a buddhist perspective

Question: I work in the field.  Most often in bad areas where dogs are abandoned, hurting and abused.  Today I found one who's pelvis had been broken and her little leg.  There is no telling how long she'd been this way, how many people had passed her by.  I had to put her to sleep which has hurt me so much all day.

Please help me to understand why people do this.....why they would let this poor little dog suffer like this, living on the street unable to walk.  I carry each of these homeless and neglected animals with me and they stay in my head burdening my heart and mind with horrible sorrow.  I cannot let them go.

Response:  It is terrible how people can be cruel to animals or simply uncaring when they suffer. What you did for that poor dog was truly compassionate, wanting to alleviate the suffering of others, even though it caused your own suffering.

You asked how this can happen. Obviously there are people whose thinking is so disturbed that they need to hurt others. Then there are those who, unlike you, do not have the courage to become involved. Or perhaps who feel that they do not have the time. I imagine there are many different reasons, but they come down to people being in too much pain themselves to be able to take on the suffering of others. And so they inflict pain or block it out.

You do not block the animals suffering and thus you take on their suffering. But once you have helped, you need to let go or it will haunt you and, as you said, stay with you. May I suggest trying a small ceremony. Light a candle or incense and say something meaningful as a wish for the animals happiness. A Pure Land Buddhist, for example, could chant "Amituofo."

Then speak to the animal, saying it is time to move on to the next birth and that your wishes are for it to have a better next life. Than, knowing that you have helped the animal physically and spiritually, you may be better able to "let go."

Question: I am deeply sorrowed and devastated by the Death of my Mother. I chanted "Namo Amitabha Buddha" hundreds of times repeatedly twice a day for almost 49 days since my beloved Mother died on Jan. 1, 2008 and I "asked" the Amitabha Buddha to witness/certify that I was transferring merits to my Mother and that with His Great Compassion He would help deliver my Mother to His Pure Land. I tried to connect my thought with my Mother and talked with her as though she was still alive to remind her of her good deeds and her "connection/involvement" with Buddhism when she was alive. I asked my Mother to think of Amitabha Buddha and chant His name and ask to be delivered to the Pure Land.

My burning question is to know where Mother is now. I need confirmation. Please, please help. Will she contact me...? How can I get in touch with her? I am like a lost bleeding soul wandering about life now that my Mother is gone. I missed Her so, so, so, so much. I want my Mother back. I deeply regret that I didn't do enough to help around when she was alive. Where is my Mother now? Please, please reply.

Thank you so much for your time.

Response: I am so very sorry to hear of your loss. So often when people write to me, I reply as best I can but explain that I am unable to truly feel what they are experiencing. But in responding to you, I can honestly say that I do understand how you feel. And that I am truly sorry for your loss and your suffering.

My mother died October 8, 2006. I too chanted for forty-nine days and tried to form a connection with her, to talk with her as if she was still with me and to encourage her to go to the Pure Land.

Like you, my burning thought was “Where is she now?” The thought that she might be suffering, the not knowing where she was caused me much pain. I too missed my mother, and still miss her, so very much. I too regretted that I didn’t do all that I could. I also regretted that I was not as patient as I should have been and that I was not a better daughter. So Peter, I do know your suffering.

That said, I do not have the ability to know where my mother—or your mother—is. I do not know whether your mother will contact you. But I do know we need to let our mother’s move on to their next life, whether it is in the Pure Land or again within samsara. Our grief is our own, we do not want it to pull our mothers back to us for that would cause them further suffering. Knowing we did not do as much as we could when they were alive, we need to try to do as much as we can now.

Please know that it may not be ours to know where our mothers now are. Also know that the suffering from your loss will ease. That sounds trite but it is true. I speak from experience. When my mother died, I wrote some entries here in the blog in the hope they would help others just a little bit. A few of them are here, here, and here. The rest are under the categories death and grief.
 

Periodically, I receive a letter or an email recounting something that has happened and the individual's reaction to that event. Like the following, such correspondence often shows remarkable clarity and dedication in spite of much personal pain.

In painful times, we realize again that the wish to alleviate the suffering of all beings is the underlying source of strength for our practice. 

Dear Venerable,

Amituofo. My father was rushed to the hospital today. He has contracted a virulent, drug-resistant staph infection. I fear for his life. Life has conspired, along with sundry books, to teach me living, breathing lessons about karma, impermanence and no-self, attachment and aversion. Death is our constant companion from birth; patiently walking beside us, watching and waiting. Lord Yama cares not for our plans, our schedules, our level of preparedness.

Events of late have prompted a thorough inner inventory-taking. I've observed my faults, frailties and failures; witnessed the lack of compassion and wisdom, the surplus of selfishness, self-absorption and lack of empathy, of charity, of genuine concern for the well-being of others. The result of this insight is a strengthening of my commitment to strive for, not simply rebirth in the Pure Land, but the manifestation of enlightenment, of mind-only Pure Land, here and now.

Toward that end, the number of morning and evening recitations (liturgy) will be increased to 1,008 (10 malas) per sitting, with additional chanting, sans mala, throughout the day when possible. I will continue my study of sutras and AMTB [Amitabha Buddhist Societies] center books regularly, hoping and praying that my resolve remains firmly fixed. With Amituofo's irresistible power, my Faith, Vows and Practice must flourish; growing from a small seed into a magnificent Bodhi tree, for my sake and the welfare of all sentient beings. By Amituofo's 48 vows we are liberated, through 9 lotus stages we reach the other shore.

 

The holidays—be they centered around Christmas, Hanukkah, or Kwanzaa—can be times of sadness, especially for those who have recently lost a loved one.

Last December, the first one after my mother died, I went to New York City for a few weeks at the thoughtful invitation of my cousin Deborah and her husband Bart. For the first time, I celebrated Hanukkah. My parents had always celebrated Christmas, not the religious aspects, but a time of family gatherings, children making presents for parents, building snowmen, and baking pies—from scratch. Mom baked great pies and cakes.

My first Hanukkah focused on the same things—family gatherings, outings to museums (snow would not fall for another month) and many evenings spent reading where the only sound was of pages turning and paper rustling. Deborah prepared wonderful meals for the three of us and for my other cousin, Milton, her children, and some close friends.

So my first “holidays” were spent in a new way for me. Or rather the format and the place was new. The love and closeness of family were the same, even though the faces were different.

This year, I will spend the holidays in Chicago and Toronto, lecturing at retreats and spending time with a different—and larger—family.

This is the way I have found to face the holidays after the death of my mother. There are other ways that may be more helpful for you. The December edition of The Center for Hospice and Palliative Care newsletter gives some good suggestions for the bereaved:

1. Remember that the anticipation of the holidays without your loved one may be more difficult than the actual holidays themselves.
2. Acknowledge that as a grieving person, you are not functioning at full capacity.
3. Realize that you can redefine your expectations and determine what is most meaningful and what you can comfortably handle.
4. Give yourself permission to let go of some traditions for this holiday season. Don’t be afraid to make changes.
5. Don’t be afraid to enjoy the good things.

Those we loved wanted us to be happy. It will take time, but gradually, the regrets and pain will ease, and we will be happy again.

A young tradesman came home and saw that his house had been robbed and burned by bandits. Right outside what was left of the house, there was a small, charred body. He thought the body belonged to his little boy. He did not know that his child was still alive. He did not know that after having burned the house, the bandits had taken the little boy away with them. In his state of confusion, the tradesman believed the body he saw was his son. So he cried, he beat his chest and pulled out his hair in grief. Then he began the cremation ceremony.

This man loved his little boy so much. His son was the raison d’etre of his life. He longed for his little boy so much that he could not abandon the little boy's ashes even for one moment. He made a velvet bag and put the ashes inside. He carried the bag with him day and night, and whether he was working or resting, he was never separated from the bag of ashes. One night his son escaped from the robbers. He came to the new house built by his father. He knocked excitedly on the door at two o'clock in the morning. His father called out as he wept, still holding the bag of ashes, "Who is there?"

"It's me, your son!" the boy answered through the door.

"You naughty person, you are not my boy. My child died three months ago. I have his ashes with me right here." The little boy continued to beat on the door and cried and cried. He begged over and over again to come in, but his father continued to refuse him entry. The man held firm to the notion that his little boy was already dead and that this other child was some heartless person who had come to torment him. Finally, the boy left and the father lost his son forever.

The Buddha said that if you get caught in one idea and consider it to be "the truth," then you miss the chance to know the truth. Even if the truth comes in person and knocks at your door, you will refuse to open your mind.

~ Thich Nhat Hanh, no death, no fear