a buddhist perspective

Periodically someone will ask me about organ donation.

As Buddhists, we practice the six paramitas, or perfections, the first of which is giving. Wouldn't donating one's organs be a gift of great generosity?

First, let me give some background information. It takes many hours for the Alaya consciousness (the most subtle consciousness, which passes from one lifetime to another and that contains all our past karmas) to withdraw from our body. It takes so long because we are very attached to our bodies, viewing them as our "self."

While the consciousness is pulling out of the body, the body/consciousness is extremely sensitive to the lightest touch or even the gentlest breeze. This is why for a minimum of eight hours after a person has stopped breathing, we do not touch the body or even the bed on which the body is resting. Why? This is a time of great pain and difficulty, "like a turtle being skinned alive." If someone disturbs the body at this time, the consciousness will perceive it as an intense shock and very likely become angry. Since a person's final thoughts are what lead one to the next lifetime, we most certainly do not want to become angry during this time.

So in our decision to donate our organs, we need to ask "Have I attained the level of concentration at which my mind will remain perfectly calm while someone is cutting into my body and removing my heart, corneas, and so on?" If I can maintain this level of concentration, I can donate my organs. If I cannot, I have a very important decision to make for the wrong decision could cause me much suffering in my next life as the consequence of anger as one is withdrawing from one's body is rebirth into the hell realms.

As in everything we do, we need to temper our compassion with wisdom.
 

We have a responsibility to take care of ourselves now, while we are able. Those of us who have the means to do so should prepare for an uncertain future, because even in the best of times, the future is uncertain. And looking around us, we can see clearly that these are not the best of times.

Causality tells us that our lives are the result of our past actions. But either because we do not know this or do not believe it or simply forget about it in the heat of the moment, we blame others for our difficult situations. We blame our government, we blame big business, we blame anyone other than ourselves. But in our blaming others, we hand responsibility for ourselves over to others. 

We each need to take responsibility for and look after ourselves. This is not to be done out of selfishness. If my neighbor and I are both in trouble, the person who comes to help us will have two people to help. But if I have prepared for the trouble, then the rescuer and I can both help my neighbor.

And ideally, while I am making preparations for myself, I will extend a hand to help my neighbor prepare. And my neighbor will turn to help his neighbor, who turns as well. 

No, that's not allegorical, it's literally what we did today.

Here in Nanango, we're in early fall. Imagine it as a late summer day in Tuscany. Lots of sunlight and dry, clear air. In the grove on the side of gently rolling hill, there are 400 olive trees and thousands of beautiful olives. (Want to come yet? ;-))

Celine and I were picking the kalamatas (a favorite of mine), and Charles and Dave were up the hill picking a smaller but equally dark variety of olives. We had gotten a later start in the morning than planned because the olive trees owner's son, daughter-in-law, and grandson had been visiting and the latter had apparently been playing wth the phone. (Grandparents and parents will understand what this means, others can use their imaginations.)

When Celine couldn't get through on the phone, we all decided to get in the car and drive to Olive Oasis to see if Malcolm and Beverly Thompson were around. They were, and Mal joined us in the picking (after hanging up the phone).

If you’re wondering about a Buddhist nun picking olives; no, it’s not in the job description. But according with conditions and not wasting food are, so I happily joined in. The others were going and the olives needed to be picked. Celine had volunteered to help a friend harvest his crop and Mal had offered to split the profits from the sale of the olives at the monthly market this weekend. So our share would go the Amitabha Buddhist Retreat Centre.

First lesson—friendship. Celine and Charles wanted to help a neighbor who was recovering from an operation. Dave, an old friend of theirs, was visiting the centre to help all of us.

Second lesson—generosity. Not wanting to take advantage, Mal and Beverly offered to share the income from the sale of the olives.

Third lesson—patience! I picked a lot of blueberries when I was growing up and olives are, fortunately, larger than blueberries, but there were a LOT of olives and, hey, I’m not a kid anymore. (Unless you compare me to Charles who’s ninety-three. Fourth lesson—relativity in accordance with perception.) Some olives were over ripe and others still green. Some were high on the trees and others low. Some in the shade and many others in the bright sun.

The olives needed to be picked one at a time, although some were in a group of three or four. And some very cooperatively just fell off the branches and landed in my bucket. (Yes, buckets again…must be destiny or something…)

So today was a good day, a day filled with friendship, generosity, and patience.  

If we are sympathetic to others’ welfare while maintaining goodwill, commiseration, and loving-kindness for all people, then we will not judge others. We will not say that this person is right and that person is wrong because we will come to understand that we do not know what is really happening, that we will likely mis­take falsity for truth. But if we are able to regard both friend and foe with sympathy and loving-kindness, we will then be able to practice the nonjudgmental, unconditional giving of love and thus wish for all beings to be happy.

In the Monday morning class this week, I was talking about giving as a countermeasure for greed and craving. At the end of the talk, I said "When we learn to give as caring and generous people give—we will no longer feel tired. And even if we feel tired when we begin helping, after a while we will find that giving makes us feel more alert, happy, and energetic."

A former teacher who had taught for thirty-eight years raised a question about burnout. I know that her intentions, as were the intentions of all the wonderful teachers I know, had been to help children, not to benefit oneself.

Her excellent question provided an opportunity to elaborate on giving, one of the three forms of which is teaching. When we teach skills in school or in other surroundings, we are sharing what we know with others. By not holding anything back and teaching wholeheartedly, we will help people improve their lives. Obviously, learning how to provide for themselves and for their families is very important. But, the time frame for the helpful results is limited to, at the most, the person's current lifetime.

From the Buddhist perspective, the highest form of teaching is to teach about causality and the ways to awaken. These teachings provide benefits that are far more encompassing because they can improve not just this lifetime, but future lifetimes as well.

When we give unconditionally and spontaneously, we are giving from our true nature: the nature that wishes for all people to end suffering and attain happiness—forever.

Giving from our true nature and knowing that our wish is to help people not just for one lifetime, but for many lifetimes, is truly energizing.