¡Bienvenidos a nuestra nueva sección de Dharma en Español! Aquí en Tricycle reconocemos la importancia de seguir ofreciendo el dharma a los practicantes de una amplia gama de comunidades, y dado el creciente interés en el dharma en español, hemos puesto en marcha una nueva iniciativa para ofrecer enseñanzas originales y traducidas. Profesores de habla hispana de Latinoamérica y Europa han contribuido generosamente con charlas de dharma y prácticas que publicaremos en nuestra página web y en la revista, así como con artículos seleccionados de nuestra Sección de Enseñanzas. Esperamos que estos artículos cuidadosamente seleccionados les inspiren, desafíen y apoyen, y que también animen a todos aquellos que buscan la liberación a recorrer el camino de la práctica.  

No dudes en hacernos llegar tus comentarios o sugerencias. Nos encantaría saber de ustedes.

Welcome to our new Dharma in Spanish section! Here at Tricycle we recognize the importance of continuing to make the dharma available to practitioners across a wide range of communities, and given the increased interest in Spanish dharma, we’ve started a new initiative to offer ongoing original and translated teachings. Spanish speaking teachers from both Latin America and Europe have generously contributed dharma talks and practice pieces that we’ll be publishing in our website and print magazine, as well as selected pieces from our Teachings section. It’s our hope that these carefully curated offerings will inspire, challenge, and support you and encourage all those seeking liberation to walk the path of practice.  

Please don’t hesitate to reach out with your comments or suggestions. We’d love to hear from you.

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El apego es un factor mental que hace que exageremos las buenas cualidades de un objeto, persona, idea, etc., o que proyectemos buenas cualidades que no existen. Esto nos lleva a desearlo y aferrarnos a él, considerándolo permanente, placentero y existente por sí mismo. Esta práctica nos ayuda a reflexionar sobre el apego y a trabajar con él.

Para empezar, pregúntate ¿A qué cosas, personas o emociones estoy apegado? ¿Cómo los veo cuando estoy apegado? Si esa persona o cosa existe tal y como se presenta a mi mente apegada, ¿por qué no todo el mundo la ve así? ¿Por qué a veces me siento diferente al respecto? ¿Cuál es una actitud más realista hacia el objeto de mi apego?

Ten en cuenta estas preguntas mientras continuamos nuestra exploración. Para eliminar el dolor del apego, es útil considerar primero sus desventajas. Por ejemplo, genera insatisfacción y frustración porque continuamente queremos más y mejores cosas, lo que nos impide disfrutar de lo que ya tenemos. Nos hace subir y bajar emocionalmente según tengamos o no el objeto de nuestro apego. Puede motivarnos a confabular, manipular y conspirar para conseguir lo que queremos. Bajo el hechizo del apego, podríamos actuar hipócritamente o con otras intenciones, lo que acaba dañando nuestras relaciones con los demás.

El apego puede llevarnos a actuar de forma poco ética para conseguir lo que queremos, a perjudicar a los demás y a aumentar nuestro propio sentimiento de odio y de culpa hacia nosotros mismos. En última instancia, hace que nos pasemos la vida persiguiendo placeres, ninguno de los cuales podremos llevarnos cuando muramos. Mientras tanto, nuestro potencial para desarrollar cualidades internas como el amor, la compasión, la generosidad, la paciencia y la sabiduría queda desaprovechado. De este modo, el apego bloquea eficazmente nuestra claridad e incluso nuestro potencial para despertar.

Otro subproducto del apego es la ira. Cuando estamos fuertemente apegados a algo, nos decepcionamos y nos enfadamos si no lo conseguimos o si nos lo quitan una vez que lo tenemos. Piensa en un ejemplo de tu vida en el que haya ocurrido esto. Luego examína: ¿Por qué me enfado? ¿Qué relación hay entre mis expectativas y mi enfado? ¿Qué esperaba de la persona, cosa o situación que no tenía o no hacía? ¿Eran realistas mis expectativas? ¿El problema estaba en esa persona o cosa, o en que yo pensaba que la persona u objeto tenía cualidades que no tenía? ¿Cuál es una visión más realista de esa persona, cosa o situación? ¿Cómo afecta esta nueva visión a cómo me siento y me relaciono con ellos?

El apego nos hace temer no conseguir lo que queremos o necesitamos, y perder lo que tenemos. Piensa en ejemplos de tu vida en los que esto haya ocurrido.

Entonces pregúntate: ¿Realmente necesito esas cosas? ¿Cuál es el peor escenario si no las consigo o las pierdo? Incluso si las tuviera, ¿me quedaría completamente sin herramientas para manejar la situación, o hay cosas que puedo hacer para afrontarla con eficacia? ¿Qué pasaría si renunciara a sentir apego por esa persona o cosa? ¿Cómo sería mi vida?

Cuando se trata de relaciones, el apego puede llevarnos a la codependencia, provocando que permanezcamos en situaciones perjudiciales por miedo al cambio. Reflexiona: ¿A qué estoy apegado que me hace permanecer en esa situación? ¿Merece la pena aferrarse a eso? ¿Es en realidad tan maravilloso como mi apego cree que es? ¿Qué pasaría si dejara de estar apegado a ello? ¿De qué herramientas internas y externas dispongo para afrontar la situación?

Que no es realista esperar que los objetos externos sean una fuente duradera de felicidad.

Contempla las desventajas de estar apegado a esas personas, cosas, experiencias de tu vida a las que te aferras con fuerza. Piensa en la naturaleza transitoria del objeto de tu apego y comprueba si puedes aceptar que el cambio es la naturaleza misma de la existencia. Recuerda que no es realista esperar que los objetos externos sean una fuente duradera de felicidad. Reflexiona sobre el hecho de que, al soltar nuestro apego, podremos disfrutar de nuestra salud, de nuestras relaciones, de la riqueza que podamos tener cuando el objeto o persona esté ahí, y estar tranquilos cuando no esté.

A continuación, consideraremos algunos antídotos contra el apego. La principal actitud que hay que cultivar es la del equilibrio: eliminando nuestras exageraciones y proyecciones, podemos ser más equilibrados en nuestras relaciones con las cosas que queremos o necesitamos. Libres de aferramiento y compulsividad, podemos implicarnos y preocuparnos de forma saludable. Los puntos que figuran a continuación están pensados para una reflexión repetida. La comprensión intelectual por sí sola no produce la fuerza necesaria para detener los patrones destructivos.

Reflexionar sobre nuestra mortalidad nos ayuda a ver con claridad lo que es importante en nuestra vida. Tómate un momento para imaginar que estás muriendo. Visualiza realmente dónde estás, cómo estás muriendo, las reacciones de tus amigos y familiares. ¿Cómo te sientes? ¿Qué pasa por tu cabeza? Luego pregúntate: Dado que algún día moriré, ¿qué es importante en mi vida? ¿Qué me hace sentir bien haber hecho? ¿De qué me arrepiento? ¿Qué quiero hacer y evitar hacer mientras viva? ¿Qué puedo hacer para prepararme para la muerte?

Contempla la naturaleza cambiante del cuerpo, desde el feto hasta el bebé, el niño, el adulto y el anciano. Algunas preguntas que puedes utilizar son ¿Está mi cuerpo compuesto de sustancias puras? ¿Es intrínsecamente bello? Después de la muerte, ¿en qué se convertirá mi cuerpo? ¿Merece la pena apegarse a él? ¿Existe alguna esencia inherente que sea mi cuerpo? ¿Soy yo mi cuerpo? 

No hay duda de que debemos cuidar nuestro cuerpo, mantenerlo limpio y sano, porque es la base de nuestra preciosa vida humana. Protegiéndolos con sabiduría pero sin apego, podremos practicar el dharma y beneficiar a los seres vivientes.

A menudo nos aferramos a nuestras ideas sobre cómo deben hacerse las cosas, a nuestras opiniones sobre quiénes son los demás y qué deben hacer, a nuestras creencias sobre la naturaleza de la vida. Luego nos enfadamos cuando los demás no están de acuerdo con nuestras ideas. Pregúntate a sí mismo: Cuando alguien critica mis ideas, ¿me está criticando a mí? ¿Es correcto algo sólo porque yo lo creo? ¿Qué pasaría si yo viera las cosas como las ve la otra persona? ¿Cómo puedo liberarme del miedo a perder poder o a que se aprovechen de mí?

Si vemos defectos en las ideas del otro, podemos expresarlos de forma amable, sin ponernos a la defensiva de nuestras propias opiniones. Imagínate hablando con firmeza y claridad para exponer tus opiniones, pero sin ponerte a la defensiva. Recuerda que debes seguir abriéndote a una visión más amplia.

Imagina que recibes toda la aprobación y elogios que siempre has deseado. Imagina que la gente te dice o reconoce todas las cosas que siempre has deseado que te digan. Disfruta de las buenas sensaciones que esto te puede producir. Luego pregúntate: ¿me hará realmente feliz de forma duradera? ¿En qué me benefician los elogios, la aprobación o la buena reputación? ¿Previenen enfermedades o alargan mi vida? ¿Resuelven realmente el problema del odio a uno mismo y la culpa? ¿Purifican mi karma negativo o me acercan a la liberación o la iluminación? Si no es así, ¿merece la pena estar apegado a ellos?

Para desarrollar nuestro sentido de estar interconectados con todos los demás y ser receptores de mucha bondad por su parte, contempla la ayuda, el apoyo y el ánimo que has recibido de amigos o seres queridos. Reconócelos como actos de bondad humana. Reflexiona sobre los beneficios que has recibido de tus padres, parientes y profesores: los cuidados que te dieron cuando eras joven, la protección, la educación. Todos los talentos, habilidades y destrezas que tenemos ahora se los debemos a las personas que nos enseñaron y formaron.

Piensa en toda la ayuda que has recibido de extraños: la casa que habitas, la ropa que vistes, los alimentos que comes, todo lo hicieron personas que no conoces. Sin sus esfuerzos, no podrías sobrevivir. Luego reflexiona sobre los beneficios que has recibido de personas con las que no te llevas bien y de personas que te han hecho daño. A través de sus acciones, nos dan la oportunidad de desarrollar la paciencia, la tolerancia y la compasión, cualidades esenciales para progresar en el camino.

El amor es el deseo de que los demás tengan felicidad y las causas de la felicidad. Empieza por desearte a ti mismo que estés bien y seas feliz, no de forma egoísta, sino porque te respetas y cuidas de ti mismo como uno de tantos seres vivientes. Extiende gradualmente este amor a amigos, extraños, personas difíciles y a todos los seres. Para cada grupo de personas, piensa en individuos concretos y genera amor hacia ellos. Luego, deja que ese sentimiento se extienda a todo el grupo.

Piensa, siente, imagina: “Que mis amigos y todos los que han sido amables conmigo tengan felicidad y sus causas. Que estén libres de sufrimiento, confusión y miedo. Que tengan corazones tranquilos, pacíficos y plenos.”

Genera los mismos sentimientos hacia gente desconocida. Extiende el sentimiento a quienes te han hecho daño o son difíciles. Reconoce que hacen lo que te parece censurable porque están experimentando dolor o confusión. Qué maravilloso sería que fueran libres.

Como conclusión, reconoce que el apego es tu enemigo. Solemos pensar que el apego es nuestro amigo, pero cuando observamos detenidamente nuestra experiencia, empezamos a ver cómo el aferrarnos a las cosas destruye en realidad nuestra paz mental y destruye nuestra felicidad. Y cuando vemos esto, entonces eso nos da algo de energía para querer contrarrestar nuestro apego y no sólo seguirlo ciegamente.

Este artículo se basa en una meditación guiada que la Venerable Thubten Chodron suele dirigir en sus retiros.

♦

This article previously appeared in Tricycle’s Fall 2023 issue as Taking the Ache Out of Attachment.

The post Práctica: Quitar el dolor del apego appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

Attachment is a mental factor that causes us to exaggerate the good qualities of an object, person, idea, etc., or project good qualities that aren’t there. It then leads to our wishing for and clinging to the object, seeing it as permanent, pleasurable, and existing in and of itself. This practice helps us to reflect on and work with attachment.

To begin, ask yourself: What specific things, people, emotions am I attached to? How do I view them when I’m attached? If that person or thing exists the way it appears to my attached mind, why doesn’t everyone see it that way? Why do I sometimes feel differently about it? What is a more realistic attitude toward the object of my attachment?

Keep these questions in mind as we continue our exploration. In order to take the ache out of attachment, it’s helpful to first consider its disadvantages. For example, it breeds dissatisfaction and frustration because we continually want more and better things, which prevents us from enjoying what we already have. It causes us to go up and down emotionally according to whether we have the object of our attachment or not. It might motivate us to connive, manipulate, and plot to get what we want. Under the spell of attachment, we could act hypocritically or with ulterior motives, which ends up damaging our relationships with others. Attachment might drive us to act unethically to get what we want, to harm others and increase our own sense of self-hatred and guilt. Ultimately, it causes us to spend our lives chasing after pleasures, none of which we can take with us when we die. Meanwhile, our potential to develop inner qualities such as love, compassion, generosity, patience, and wisdom goes untapped. In this way, attachment effectively blocks our clarity and even our potential for awakening.

Another by-product of attachment is anger. When we are strongly attached to something, we become disappointed and angry if we don’t get it or are separated from it once we have it. Think of an example in your life when that has been the case.

Then examine: Why do I get angry? What is the relationship between my expectations and my anger? What did I expect from the person, thing, or situation that it didn’t have or do? Were my expectations realistic? Was the problem in that person or thing, or in my thinking the person or object had qualities that he, she, or it didn’t? What is a more realistic view of that person, thing, or situation? How does this new view affect how I feel and relate to them?

Attachment causes us to fear not getting what we want or need, and losing what we have. Think of examples in your life in which this has been the case.

Then ask yourself: Do I really need those things? What is the worst-case scenario if I don’t get or lose them? Even if I did, would I be completely without tools to handle the situation, or are there things I can do to meet it effectively? What would happen if I gave up being attached to that person or thing? What would my life be like?

When it comes to relationships, attachment can lead to codependence, causing us to remain in harmful situations out of fear of change.

Consider: What am I attached to that makes me remain in that situation? Is that something worth holding on to? Is it in fact as wonderful as my attachment thinks it is? What would happen if I gave up being attached to it? What internal and external tools do I have to help me deal with the situation?

It is not realistic to expect external objects to be a lasting source of happiness.

Contemplate the disadvantages of being attached to those people, things, experiences in your life that you strongly cling to. Think of the transient nature of the object of your attachment and see if you can accept that change is the very nature of existence. Remind yourself that it is not realistic to expect external objects to be a lasting source of happiness. Reflect on the fact that by letting go, we can enjoy our health, our relationships, any wealth we might have when it’s there, and be relaxed when it isn’t.

Next, we’ll consider some antidotes to attachment. The main attitude to cultivate is one of balance: by eliminating our exaggerations and projections, we can be more balanced in our relationships to those things we want or need. Free of grasping and compulsiveness, we can be involved and caring in healthy ways. The points below are meant for repeated reflection. An intellectual understanding alone does not yield the force necessary to stop destructive patterns.

Reflecting on our mortality helps us to see clearly what is important in our life. Take a moment to imagine yourself dying. Really visualize where you are, how you are dying, the reactions of friends and family. How do you feel? What is happening in your mind? Then ask yourself: Given that I will die one day, what is important in my life? What do I feel good about having done? What do I regret? What do I want to do and to avoid doing while I’m alive? What can I do to prepare for death?

Contemplate the changing nature of the body, from fetus to infant, child, adult, to old person. Some guiding questions you can use are: Is my body composed of pure substances? Is it inherently beautiful? After death, what will my body become? Is it worthy of being attached to? Is there some
inherent essence that is my body? Am I my body?

There’s no question that we must take care of our bodies, keeping them clean and healthy, because they are the basis of our precious human life. By protecting them with wisdom but without attachment, we will be able to practice the dharma and benefit sentient beings.

We often cling to our ideas about how things should be done, to our opinions of who others are and what they should do, to our beliefs about the nature of life. We then become upset when others disagree with our ideas. Ask yourself: When someone criticizes my ideas, are they criticizing me? Is something right just because I think it is? What would happen if I saw things the way the other person sees them? How can I let go of the fear of losing power or getting taken advantage of?

If we see shortcomings in another’s ideas, we can express these in a kind way, without being defensive of our own views. Imagine yourself speaking firmly and clearly to state your opinions, but also remaining nondefensive. Remember to keep opening into a wider view.

Imagine receiving all the approval and praise you have ever craved. Imagine people saying or acknowledging all the things you have ever hoped they would. Enjoy the good feeling that this might bring. Then ask yourself, will this really make me lastingly happy? How do praise, approval, or a good reputation benefit me? Do they prevent illness or extend my life ? Do they really solve the problem of self-hatred and guilt? Do they purify my negative karma or make me closer to liberation or enlightenment? If not, is it worth being attached to them?

To develop our sense of being interconnected with all others and being the recipient of much kindness from them, contemplate the help, support, and encouragement you have received from friends or loved ones. Recognize these as acts of human kindness. Reflect on the benefit you have received from parents, relatives, and teachers—the care they gave you when you were young, protection, education. All talents, abilities, and skills we have now are due to the people who taught and trained us.

Consider all the help you have received from strangers: the home you inhabit, the clothes you wear, the food you eat, were all made by people you do not know. Without their efforts, you wouldn’t be able to survive. Then reflect on the benefit you have received from people you do not get along with and people who have harmed you. Through their actions, they give us the chance to develop patience, tolerance, and compassion—qualities that are essential for progressing along the path.

Love is the wish for others to have happiness and its causes. Begin by wishing yourself to be well and happy, not in a selfish way, but because you respect and care for yourself as one of many sentient beings. Gradually spread this love to friends, strangers, difficult people, and all beings. For each group of people, think of specific individuals and generate love for them. Then let that feeling spread to the entire group.

Think, feel, imagine, “May my friends and all those who have been kind to me have happiness and its causes. May they be free of suffering, confusion, and fear. May they have calm, peaceful, and fulfilled hearts.”

Generate the same feelings toward strangers. Spread the feeling to those who have harmed you or are difficult. Recognize that they do what you find objectionable because they are experiencing pain or confusion. How wonderful it would be if they were free.

As a conclusion, recognize attachment as your enemy. We usually think of attachment as our friend, but when we look carefully at our experience, we begin to see how clinging to things actually destroys our peace of mind and destroys our happiness. And when we see this, then that gives us some energy to want to counteract our attachment and not just to follow it blindly.

This article is based on a guided meditation that Venerable Thubten Chodron often leads on retreats.

The post Taking the Ache Out of Attachment appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

The Buddha describes subtle impermanence as “arising and passing away” or as “origination and disintegration.” Understanding arising or origination dispels the misconception of nihilism, which believes that either things do not exist at all or the person completely discontinues after death, so that there is no continuity of karma and its effects. Understanding passing away or disintegration dispels the misconception of absolutism, according to which people and things have a substantial, permanent, eternal reality.

Occasionally, the sutras speak about knowing feelings, discriminations, and thoughts “as they arise, as they are present, as they disappear” (MN 123.23), outlining three characteristics of the conditioned: arising, changing while abiding, and passing away. The Abhidharma formalizes this into the theory that at the micro level any conditioned phenomenon has three phases: the phases of arising, presence, and dissolution. These three points are without temporal duration. Change occurs not from the actual change of a persisting thing, but from the successive arisings of discrete phenomena in an unbroken sequence with imperceptible rapidity.

In meditation, it is more helpful to focus on the sutra presentation of arising and passing away, and within those two, especially on dissolution or passing away, as that highlights impermanence in a very forceful way.

By beginning with the analysis of form’s impermanence, the Buddha appeals to the direct experience of our body. We know our body is constantly changing; we know it is aging and will eventually cease to exist. This is a comparatively gross form of impermanence, whereas the understanding of subtle impermanence frees us from the illusion of the body being permanent.

A stable, solid body is a mental image superimposed onto a stream of events in the same way that a spinning propeller is seen as a circle. The constant succession of discrete acts of cognition or feeling appears as a monolithic event, just as the rapid change of frames in a film appears as a smooth continuum.

Subtle impermanence is more difficult to understand. Scientists tell us of the constant changes in subatomic particles, but since these are not visible to our ordinary perceptions and the physical objects around us seem to be stable, we assume that our five aggregates and the world around us are immutable and fixed. In fact, our body, feelings, and so on are dynamic processes in which every aspect of them is arising and passing away in each moment. Nothing is static, even though it may appear to be firm and unchanging because our perception is not sharp enough to detect the subtle changes occurring in each moment. The obscured mind puts together these unique moments of ever-changing existence and sees them as solid objects so that the ignorant mind can deal with the world. A stable, solid body is a mental image superimposed onto a stream of events in the same way that a spinning propeller is seen as a circle. The constant succession of discrete acts of cognition or feeling appears as a monolithic event, just as the rapid change of frames in a film appears as a smooth continuum.

By practicing mindfulness and paying careful attention to the body and mental processes, we will gradually see that what appear as unified objects or events are momentary phenomena that are arising and passing away in a fraction of a nanosecond. This constant change occurs due to causes and conditions, which themselves are in constant flux. Similarly the elements that compose the body are actually dynamic processes that arise and cease in each moment. As mindfulness deepens, subtle impermanence is seen clearly, not in an intellectual or conceptual manner, but as direct experience.

To approach subtle impermanence, begin by examining your body. Is it the same from one year to the next? Is it the same from one month, week, day, hour, minute, and second to the next? Is it the same from one split-second to the next? Questioning in this way makes it clear that our body changes from split-second to split-second. Similarly, each part of our body and each atom of our body changes from one split-second to the next. Feelings, discriminations, miscellaneous factors, and consciousnesses also do not remain the same from one nanosecond to the next. Everything comes into existence, persists for the tiniest fraction of a moment, and then ceases; in fact, even in that split-second while it persists, it is changing. This is followed by something new that arises, persists for a changing fraction of a moment, and disintegrates. There is no way to stop this process: change is in the very nature of conditioned things.

The experience of a pleasant feeling is dependent on an object, the sense faculty, consciousness, and contact, but once the feeling arises, could it be permanent during the time it endures? Bhikkhu Nandaka, when instructing a group of five hundred bhikshunis, asked (MN 146.9):

Monastics, suppose an oil lamp is burning: its oil is impermanent and subject to change, its wick is impermanent and subject to change, its flame is impermanent and subject to change, and its radiance is impermanent and subject to change. Now would anyone be speaking rightly who spoke thus: “While this oil lamp is burning, its oil, wick, and flame are impermanent and subject to change, but its radiance is permanent, everlasting, eternal, not subject to change?”

To this the bhikshunis responded that such permanence is not possible. Anything that arises dependent on causes and conditions—even if it endures for a period of time—cannot itself be permanent and unchanging. It too perishes, and something new arises in each split-second of its continuity.

Our ordinary consciousness sees feelings as solid and substantial, but by directing our attention inward to our moment-to-moment experience, it is possible to realize the arising and ceasing of contact—the cause of feeling—in each split-second. As contact is seen—and it too is momentary and transient—so is the ceasing of each moment of feeling that has arisen based on that contact. By not understanding pleasant feelings as impermanent, sensual desire is ignited; by not understanding unpleasant feelings as impermanent, anger flares; and by not understanding neutral feelings as impermanent, confusion is activated. For this reason, the Buddha emphasizes understanding feelings with correct wisdom, because doing so prevents the arising of these afflictions and will eventually lead to their total eradication.

By increasing our mindfulness of each of the five aggregates, insight knowledge will arise that directly knows subtle impermanence. When this happens, it almost seems as if nothing is there, because whatever arises is gone in the next moment. The present cannot be stopped.

♦

From Searching for the Self by His Holiness the Dalai Lama and Thubten Chodron, ©2022. Reprinted by permission of Wisdom Publications, wisdomexperience.org.

The post An Unbroken Sequence appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

We all know what the Buddha said about anger. But what did he say about jealousy and envy? These two complex emotions are simultaneously ubiquitous and invisible: they frequently visit us, but we are loath to admit to feeling them. Who better than the Venerable Thubten Chodron, a longtime Tibetan Buddhist nun, to help ease us out of shame and into recognition with her characteristic warmth and humor? Offering more than mere sympathy, she shows us how jealousy and envy quietly feed off our attachments and how we can ultimately overcome them.

The post Recognizing and Transforming Jealousy and Envy appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

Hearing about bodhisattvas’ ability to cherish others more than themselves, we may doubt, “If I abandon all self-interest and only cherish others, I will neglect myself and my suffering will increase.” Cherishing others does not mean ignoring our own needs and caring only for others. If we did that, we would fall into a deplorable state in which benefiting others and practicing the dharma would be nearly impossible. In that case, instead of our helping others, they would need to take care of us!

While one form of self-interest is selfish, stingy, and irritable, another is wise self-interest that understands that benefiting ourselves and helping others need not be contradictory. . . . While one sense of self—self-grasping ignorance—is a troublemaker, stable and realistic self-confidence is necessary to accomplish the path. Bodhisattvas must have exceptionally strong self-confidence to be able to complete all the perfections. Free from arrogance, such self-confidence aspires for what is positive without clinging to it.

Self-confidence is essential to begin, continue, and complete the path to awakening, and our buddhanature is a valid basis on which to generate it. Reflecting on emptiness helps us to recognize our buddhanature, for we see that the defilements are adventitious and can be removed. Compassion for others also builds self-confidence, as does remembering our precious human life, its meaning, purpose, and rarity.

♦

From Buddhism: One Teacher, Many Traditions, by the Dalai Lama and Thubten Chodron. Reprinted with permission of Wisdom Publications. www.wisdompubs.org

The post The Self-Confidence of a Bodhisattva appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

Have you ever gossiped about someone, then regretted it for years, unable to apologize because you lost touch with the person? That’s me. So Rosie Knox, wherever you are, I apologize for all the horrible things I said about you in sixth grade. And while I’m at it, I apologize to all the hundreds if not thousands of people I’ve hurt with selfish speech. And I apologize to myself for filling my mind with nasty thoughts and creating the karmic causes to be the object of others’ gossip in the future. Where did I ever get the idea that gossip would make me happy?

Gossip has many allures; otherwise we wouldn’t enjoy doing it. It has entertainment value, and anyone can participate. But what exactly is it that makes us tingle with excitement when using wrong speech? Do we think we’ll shine brighter by exposing another’s faults? Or that we’ll bond with others through maligning a common outsider? Or will we be empowered, especially if we feel oppressed by someone in authority? These so-called advantages of unskillful speech need to be investigated further.

Gossip can mean many things, from benignly shared information about someone not present to false rumors insidiously spread, to idle chitchat about someone’s personal life. The question to ask is: What is our motivation when we talk about others? From a Buddhist perspective, the value of our speech depends principally upon the motivation behind it.

When talking about others is motivated by thoughts of ill will, jealousy, or attachment, conversations turn into gossip. These thoughts may seem to be subconscious, but if we pay close attention to our mind we’ll be able to catch them in the act. Many of these are thoughts that we don’t want to acknowledge to ourselves, let alone to others, but my experience is that when I become courageous enough to notice and admit them, I’m on my way to letting them go. Also, there’s a certain humor to the illogical way that these negative thoughts purport to bring us happiness. Learning to laugh at our wrong ways of thinking can be therapeutic.

Let’s investigate to see if we’ve had any of these thoughts. By unearthing them, we can check if they’re accurate or not. Do any of these examples sound familiar?

• “I’m so angry! I can’t believe that Gloria promised to help me on this project and then called today with some limp excuse for why she couldn’t come. Wait until I tell my friends about Gloria’s latest act of rudeness!” Armed with this assumption, we can talk for hours about all the awful things Gloria has done. We’re acting on the belief that venting our negative emotions and stirring others up will resolve our frustration with Gloria. Is that true? Often we have a problem with one person, but instead of working it out with her, we unload our negative feelings on our friends. If they side with us—and they should because, after all, that’s why they’re our friends—then we can sit back and feel like a victim, blaming Gloria for the bad feelings between us. Strange how ego finds making ourselves into a victim so comforting. If we can’t communicate directly with that person—maybe she’s a superior—why spend energy maligning her? Rather, why not turn our attention to doing something to improve our situation?
• “Larry is such a jerk, and everyone agrees. I’d never act like he does.” Motivated by the thought “If he’s so bad, I’m so good,” we’ll go on and on about how unfair the world is that such a jerk gets the good opportunities, while we, who embody unrecognized talent, are ignored. How does complaining make us feel better? How odd it is to attempt to prop up our esteem by badmouthing others.
• “I’m going to tell the managers that Stella only offered to take on the job because she’ll have her assistant do all the work while she gets the raise. Maybe if they know this, they’ll consider me for the job instead. ” Jealousy is often the motivating factor when we use our speech to create factions at the workplace. There’s never a dull moment when our envious mind is out to get someone, dethroning her and installing ourselves in her place. Are we successful in getting the positive recognition we seek when we create dirty politics and stir up discord in our workplace?
• “I’ll just tell everyone that Pat made the mess of our little do-it-yourself remodeling project. Then I won’t have to accept responsibility for how I botched up.” Bringing people together by sharing a condescending attitude is a strange way to bond with others. Do we feel good about ourselves when we do this
• “Ted really hurt my feelings after how much I trusted him. I’m going to get even by telling his secrets to others. Then he’ll have a taste of his own medicine!” How can intentionally harming another living being make us feel better? Instead, it usually results in our losing our self-respect.

On first hearing, the above examples may seem a bit crude. “Who, me? I wouldn’t speak like that!” ego innocently purrs. Or if we do recognize those negative habits of speech, our mind says, “That’s because everyone else talks like that.” But if we look inside ourselves with the searchlight of a sincere wish to become a better person for our own and others’ benefit, we will locate our own less-than-likeable motivations. When have we had those motivations? When have we gossiped about others? Initially, this kind of internal research may be extremely uncomfortable. After all, who likes to admit their faults? It’s much more interesting to address others’ defects. But that is precisely the point: what is it we’re avoiding by looking outward instead of inward? What are we achieving by holding up a magnifying glass instead of looking in a mirror? By ignoring, rationalizing, denying, and justifying our nasty motivations and unkind behavior we feel worse in the long run, not better. A tremendous sense of relief comes when we can be honest about what we’re thinking, feeling, saying, and doing. We take responsibility for our actions without feeling guilty about them because we don’t attach a big-ego “I” to them as in “I’m such a bad gossip.” By admitting our mistakes without exaggerating them, we’ll begin to clean them up. We’ll feel better about ourselves; and because our behavior toward others will change, their responses to us will transform as well.

How do we begin to notice these motivations? This is where daily meditation practice is essential. Some quiet time alone each day to review our thoughts, feelings, words, and deeds is essential for a healthy lifestyle. For example, when we wake up, we generate our motivation for the day: “Today, as much as possible, I won’t harm anyone verbally or physically or even with my thoughts. As much as possible, I will help others in whatever big or small way presents itself. And I’ll keep the long-term motivation of becoming enlightened for the benefit of all beings in my heart.” Starting the day with a conscious intention like this transforms all our interactions during the day. In the evening, we again sit quietly and evaluate our day: “How did living according to my motivation go?” When we see shortcomings, we apply one of the Buddha’s teachings to transform our motivations and actions. We rejoice at the thoughts, words, and deeds that kept true to our morning motivation.

Doing a silent retreat each year makes it easier to notice all the impulses we have to speak. Then we can investigate—“Why did I want to say that?”—and increase our awareness of habitual mental and verbal patterns. Also, a time of sustained intensive meditation helps us practice re-forming our motivations, emotions, and thoughts.

What are we achieving by holding up a magnifying glass instead of looking in a mirror?

Clearly seeing the disadvantages of any harmful action halts the mind that wants to engage in it. For example, consider how gossiping hurts others’ feelings and causes dissension among people. When others discover that we’ve been gossiping about them—and they usually do—they may defend themselves or retaliate, causing us further problems. Even if they don’t react, they cease trusting us. And we all know that trust takes time to reestablish.

The disagreeable effect on others notwithstanding, how do we feel about ourselves when we gossip? Depending on the situation, we may initially feel that a weight has been lifted from us, that we have been vindicated, or at least that we’ve covered our rear end. But those feelings are false and ephemeral, for if we are sensitive to what is going on inside of us, we realize that we don’t feel good about ourselves. If we speak in this way repeatedly, we usually wind up with a bad case of low self-esteem. I’m a firm believer that our self-esteem is related to our ethical behavior. In other words, the first casualty of our speaking or acting with a harmful motivation is ourselves.

Thinking about the karmic effects of gossip throws cold water on quickly-moving lips. A complete negative karma—one with an intention, action, and completion of the action—brings four karmic results: an unfortunate rebirth, a similar experience happening to us, the tendency to do the action again, and residing in an unpleasant place. I, for one, have enough problems as is. Why should I create more for myself by mistakenly thinking that gossiping will bring me happiness? Furthermore, this negative karma will obscure my mind, making liberation and enlightenment more distant. Why would I do that to myself if I wish myself well? Being aware of the disadvantages that gossip brings both now and in the future helps us to drop the negative emotion fueling it as if it were a burning coal. When we’re really serious about avoiding gossip, we try to prevent the circumstances for gossip by choosing our companions carefully and being heedful of the topics we discuss with them. I do prison work, and one of the inmates commented to me that he’s noticed how idle talk usually leads to harsh speech, lying, disharmony, and malicious gossip. He may start out talking about sports, current events, or what was for lunch, but if he’s not alert, the topic eventually turns to someone else’s faults. His solution is to keep the chats short. That way he is friendly with others without staying around long enough for his own or another’s negativity about a third person to bubble up.

Sometimes we find ourselves chatting with a group when someone starts gossiping about someone who’s not there. We notice the urge to jump in and express our resentment too, but, mindful of the negative repercussions, we restrain our speech. Still, we know that we have to do something about our resentment, so later we meditate on patience and forgiveness. When we work with our hostile emotions in a suitable way and transform them, the impulse to release them through gossiping won’t arise. In the meantime, instead of following our urge to gossip, we can turn our internal focus to our breath or we can recite a mantra such as Om mani padme hum, the mantra of Avalokiteshvara, the Bodhisattva of Compassion.

What can we do when we don’t wish to gossip, but the people we’re speaking with are really into it? The easiest solution, of course, is simply to leave the conversation, either quietly slipping away or excusing ourselves in order to do something else. But sometimes the situation doesn’t allow that. So we could say, “It seems people have issues with Ralph. How about talking with him directly about the problem? But first let’s spell it out in a less blaming way so that he’ll be able to hear you.” Another skillful option is to change the topic; this can usually be done rather easily and unobtrusively. In that way, the group can bond, but not at another’s expense. Later on, when we’re alone with the gossip instigator, we could say, “It sounded like you’re pretty upset. What’s eating you?” and in this way invite him to discuss his feelings, rather than someone else’s behavior. This can help him find another way to look at the situation so that his anger doesn’t destabilize the harmony of the group.

Sometimes we find ourselves on the other side of this situation: we’re really upset with someone and need to discuss it. So we approach a close friend and explain, “Something just happened between me and Sally. I’m angry and need some help dealing with it. Can you listen and help me?” In other words, we make it clear to ourselves and to our friend that we want to talk about ourselves, not bad-mouth Sally. By taking on our own anger, we avoid gossip. We also don’t put our friend in the uncomfortable position of having to side with us in order to maintain the friendship. Our friend can listen and reflect back to us what we’re feeling, which helps us to calm our mind. Or, if we’re open, she may even be able to help us look at our own part in the incident. In this way, our friend becomes a true friend, someone who helps us live ethically.

I’ve found that the best antidote to gossip is deliberately and consistently meditating on the kindness of others and cultivating lovingkindness toward them. Sit down sometime and reflect on everything others have done for you since you were born. Start with your parents or another kind adult who fed you as an infant. Think about all the people who contributed to your education, all those who encouraged you to exercise your talents, and all those who supported you through ups and downs. It’s truly amazing how much others have done for us. When our minds become convinced that we’ve been the recipients of a tremendous amount of kindness in our lives, the wish to speak ill of others vanishes. Instead, we become happy to talk about others’ good qualities, virtuous activities, accomplishments, and good fortune. Then not only is our own mind happy, but everyone who speaks with us becomes happy as well. The goodness in our hearts overcomes any wish to gossip.

Imagine having conversations in which we talked about people’s good qualities and accomplishments behind their back. Think about it: wouldn’t it be fulfilling in a completely positive way? Speaking about how others helped us, praising their talents, rejoicing in their dharma practice, admiring and aspiring to cultivate their good qualities—speaking about all of these uplifts our mind, creates the positive karma of right speech, and helps spread happiness in the world.

If speech has five marks, O monastics, it is well spoken, not badly spoken, blameless, and above reproach by the wise. What are these five marks? It is speech that is timely, true, gentle, purposeful, and spoken with a mind of lovingkindness. —the Buddha (Anguttara Nikaya)

***

Seven Tips for Giving Up Gossip

1. Recognize that gossip doesn’t undo the situation you’re talking about. It only puts in motion another situation based on negative feelings.

2. Know that comparing yourself to others is useless. Everyone has his or her own talents. In this way, give up jealousy and the wish to put others down.

3. Be aware of and transform your own thoughts, words, and deeds rather than commenting on those of others.

4. Train your mind to see others’ positive qualities and discuss them. This will make you much happier than gossiping ever could.

5. Forgive, knowing that people do harmful things because they are unhappy. If you don’t make someone into an enemy, you won’t want to gossip about him.

6. Have a sense of humor about what you think, say, and do, and be able to laugh at all of the silly things we sentient beings carry out in our attempt to be happy. If you see the humor in our human predicament, you’ll be more patient.

7. Practice saying something kind to someone every day. Do this especially with people you don’t like. It gets easier with practice and bears surprisingly good results.

The post The Truth About Gossip appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

Consumer culture has spawned a class of spiritual shoppers who bring their acquisitive instincts to the practice of the dharma.

When we turn to spirituality, we may think that we’re leaving the corruption of the world behind. But our old ways of thinking do not disappear; they follow us, coloring the way we approach spiritual practice. Since we have all been raised to be good consumers—getting the most while paying the least—as dharma students and teachers we carry our consumer mentality right into our spiritual practice.

How does consumerism manifest on the part of the student? First, we shop for the best product—the best group, the most realized teacher, the highest practice. We go from this place to that, seeking the best spiritual product to “buy.” We want the highest teachings, so we neglect foundational practices. Viewing ourselves as fully qualified disciples, we don’t see much need for basic practices such as ethical discipline and restraint of our senses; instead, we jump into the most advanced tract.

As consumers, we want to be entertained. We’ll attend a center as long as the teacher is entertaining, but when we hear the same teachings over and over again, we get bored and look for the exotic. Coming from the Tibetan tradition, I can say that Tibetan Buddhism obliges us. While in Tibet many of these practices and accoutrements are part of the culture and not seen as exotic, in the West they have become so. There are high thrones for the teachers, brocade seat covers and tablecloths, robes, long horns, short horns, bells, drums, processions, deep chanting, and, oh yes, hats! Yellow ones, red ones, black ones. With all the paraphernalia, how could one ever get bored practicing Tibetan Buddhism? Yet after a while, these become old, and we’re left with our own mind, our own suffering. Having little endurance or commitment to our practice or our teachers, we seek fresh stimulation. We fail to notice that our teachers still do foundational practices and attend basic teachings given by their spiritual mentors. We neglect to see that repetition may be just what we need or that exploring the reason for our boredom could yield fresh insights.

Consumer culture is modeled on instant gratification. We say we want a close relationship with a spiritual mentor, but when that mentor’s guidance challenges our desires or pushes our ego’s buttons too much, we stop seeking it. At the beginning of our practice, we profess to be earnest spiritual seekers, aiming for enlightenment. But after the practice has remedied our immediate problem—the emotional fallout of a divorce, grief at the loss of a loved one, or life’s myriad setbacks—our spiritual interest fades, and we once again seek happiness in possessions, romantic relationships, technology, and career.

In past ages, spiritual aspirants underwent difficulty to meet teachers. Tibetans traversed the high Himalayas to meet wise mentors in India; Chinese crossed the Takla Makan Desert and Karakoram Mountains to attend monasteries and bring back scriptures from India. But our consumer attitude has led us to expect results with little effort. We think, “Why should we have to travel to attend teachings? Our teacher should come to us! We have jobs, families, such busy lives. We don’t have time to cross town, let alone go to another continent.” Forgetting that the seeker’s very effort and struggle open him or her to the teachings, we resent that our spiritual practice should impinge on our preferences.

In addition, receiving teachings or doing spiritual practices takes time, which we don’t have. We ask our teachers to “modernize” the teachings and practices—to shorten and simplify them—so they will conveniently fit into our lives. As consumers functioning in a world of supply and demand, we take our business elsewhere if our wishes aren’t satisfied. Asian Buddhists make offerings to the monastic community to accumulate merit that brings a good rebirth. Looking at them, we Westerners say, “They’re doing spiritual business. They’re practicing dana—generosity—to get something for themselves.” Thinking that we’re superior to Asians following old traditions, we don’t give to the monastic community. Holding to our work ethic, we want would-be recipients to go out and get a job.

And when we do give dana, what is our attitude? At the end of a retreat, someone gives a “dana talk,” saying dana is generosity freely given but that we should think of all we’ve received from the teacher, who has a family, car, mortgage, credit card bills, and needs our financial support. Hasn’t dana, then, become another way of paying for services rendered? Engaging in rigorous mental calculations to determine what amount is reasonable for such services, we miss the point of dana, which is to take delight in giving and to give from the heart. We should give because we want to be free from the hindrance of miserliness, appreciate the dharma, want others to be able to hear teachings, and wish to support practitioners who live simply and devote their time to spiritual study and practice.

Consumerism breeds self-centeredness, and our spiritual practice centers on me, my needs, my preferences, what works for me. We think, “What can I get from this? How will it benefit me?” Thus a dharma center, temple, or monastery becomes a place where we go to receive, not to give. If we don’t think an activity meets our needs, we don’t have the time or money to support it. I regularly visit an Asian temple where parents and nonparents work in the kitchen during the dharma summer camps for kids. Why? Because they enjoy being part of a community. They care about children and the future of society. They want to support activities that benefit others. Giving is part of their spiritual practice, and they enjoy it.

In a consumer society, we derive status from using certain products. Being close to a famous teacher uplifts a student’s spiritual status. Having that teacher stay in our home, ride in our car, bless our religious objects, or sign a photo elevates our status. One of the best ways to become close to a teacher is by being a big donor, obliging teachers to see us in order to show their appreciation. We don’t want to give anonymously and miss a possible reward.

We also get status by possessing valuable spiritual items. We buy beautiful statues, exquisite paintings of religious figures, and lovely photographs of our teachers, which we display on an elaborate altar in our home. When our spiritual friends visit, we make sure they admire our collection of artifacts, but when our relatives visit, we discreetly cover them to avoid their inquiries. We have the latest spiritual books (preferably autographed by the author), a comfy meditation cushion, and the requisite prayer beads (made of crystal or stone, not plastic, and blessed by a holy being).

In addition, we collect spiritual events. We can rattle off a list of retreats we have attended or initiations we have taken. We have become connoisseurs of retreat centers, which we critique for newcomers. We boast of attending large teachings by famous teachers. And we pat ourselves on the back for being such sincere practitioners.

The consumer mentality infects teachers as well. Notices of dharma events don’t just announce an event, but actively sell a product, in this case the teacher or the teaching. Most ads display an enticing photo of a spiritual master who is smiling radiantly or looking wisely into the distance. He or she is, the ads declare, a highly realized, well-respected, fully accomplished master. The topic being taught is a secret teaching that in the past was given to only a select number of qualified disciples. It is the supreme teaching by which previous masters have attained enlightenment. You can receive this for a mere $99.95 plus dana for the teacher. Register early to reserve a seat. What happened to the age-old custom of humble masters who keep their qualities hidden?

With a sincere motivation, letting people who could benefit from a spiritual teaching or retreat know about it is valid and necessary. We need to consider how to do this without hype in a culture that thrives on hype.

In a consumer economy, success is measured by numbers. Thus many spiritual teachers hope attendance at teachings is large, dana continually increases, their books sell well, and invitations to speak on television and radio programs are plentiful. To what extent do we decide where we teach based on the amount of dana we will receive? Is it just coincidence that many teachers go to wealthy communities? How many teachers go to developing countries or to lower-income areas in our own country, where dana is meager?

Finances are necessary to spread the teachings. How can teachers procure support consistent with right livelihood? Do we drop hints, flatter, or subtly coerce people so that they will offer money to us or to our organization? Do we give donors extra perks that are denied to other devotees who may be more sincere but not as well-off? To market a product, it must be appealing to potential buyers. Buddhism says that skillful means—teaching according to the disposition and interests of the students—are necessary to guide people on the path. But when do our skillful means degenerate into marketing?

Do we omit certain ideas or teachings, or explain them away because potential students don’t like them and will stop coming? How much do we water down the scriptural teachings in the name of skillful means, when our motivation is actually attracting and maintaining a large following?

Our consumer mentality as spiritual students and teachers draws us away from actualizing our deepest spiritual aspirations. In Buddhism the distinction between spiritual and nonspiritual actions is made primarily in terms of motivation. Motivations seeking only the happiness of this life are considered worldly because they focus on our own immediate happiness; motivations aspiring to good future rebirth, liberation, and enlightenment are spiritual because they seek long-term goals that benefit self and others.

When describing a mind that seeks the happiness of only this life, the Buddha outlined eight worldly concerns. These eight fall into four pairs: (1) attachment to having money and material possessions; displeasure when we don’t have them, (2) attachment to praise, approval, and ego-pleasing words; displeasure when we are criticized, (3) attachment to having a good reputation and image; displeasure when they are tainted, and (4) attachment to pleasurable sense objects—sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and tactile objects; displeasure when encountering unpleasant sense objects. Personally speaking, when I examine my mental states, most of them consist of these eight, so that having a pure dharma motivation is quite difficult.

Spiritual consumerism clearly falls into the eight worldly concerns. While it is often masked by clever rationalizations, it still enslaves us to the happiness of only this life and sabotages our noble aspiration so that no true dharma practice can actually occur.

Perhaps most distressing is the harm spiritual consumerism has on others. It threatens the purity of our spiritual traditions by enticing us to “adjust” the meaning of the teachings, thus depriving future generations of pure spiritual instructions. It causes others to lose faith in the efficacy of practice because they see us teaching one thing but acting oppositely. It leads spiritual institutions to create structures that harm the very people they promise to help.

We must become aware of how the consumer mentality functions in us and in our spiritual communities and institutions. We need to revive appreciation for the traditional model of a practitioner who lives a life of simplicity and humility, sincerity and endeavor, kindness and compassion. We must choose teachers with these qualities, cultivate these qualities in ourselves, and guide our students in developing them. We must remember that the purpose of a spiritual institution is not to preserve itself, but to facilitate the teaching and practice of a spiritual tradition. We should have only as much institutional structure as needed to do that, no more. This is essential to maintain the vitality of our spiritual traditions and to prevent them from becoming empty shells.

Buddhists are attempting to introduce dharma values and establish a substantial role for the dharma in Western culture, but consumer mentality impedes this. Our collective challenge is to practice and teach the dharma in ways that benefit contemporary culture and at the same time preserve the purity of the teachings.

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A common misunderstanding exists that the Buddha wanted his followers to leave society. This is incorrect. Where can we ever live where we are entirely disconnected from other living beings? In a monastery, in a dharma center, in a family, we are always in relationship to those immediately around us as well as to the broader society and to all sentient beings. Even in a remote hermitage we still live in relationship with each and every living being. Our challenge is to make this relationship a healthy one: physically, verbally, and mentally. With a pure motivation, voting and being politically active can be ways of sharing our vision and values with others, in an attempt to stop harm and create happiness in society.

The challenges of being an informed voter and a wise citizen are many. For example, how do we keep abreast of current issues without being swept away by the media blitz? How can we learn enough to make wise choices without becoming involved in trivial affairs or allowing attachment and anger to arise toward candidates and their views? This involves discipline on our part. We need to have a wise relationship with the media, knowing how much we can handle, discerning media excesses, and halting our infatuation, distraction, and addiction to TV, radio, newspapers, and the Internet. We only develop this balance by examining our own minds, and by trial and error in our daily lives.

Another challenge is forming wise views without clinging to them as part of our ego identity. “I am a Democrat.” “I support affirmative action.” We can all too easily solidify these labels into identities that we then feel compelled to defend. How can we have views and yet make sure our minds are tolerant of others who hold opposing ones? Sometimes it seems to me that some Western Buddhists expect all other Western Buddhists to have similar political views. A woman in our center had to remind us, during a discussion on compassion and politics, that she was a Buddhist and a Republican.

We must also be mindful not to make the opposition party and its candidates into solid figures that we then disapprove of, ridicule, fear, and even hate. One person once said to me, “I have compassion for almost everyone, but don’t know how to have compassion for Republicans.” If, in the name of caring about the welfare of all sentient beings, we condemn those who hold different views, we have adopted their mental state: We help our friends (those who agree with our opinions) and are hostile to our enemies (those who have different views). Much meditation is necessary to separate people from their views, knowing that although someone’s views may seem harmful, those people still have the Buddha potential. Repeatedly re-forming our attitudes is required to develop equanimity toward all.

How do we use Buddhist values to inform our political decisions? Or do we first decide what we believe and then select a quotation from the Buddha to validate our opinion? For example, one person could say, “The Buddha believed that people should make their own decisions and be responsible for them. Therefore, as a Buddhist, I am pro-choice.”

Another person could say, “The Buddha said killing is a destructive action. Therefore, as a Buddhist, I oppose abortion.” In other hot social and political issues, similar things occur. Yet another challenge lies in choosing compassionate methods to accomplish our political and social goals. For example, do we boycott Chinese goods and oppose China having Most Favored Nation status because we want freedom for Tibet? Many people do, yet His Holiness the Dalai Lama opposes such action because it will harm the average Chinese, who is not responsible for the government policy on Tibet. As a supporter of freedom for Tibet, do we band together with Jesse Helms, who also opposes China, although some of his other political views may be repugnant to us?

By now, we have found ourselves deep in questions. Each of us must spend quiet time in reflection, looking at our own mind and coming to our own conclusions. While the cushion leads us to compassionate action in the world, these actions lead us back to the cushion. They are interdependent.

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Karma means action, and refers to intentional physical, verbal, or mental actions. These actions leave imprints or seeds upon our mindstreams, and the imprints ripen into our experiences when the appropriate conditions come together. For example, with a kind heart we help someone. This action leaves an imprint on our mindstream, and when conditions are suitable, this imprint will ripen into our receiving help when we need it. The seeds of our actions continue with us from one lifetime to the next and do not get lost. However, if we don’t create the cause or karma for something, then we won’t experience that result: if a farmer doesn’t plant seeds, nothing will grow. If an action brings about pain and misery in the long term, it is called negative, destructive, or nonvirtuous. If it brings about happiness, it is called positive, constructive, or virtuous. Actions aren’t inherently good or bad, but are only designated so according to the results they bring.

All results come from causes that have the ability to create them. If we plant apple seeds, an apple tree will grow, not chili. If chili seeds are planted, chili will grow, not apples. In the same way, if we act constructively, happiness will ensue; if we act destructively, problems will result. Whatever happiness and fortune we experience in our lives comes from our own positive actions, while our problems result from our own destructive actions.

According to Buddhism, there is no one in charge of the universe who distributes rewards and punishments. We create the causes by our actions, and we experience their results. We are responsible for our own experience. The Buddha didn’t create the system of actions and their effects, in the same way that Newton didn’t invent gravity. Newton simply described what exists. Likewise, the Buddha described what he saw with his omniscient mind to be the natural process of cause and effect occurring within the mindstream of each being. By doing this, he showed us how best to work within the functioning of cause and effect in order to experience happiness and avoid pain.

When we see dishonest people who are wealthy, or cruel people who are powerful, or kind people who die young, we may doubt the law of actions and their effects. This is because we are looking at only a short period of this one life. Many of the results we experience in this life are the results of actions done in previous lives, and many of the actions we do in this life will ripen only in future lives. The wealth of dishonest people is the result of their generosity in preceding lives. Their current dishonesty is leaving the karmic seed for them to be cheated and to experience poverty in future lives. Likewise, the respect and authority given to cruel people is due to positive actions they did in the past. In the present, they are misusing their power, thus creating the cause for future pain. Kind people who die young are experiencing the result of negative actions such as killing done in past lives. However, their present kindness is planting seeds or imprints on their mindstreams for them to experience happiness in the future.

Karma is both collective and individual. Collective karma is the actions we do together as a group: soldiers use weapons, a group of religious practitioners pray or meditate. The results of these actions are experienced together as a group, often in future lives. Yet each member of a group thinks, speaks, and acts slightly differently, thus creating individual karma, the results of which each person will experience him­ or herself.

♦

Adapted from What Color is Your Mind? by Thubten Chodron (Snow Lion Publications). 

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