Chicken a la Carte

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Chicken a la Carte : Director: Ferdinand Dimadura | Genre: Drama | Produced In: 2005

Synopsis: This film is about the hunger and poverty brought about by Globalization. There are 10,000 people dying everyday due to hunger and malnutrition. This short film shows a forgotten portion of the society. The people who live on the refuse of men to survive. What is inspiring is the hope and spirituality that never left this people.

How Atifeh Helped Her Parents

When something pleases our parents and is proper,

we should try our best to provide it for them.

When something displeases them,

we should not do it.

Long ago there lived a girl who was called Atifeh, which meant “Gentle.” Her parents had named her this because as a newborn baby she was so sweet that they marveled at her good nature.

Atifeh lived with her family on a farm in a beautiful valley. As did most people in the valley, the family had some sheep. They also had a large, impressive ram who looked out for the herd and protected them from danger. Atifeh’s father cut the wool from the sheep every year for her mother to spin and make into beautiful clothing and blankets.

As Atifeh grew up, she began to help her parents around the farm. She helped clean the house and water the plants, and brought things when her parents asked for them.

She also loved to feed grass to the baby sheep in the springtime. As she played, she delighted in the butterflies and the birds and the small animals. She would sit very quietly under the big oak tree and wait for them to come to her so she could feed them crumbs from the bread her mother baked. Not having any brothers or sisters, she regarded the animals as her family and cared for them as a big sister would a younger one.

When Atifeh was about five years old, her mother told her it was time to start learning how to cook. Atifeh was very excited because she loved to eat her mother’s delicious food, but had no idea how it was prepared or even what it was!

Her mother told her to ask her father for some carrots and potatoes from the garden. Atifeh happily went to her father to ask him for the vegetables. He smiled fondly down at her and pulled out some carrots and potatoes, put them into a small basket, and handed it to Atifeh. Carefully holding the basket, she walked back to the kitchen and handed the basket up to her mother.

Then her mother asked her to get some of the herbs that grew outside the kitchen door. Atifeh went outside, picked some of the leaves, and brought these to her mother as well.

Her mother beamed at her and said since Atifeh was learning to cook, she would teach her how to make a very special dish: lamb stew. But for this they would need the special ingredient, which was lamb. She told Atifeh to go and ask her father to prepare one of the sheep.

Atifeh went dutifully to her father and told him what her mother had said. Curious, she asked, “Father, what is lamb?” Her father knelt down on the ground so he could look directly into her eyes and softly replied, “A lamb is a baby sheep.”

Atifeh froze. She couldn’t speak at first. She just looked at her father in shock. Then she very slowly shook her head and mouthed a silent “no.” She turned and ran back to the kitchen, with her father following her. His gentle daughter had never said “no” to him before.

Back in the kitchen, Atifeh was trembling and struggling to come up with just the right words. Finally, she looked at her mother and said, “Mother, when you wanted the carrots and the potatoes, I got them for you. When you wanted the herbs I brought those to you as well. But Mother, to kill a lamb is wrong. You and father have always taught me to care for animals and never to harm them. As much as I want to be a good daughter, I cannot because I will not tell father to kill a sheep.”

Then Atifeh stopped talking. She turned her eyes downward and stared at the floor. She was expecting a scolding for surely her parents would be very angry at her refusal to do what she was asked. Instead, her parents were speechless, shocked that their gentle daughter had spoken so strongly. They looked at each other and both realized what else could a girl named “Gentle” do? They thought about what she had said.

Atifeh’s mother sat down on the chair next to the table and took Atifeh in her arms. Smiling, she said, “We have always taught you to live up to your name, to care for all living beings, and to respect everything around us. Atifeh, you are right. Killing is wrong. From now on, the sheep will give us their wool, but not their lives. We will not kill any more sheep.”

That night, Atifeh went to the ram who was watching over the sheep to tell him good night. Since he was their guardian, she reported to him what had happened. She saw deep gratitude in his eyes.

For many years after that, Atifeh would go to say good night to the ram and he would look at her and offer a silent, “Good night, Atifeh. And thank you.”

Who'd Have Thought

I have been attending the weekly class on Guidelines for Being a Good Person and must admit that this morning my mind wandered to the question of the necessity of manners. I wasn't doubting. I was becoming more convinced.

People I have mentioned my latest writing project to have questioned in various ways, the reason for working on the book. An almost universal response is that yes we need behavioral guidelines because children today are so unruly.

So if the response is shared by many people, why do we have the problem? Is it just that I'm asking those in older generations? Regardless of the answer, another question arises. How did we get to this point? And why is it important?

Some would say it is the breakdown of the family. And this is what occurred to me this morning. As families are split due to divorce, separation, etc., they move into separate homes. Studies have indicated that when possible, neither adult wishes to sacrifice their standard of living so the spouse who leaves tries to move into a home of a comparable size. And yes, this only occurs when the financial situation allows.

We also have single people living in a society in which this is acceptable. I’d imagine that even as recent as the beginning of the last century, it was much more unusual for unmarried child to move out into their own home. But today it's normal so we have people living on their own and not having to follow any behavioral rules. They can do what they want when they want.

But times are changing again, to say the least. With the increasing global recession occurring at the same time as resource depletion and a rapidly-increasing population, it's becoming much more difficult for people to live on their own and do what they wish. In the news we're hearing more stories of three generations moving in together to try to hold on to the grandparent's home as their children lose theirs to foreclosure. We're also seeing people moving in together--the story of a working mother worried about her job and her young daughter moving in with a couple whose finances were also becoming strained--comes to mind.

What's my point? This began as a wandering thought, but yes I do have a point. ;-)

Our living space has been expanding. With more space and fewer people, simple good manners became less important. People spent much of their time on their own doing their own thing even when in a house with others. Families have fewer children so parents are now more indulgent of the one or two they have. (It was a lot tougher to be indulgent when you had six or eight kids.)

Now people are beginning to find themselves moving back in with their families or with extended families. The reality is, we're going to be spending more time living together. This is not just a trend; this is a change in the way future generations, beginning now, will live.

So this is the time to begin to learn how to live with larger families and with others who think as we do and who come together to live. The time to learn how to live with the brother-in-law who raised his kids very differently than the way you did. The time for older children to learn to look out after the younger ones and the younger ones to learn that the older ones may know something after all. Now is the time to start remembering what our parents used to teach us about, of all things, etiquette.

So it's beginning to look like my working on a modern children’s book based on a Confucian classic that teaches manners isn’t so bizarre after all.

I Know What I'm Doing, It's the Other Person Who Doesn't

 

It's really tough breaking those old habits.

I'm sitting in my room in one of the two nun's dormitories at the Pure Land College Association in Toowoomba. Outside my window, I can see the mist and slight drizzle that we've had since this morning. Periodically we've had some rain as well.

When the main gate is closed at lunchtime, people come and go using the walkway and gate in front of our house. My room is at the front of the house, so I look out on the walkway and the street. And as longer-term readers know, I do tend to look out the window when thinking. Or when I'm distracted from my work. ;-)

I just noticed a young woman walking out. She was carrying an umbrella, but wearing plastic slip-ons like you wear at the beach, not closed shoes. I immediately thought, "She'll get her feet wet. And in this chilly weather she could get sick."

Then it quickly occurred to me that I had worn sandals to lunch.

Oops.

Ah! But I had a good reason. I only go about eight paces until I'm under cover and remain so the rest of the way to the dining hall. So I'm perfectly justified. She's not.

Sigh.

Thank goodness, all this silliness only took a few seconds before I caught myself.

But this is what we do all the time. Find fault with what others are doing. If we happen to notice that we do the same thing, we quickly justify our own behavior. I have a good reason. Clearly the other person does not. I know what I’m doing, the other person doesn’t. I’m right, they’re wrong.

We do this all the time: observing, differentiating, criticizing, judging. Imagine how much more pleasant it would be to just clearly observe and stop there. Or at least observe clearly and think something pleasant.

As in, “Wow! Like the hot pink slip-ons!”

Ways I Have Changed Since Becoming a Pure Land Buddhist

Question: How do you feel you have changed since being a Pure Land Buddhist?

Response: I must confess this is an entry that never occurred to me. But the question is a very good one. Not because I have so much progress to report, but because what little progress I have made could encourage others. And even a little progress can make a definite difference in our lives.

Now for those changes...

I'm more patient

My mother noticed this one. This might well have been one of the first ways I changed since I remember her mentioning this when I was still a layperson.

This one I will always be exceptionally grateful for. I had the wonderful good fortune to live with my mother for the last three years of her life. She commented periodically that I was very patient with her. This was a blessing because it enabled her to worry less about being a burden, which she never was. Even my very imperfect patience improved what could have been a difficult situation and helped lead to many good times for both of us.

I’m calmer and struggle less

And I accord with conditions more. While I still try hard to meet my responsibilities, I’m improving at letting go when things don’t work out as hoped for. The struggling less is a relief. I understand causality much better then when I first read about it as a teenager.

I understand the person who always gives me a hard time is enacting something I created in the past. And that if I can resolve it—or at least not make it worse—things will be easier in my future. I realize that whatever I have or do not have is likewise the result of my own karmas. So there’s no one out there to blame. I realize that good thoughts and behavior today will improve my tomorrows; if not in this lifetime, then at some time in the future. I realize that having expectations sets one up for disappointment.

I’m more relaxed

This one is a result of the above changes. Being even a little more patient and accepting has reduced my daily stress. When I get upset or angry, I get over it more quickly than I used to. When I’m in a situation that is less than ideal (i.e. frequently), I can get out my chanting beads and start “Amituofo, Amituofo, Amituofo...” or simply chant silently to myself.

I smile more

This one is partially because I'm recognizable as a Buddhist nun. Being aware that I am noticeable and that most people guess what I am, I'm less invisible. And I’m very aware that I need to set a good example as a Buddhist. I must confess that giving up my invisibility was very difficult at first and can still be problematic at times. Basically, I prefer invisibility. I view my current situation as one of life’s little ironies. :-)

Being fairly practical, I decided some years ago that if people were going to think "Buddhist nun," I needed to be sure they didn't think "angry” or “unhappy” Buddhist nun. So I kept reminding myself to smile in public. Gradually, the rewards of my practice and studying caught up. Smiling is no longer something I need to keep reminding myself to do.

I’m less judgmental

Becoming increasingly aware of all the things I have done—and continue to do—wrong, I’m a bit less critical of others. Understanding causality helps on this one as well. We’re all just struggling to deal with what we created in the past. And in the cycle of rebirth, the degree of suffering will vary from person to person and realm to realm, but essentially we are all suffering. So it’s pointless and unthoughtful to get upset with others when they fail to follow the little scenarios in my mind.

I talk less

And thus I get into less trouble! It's amazing how much time we have to spend trying to undo the harm done after saying what we wish we hadn't. It's equally amazing how much time we can spend talking about nothing important. As is said “Speak less, chant more.”

I live more simply

Before I became a monastic I lived and worked in a one-bedroom apartment. Now I live and work in one room. Everything: personal items, work items, library, computers are all contained in a single room.

And a plain room at that. I have always loved color and even on a budget (and sometimes over) decorated my homes. Now the ambience of my room is "monastic cell." From colors and plants and silk flowers and paintings and family-treasured furniture, I have gone to white and taupe, and everything out of sight.

Also, almost everything I wear is brown and having been the style for Chinese monastics for well over a thousand years, is the ultimate "classic look." I say this humorously, but dressing simply does save a lot of thought and time—and money.

I work more

For someone brought up with a very strong work ethic, this is a benefit. Plus, since the "work" I do is what I chose and love (okay, most of the time ;-)), working more is a joy.

Most of my time spent working is on projects of my choosing. A fellow nun suggested I do a little book, so I did Heart of a Buddha. I thought an image of Amitabha Buddha suitable for someone's meditation table packaged along with chanting music would be helpful, so I did the writing and design work for Pure Land Chants. I thought a book with 365 daily thoughts would be helpful, so I did Path to Peace. Now I'm writing a children's book based on a Confucian classic. Also, I work on translations and have a dedicated and talented group of people to work with, so that too is most enjoyable.

I am happier

Thanks to all the above and much more,

I am happier since being a Pure Land Buddhist.