us their version of how the glass was broken.

Gradually, we will become more adept at our practice and as we encounter life's more difficult challenges, we will be better skilled at reacting wisely and calmly.

I realize this sounds very simple and obvious, but unfortunately, even small acts of virtue require much effort on our part to accomplish them perfectly. So while this may sound simplistic and repetitive, the question we need to ask ourselves is "Am I doing this one-hundred percent of my time with one-hundred percent of my effort?"

If not, we still have room for improvement.

Remember to Remember

When things are going well,

be mindful of adversity.

When prosperous,

be mindful of poverty.

When loved,

be mindful of thoughtfulness.

When respected,

be mindful of humility.

The Luck of the Caregiver

  

 

Being a caregiver can be exhausting and frustrating. The hours are long and the work often lonely. Caregivers lose their freedom and can feel trapped by circumstances they no longer control. The patient may well have a condition from which he or she will not recover, so the caregiver often has to handle growing feelings of loss and the resultant grief. And fear.

A caregiver—even one who starts out with love and enthusiasm—can quickly feel overwhelmed, saddened, and powerless.

But even in this most difficult situation, there can be joy and gratitude.

How often have we heard someone say after the death of a parent, “I thought I had more time.” Thinking there would be enough time in the future, the person didn’t get around to visiting or even to call very often. They had other commitments. They were busy at work or at home. They had things they had looked forward to doing. And after all, there was enough time.

And then suddenly one day, it was too late. There was no more time.

There was no more time to go over photos together and hear the family stories again. No time for visits on a cold winter night with a cup of tea and “Remember when...?” No chance to look into the loved one’s eyes and say thank you, and for them to smile and say "thank you" back. No more time for joy and gratitude.

Too much time for regret.

But the caregiver?

The caregiver has so much time! So many ways to say thank you. So much time to share a cup of tea. So many opportunities to hug a parent or a spouse and say, "I want to do this" and "I’m not going to leave you." So many ways to say without words, “Don’t be afraid, I’m here.” So much time for the unexpected silliness and shared laughter. So many wonderful memories.

And little need for regret.