Heaven can wait : parable

Showing posts with label parable. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 24, 2016

The Truth Parable

Yan Liben - Thirteen Emperors Scroll,

7th century China, detail

One leisurely evening, a king asked a certain courtier: "You appear to be a man of integrity. Why is it that you are the target of so much criticism, slander and hatred?"

The official replied: "Your Majesty, when the torrential rains of spring arrive, farmers are elated because their fields are well-irrigated. Pedestrians, on the other hand, are unhappy because the streets are muddy and slippery. When the summer moon is as clear and bright as a mirror, poets and writers rejoice at the opportunity to travel and compose couplets and poems, while thieves and felons are distressed at the brightness of the moonlight! If even the impartial heaven and earth are the object of blame and resentment, love and hate, how can this subject of yours, imperfect and full of blemishes, escape denigration and criticism?"

"Thus, I venture to think, we should remain calm in the face of praise or criticism, think it over, and not rush to believe it. If a king believes gossip, his subjects lose their lives; if parents believe gossip, their children are hurt; if brothers and sisters, husbands and wives, believe words of gossip, they experience separation; if relatives, friends and neighbors believe gossip, they sever relations with one another. Fault-finding is really more noxious than snakes and serpents, sharper than swords and knives, killing without spilling a single drop of blood."

According to the judgement of history, this courtier was considered to be a disloyal official. His answer, however, was sound and reasonable, and a worthy example for later generations. It is still quoted today...

The truth seems to always lie in the eye of the beholder. But is that really so?

Retold by Dominique Teng

Source of parable unknown, but greatly appreciated
Image source here

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

A Courage to Say "No"

A man was riding a donkey. He saw a wanderer carrying a large bundle. “Are you by any chance on your way to Las Cruces?” asked the wanderer. “Indeed, I am” responded the man on a donkey. “Could you give me a lift?” asked the man. “I am sure my donkey would not mind a bit. Get on.” said the man on a donkey.

Relieved and happy, the wanderer got on, placing the heavy bundle on the animal's back and both men went on in silence contemplating their luck. After a while the donkey owner asked: “Isn’t my donkey great?” “Oh, yes sir. You have such a great donkey!”

They went in silence for another mile when the man with a bundle said happily: “Don’t we have a great donkey, or what?” Shocked at what he just heard, the donkey’s owner stopped the animal on the spot and told the man with a bundle to get off his donkey. “But why?” asked the surprised man. “I know the kind of you! First, it was my donkey that was great. Then, it was our donkey that was great. If it goes like that, after another mile you will probably tell me how great your donkey was! Get off! I have nothing more to say.”

Have you ever been in a situation where you had no choice but to say “No” to someone who seemed to have almost taken charge over your life?

Last month a very good friend of mine was asked to baby-sit a dog. The dog’s owner had to go on a short trip and my friend did not mind a bit to have her dog in his house over the weekend since his own dog loved to play with the other dog. The woman came back from her trip and took her dog home. Only a few days later she demanded that my friend take care of her dog again. And again. And again. It did not matter that it was the middle of the week and my friend was at work. He had to report at the woman’s house and take her dog with him. In no time the woman became a social leech – someone who would suck the life out of you but was almost impossible to get rid of unless, of course, you took very drastic measures.

Many of the so-called “good souls” become victims of egoistic manipulators. We offer help, we offer advice, we are friendly, we do a favor for someone who asked and before we even notice, our friends, spouses, relatives, colleagues, neighbors or acquaintances not only come for more, they seem to move into the center of our attention and rearrange our schedules. They demand full attention and terrorize us with phone calls, e-mails and spontaneous visits. Sometimes the situation becomes so unbearable that we are too scared to even answer the phone or open the door. We suffer and yet, we are unable to say “No.”

We are unable to say “No” because we fear that we might hurt or offend someone. We are afraid to lose a friend or be accused of selfishness or indifference. We love harmony and want social approval. And we would rather suffer or hide instead of facing the person head on. But is it worth it?

The choice is really between our own frustration and our own happiness. Saying “No” may be the first step to a more fulfilled and happier life, but it takes a lot of courage. We might indeed become unpopular and lose some friends at first, but knowing that we are in control is more precious than friendships with unscrupulous people.

Saying “No” does not have to be hurtful or offensive, but we have to clearly mark our boundaries. We do not have to please others, and we definitely do not have to put their needs before our own.

Those who feel offended by our own “demarcation” are probably not our real friends because real friendship is based on respect. Boundaries do not put us into isolation, they simply define our private space in which we feel authentic and comfortable. Learning to protect our personal boundaries is necessary if we want to live a genuinely happy life.

By Dominique Allmon

Image source here

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Stop the Train

Bernina Express, Switzerland

The story is told of a man who, being late for a trip, arrived at a railroad station and jumped onto the first available train.

Extenuated, he dozed off for a while and then upon waking up, saw the train rumbling along at full speed toward an unknown destination. He began querying everyone, complaining aloud and finally crying and shouting. He demanded that the train stop to let him off.

The more excited he became, the more the other passengers, eerily silent and downcast, seemed puzzled by his behavior.

Finally a kind old man told him, "don't you know, this train has only one destination, the ocean depths from which no one ever returns."

Once we are born, our final destination is death - the deep ocean. Why fret and fuss? All we can do is to use our time on earth to develop the Bodhi-mind, seeking Enlightenment for ourselves and others.

So, instead of fighting the inevitable we should accept the highest reality of human existence. When we stop wasting our energy and accept what is, we might even enjoy the ride with all its intricacies.

Parable source unknown, but greatly appreciated

Image source here

Monday, July 21, 2014

Everything Is An Illusion - The Rope and Snake Zen Parable

~ The Rope and the Snake Zen Parable ~

There is an old Buddhist parable that tells of a man walking home one evening. In the half-light he sees on the path a snake apparently crossing in front of him. He starts and jerks himself away, heart beating fast, wide-eyed and alert. Peering closely he suddenly realizes that he was mistaken, in fact it is an old piece of rope! Relieved and laughing to himself at his foolishness he goes to step over it and glancing down suddenly realizes the rope is a string of jewels. He gasps in awe!

A simple story and we nod and ‘get the point’. But do we realize how often each day opportunities arise for such mistaken identities?

The playwright Alan Bennett tells the story of a holiday at a hotel in Harrogate with his mother. They were taking tea, one afternoon, when a smartly dressed middle-aged woman entered the room with a younger man in tow. Alan’s mother turned to her son and said, “She’s here with her boyfriend, I see!” The next day, while taking tea again, the woman enters alone. Alan’s mother says “I see they’ve had a row then!”

It’s not just that I continually commentate and interpret what goes on around me, but that this ‘story’ - of thoughts and feelings I weave filters my perception of what is real. If I think you are a great person then I see you as one. If I feel the world is a hostile place then I see other people out to get me everywhere I go. Once I think something, it is as if it becomes real and I cannot distinguish between what the situation is and what I think and feel about it.

Walking home at twilight in India it would not be unrealistic to see a cobra slithering across the path. An expectation, a flutter of fear, the half-light, an ambiguous object across the path, imagination can supply the rest. It might be worth remembering that next time you meet with someone you have a bad feeling about and they seem to be antagonizing you.

Story as told by the Venerable Sochu

Story source here
Image source here

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Natural Beauty

A young monk was in charge of the garden within a famous Zen temple. He had been given the job because he loved the flowers, shrubs, and trees. Next to his temple there was another, a much smaller temple where a very old Zen master lived.

One day, when the temple was expecting some special guests, the young monk took extra care in tending to the garden. He pulled the weeds, trimmed the shrubs, combed the moss, and spent a long time meticulously raking up and carefully arranging all the dry autumn leaves. As he worked, the old master watched him with interest from across the wall that separated the two temples.

When the young man had finished his work in the garden, he stood back to admire his work. "Isn't it beautiful," he called out to the old master. "Yes," replied the old man, "but there is something missing. Help me over this wall and I'll put it right for you."

After hesitating, the young monk lifted the old master over and set him down. Slowly, the master walked to the tree near the center of the garden, grabbed it by the trunk, and shook it. Leaves showered down all over the garden. "There," said the old man, "you can put me back now."

Image source unknown but greatly appreciated

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Castles in the Sand

Some children were playing on the beach. They made castles of sand, and each child defended his castle and said, "This one is mine!"

They kept their castles separate and would not allow any mistakes about which was whose. When the castles were all finished, one child kicked over someone else's castle and completely destroyed it. The owner of the castle flew into a rage, pulled the other child's hair, struck him with his fist and bawled out, "He has spoiled my castle! Come along all of you and help me to punish him as he deserves." The others all came to his help. They beat the guilty child mercilessly.

Then, they all went on playing in their sand castles, each saying, "This is mine! No one else may have it. Keep away! Don't touch my castle!"

But the evening came and it was getting dark. The children thought they ought to be going home. No one now cared what became of his castle. One child stamped on his, another pushed his over with both hands. Then they turned away and went back, each to his home thinking that what they did not destroy will be destroyed by the waves.

In this parable, Enlightenment is likened to the overcoming of the passion for existence with the cool evening. In the Pali version, the sand castles are likened to the body, which had been the object of grasping. After Awakening the body becomes a thing to be discarded and broken up, and eventually abandoned when life ends.

Yogacara Bhumi Sutra 4 (Quoted from World Scripture)

Friday, June 29, 2012

Life Is But a Dream

An elderly Zen Master, feeling that his time would soon come, devised a clever strategy to help his chief disciple achieve Great Awakening. He decided to drive the younger monk out of his complacency through an elaborate plan to "frame" him as a thief in disguise.

In the middle of the night, the Zen master would hide one of his valuable Buddha images and then cry "Thief, thief." The younger monks would all rush in, but there was no thief to be seen. Finally, after the third time, as the chief disciple ran into his room, the old master grabbed him and threw him on the floor, "Here is the thief. At last I have caught you red-handed!" The chief disciple was then denounced to one and all throughout the land.

The accused monk, once a teacher of a huge congregation, now completely disgraced and with nowhere to turn, his ego totally shattered, mulled over this flagrant injustice and at times even contemplated suicide. After several weeks of utter desperation, he suddenly experienced a Great Awakening: life is a dream, an illusion, a bubble, a shadow. This is the very teaching he had been trying to impart to the novices for so many years! He then rushed back to the Master, who upon seeing him, stood up, greeted him warmly and conferred the succession upon him.

Source of the article unknown but greatly appreciated

Saturday, January 28, 2012

It's All in Your Mind

There was once in China an expert archer. One day he went to a very high mountain with his bow on his back. While strolling on the mountain, he became thirsty and wanted to drink water. Fortunately, he found a small spring under a bush. He bent the bush and scooped the water with his hands. He drunk out of his hands until his thirst was quenched. It was only when he finished drinking that he thought he saw a snake crawling in the water. He immediately felt sick and wanted to spit out the water he had drunk, but the water would not come out. He became seriously nervous about the water in his stomach, feeling something wriggling in it. He was more than certain that he swallowed the snake. When he got back home he fell seriously ill. Numerous doctors gave him medical treatment, but in vain. Finally, he became nothing but skin and bones, resigning himself to die.

One day a traveler stopped at his home. Seeing the condition of the patient, he asked the reason. The patient told him that he saw a snake crawling in the water of the spring and that he had most certainly swallowed the beast.

The traveler said that he could cure the illness if the patient would do as he told him to do, taking him to the same spring where he had drunk the water.

He told the patient, who was still bearing the same bow on his back, to take exactly the same pose as he had the first time he was there. The patient reluctantly bent over the water and was just going to scoop it up with his hands when he screamed out, that a snake was crawling in the water again. The man told him to be quiet and to observe the snake more closely. The archer got control of himself and found that what he saw was not a snake, but a reflection of the bow he was carrying on his back.

When the sick archer realized that the snake he thought he had swallowed before was only a reflection of his bow, he felt very relieved and soon regained his health...

We must recognize that our mind is the creator of our world and our fate. Our senses play tricks on our minds and yet, we live in fear of things that are not even there. Just as the dust of fear accumulated on the archer's mind and he become healthy again when he was able to wipe the dust away, we must scrutinize our beliefs that obscure the reality of our existence. Only then we will be able live fulfilled lives.

Image by Chris Tamdjidi

Image source here

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Three Sieves of Socrates

One day, the old, wise Socrates walked down the street when all of a sudden an agitated man run up to him yelling: "Socrates, Socrates! I have to tell you something about your friend! You will not believe what I just heard!"

"Hold it right there," Socrates interrupted him. "The story you're about to tell me... did you let it go through the three sieves?"

"Three sieves?" asked the astonished man. "What three sieves, Socrates?"

"Three sieves, my good man. Three sieves. Let's try it," said Socrates.

"The first sieve is the one of truth. Did you examine whether what you were about to tell me was true?" asked the philosopher.

"Well, no, not really. I just overheard the story and was in a hurry to tell you..." said the man.

"Ah! Well, then you must have used the second sieve, the sieve of good?" asked Socrates. "Is it something good that you are about to tell me?"

"Hm, no... on the contrary, my dear Socrates," answered the man.

"Hmmm" the wise man said. "Let us use the third sieve then, the sieve of necessity. Is it absolutely necessary for you to tell me what you are so exited about?"

"Now that I think of it... No, it's not necessary at all," said the man.

"Well," Socrates said with a smile "If the story you are about to tell me isn't true, good, or necessary, just forget it and don't bother me with it anymore."

Sources of the story and the image unknown but greatly appreciated

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Just Two Words

There once was a monastery that was very strict. Following a vow of silence, no one was allowed to speak at all. But there was one exception to this rule. Every ten years, the monks were permitted to speak just two words.

After spending his first ten years at the monastery, one monk went to see the master. "It has been ten years," said the master. "What are the two words you would like to utter?"

"Bed... hard..." said the monk. "I see," replied the master.

Ten years later, the monk returned to the master's office. "It has been ten more years," said the master. "What are the two words you would like to speak?"

"Food... stinks..." said the monk. "I see," replied the master.

Yet another ten years passed and the monk once again met with the master who asked, "What are your two words now, after these ten years?"

"I... quit!" said the monk. "Well, I can see why," replied the master. "All you ever do is complain."

Some people drift through life never learning anything at all. At times life may seem to be a difficult journey and some people master it better than others. One may wonder if they have particular talents, or more luck than others, but their secret is quite simple. One's circumstances are only a frame that holds the canvas, but each of us makes a more or less conscious decision about the painting that appears before us.

Many people live in a state of denial and self-deception. They either refuse to accept what is, or create a distorted vision of their own situation.

The very first step to happiness, however, is to accept what is. This does not mean that one has to resign oneself to one's circumstances. But by simply accepting the reality for what it is, we are able to make some changes.

By accepting that things are the way they are we simply open our minds to new possibilities. Acceptance helps reduce resistance to change and liberates inner potential for growth.

We might not always like where we are or even hate everything that our lives may have become. But acceptance is necessary if we want to change our condition: I am in a mess and unless I do something about it, I am destined to fall even deeper. Unless this shift in our minds happens, nothing will ever change.

This is a good starting point. The bed is hard and one may not like it at all and not even be able to do much about it at this very moment, but instead of wasting time on contemplating how bad things are, one should shift the attention to one's own potential.

Instead of repeating over and over that "Life sucks" one should say "I accept". But waiting for another ten years makes no sense at all. So why not say "Change now" and work towards a better, more fulfilled life.

By Dominique Allmon

Image source unknown but greatly appreciated

Saturday, August 13, 2011

The Magical Tree

There is an old parable about a poor man who wandered in the woods reflecting upon his many troubles. Exhausted from walking he stopped to take a rest and reclined against a tree. He did not know that this was a magical tree that would instantly grant anyone who came in contact with it all their wishes no matter how grand they were.

The man was exhausted and thirsty and wished he had something to drink. Instantly a cup of cool water was in his hand. Shocked, he looked at the water and did not quite know what to do with it. But he was too thirsty to waste it. He decided that the water was safe and drank it enjoying every single sip.

His thirst satisfied, the men realized that he was very hungry. Indeed, he did not even remember when was the last time he had a meal and wished for something to eat. An opulent meal appeared before him. Astonished, but too hungry to reject the delicacies he began to eat thinking in disbelief: "This really is very strange. There must be some kind of magic because my wishes were granted on the spot. What if I wanted something big? I never had a home... I wish for a beautiful house," he said out loud. And sooner than he could even finish the sentence, a neat home appeared before him.

A huge smile crossed his face and he wished for servants to take care of the house. When they appeared he realized that he wasn't dreaming. Things just materialized out of nowhere. He had somehow been blessed with an incredible power.

Now that he had a house, he wished for a beautiful, loving, clever woman to share his good fortune. Almost instantly a beautiful woman appeared and smiled at him.

"Wait a minute, this must be an illusion," he said to the woman. "I'm not this lucky. I must be dreaming or something. This cannot possibly be happening to me."

As he uttered this words, everything vanished as quickly as it appeared before him. He shook his head and said, "I knew it! This could not have been real," and then walked away thinking about his many troubles...

Friday, May 6, 2011

Mindfulness

Once upon a time there was once a man who wandered through the wilderness. He was unfortunate enough to stumble upon a ferocious tiger. Not giving much thought to the situation the terrified man began to run until he came to the edge of a cliff. There was nowhere else to run. Desperate to escape the jaws of the tiger, the man caught hold of a vine and swung himself over the edge of the cliff. Dangling down, he saw, to his dismay, there was a tigers' liar below him with even more tigers waiting for him to fall. Worse even, two little mice began to gnaw on the vine to which he was clinging. He knew that there was no way out. Any moment he would fall to a certain death. And that was when he noticed a wild strawberry growing on the cliff wall. Clutching the vine with one hand, he plucked the strawberry with the other and put it in his mouth. He savored the fruit and realized that he never knew a strawberry could be as sweet as this one.

The Zen parable of a cliffhanger is probably one of the most eye opening Buddhist parables. It teaches mindfulness. It teaches us to be present in the "here and now" and to savor the moment.

The vine in the parable represents our reality, the present moment that often goes unnoticed unless we are forced by some unusual circumstances to face it. The tiger symbolizes our fears and worries that make it impossible for us to enjoy our walk through life that is represented here by the wilderness. The tigers at the bottom of the precipice are the fears of the future, the disasters yet to come. The mice may be interpreted as symbols of our doubt and indecision constantly gnawing at the fabric of our being. The sweet taste of the wild strawberry symbolizes our awakening, a spontaneous realization of the true nature of existence.

A constant distraction and the unnecessary preoccupation with the past or the future makes it impossible for most people to stay really centered and "conscious". As their minds wander, they appear to be doing things almost unconsciously as if they were on an auto-pilot. They experience their reality as a projection from the past or the vision of the future and neither view allows them to enjoy the life for what it really is.

Fear and anxiety are strong emotions that prevent us from experiencing joy. We may think that this is an affliction of the modern mind, but it seems that people have always spent a lot of time wandering around with their minds. They wandered everywhere but seldom spent a moment in the now never really living their lives.

Nothing will change unless we consciously stop in our tracks and decide to stay in the present without wasting our time and energy on things that happened in the past and cannot ever be undone; without wasting our time speculating about the future that might never come the way we feared or hoped for. Some of us even manage to "write" a whole book about things that may never occur without realizing that our personal fiction not only prevents us from living consciously in the present, but that it stops us from taking any necessary action out of our imagined fear.

But just like in the parable, life sometimes forces us to face our worse fears. I moments of real or assumed danger we sometimes manage to open our eyes and see the things for what they really are. When we are desperate and think that there is absolutely nowhere else to go, we may unexpectedly gain a deeper understanding. Suddenly we are able to "see" for the first time and enjoy the beauty and value of small, insignificant things - a value that is not appreciated until we are forced out of our habitual blindness. This blindness, however, is acquired characteristic. As children, most of us were able to get completely lost in the the moment and forget the world around us. We could see magical things and were curious to explore exotic places even if they were only the backyards of our homes.

This childlike mind withers as soon as we grow older. Suddenly we are overburdened with our duties and there are things to be done and responsibilities to be taken. We become distracted and life is passing us by. Very often we are unconsciously busy, distracted, unaware of the beauty that surrounds us, unaware of the deeper sense that a single moment can carry. And unless we confront ourselves we will never be able to appreciate what the reality has to offer.

As someone once said: Enlightenment can be found in distraction from our daily distractions. Life happens now. And wild strawberries are delicious...

By Dominique Allmon

Image by Gregory Colbert

Thursday, March 3, 2011

The Blind Men and the Elephant Parable

Heaven can wait - The Blind Men and the Elephant

Image by Gregory Colbert

One day the Buddha received his disciples who came to see him with a nagging problem. "Sir, in Savatthi there are many wandering hermits and scholars who indulge in constant dispute and we are confused by what we hear. Some of them say that the world is infinite and eternal, others that it is finite and not eternal. Some say that the soul dies with the body, others that it lives on forever. They all sound very convincing so who is right?"

To answer their questions the Buddha told them an old story: "Once upon a time there was a raja who called to his servant and said, 'Come, good fellow, go and gather together in one place all the men of Savatthi who were born blind and show them an elephant. I want to describe the elephant to me the best way they can.' 'Very good, sire,' replied the servant, and he did as he was told. He said to the blind men assembled in a courtyard, 'Here before you is an elephant. The mighty raja wants you to describe it to him.' The blind men gathered around the beast and each touched a different part of the animal's body. One man touched its head, another its ears. One got to touch animal's long tusk, another touched the trunk. One man touched the foot, another the back. One man touched the tail, another the tusk.

"After the blind men touched the elephant, the raja went to each of them and asked, 'Well, blind man, have you seen the elephant? Tell me, what is it?'

Each man described what the felt with their hands and each said that that was the elephant. To one men it was like tree, to another like a snake. One thought it was like a lotus leaf in the pond, other thought it was sharp like a spear, yet another said it was like a rope... As each of them described the elephant to the raja in their own way, the blind men began to quarrel as each insisted that he had the right answer. Each knew better what an elephant was, but neither would agree that others got it right. To a delight of the rich man, a violent fight broke out. He then said, "Stop the quarrel at once! Elephant is neither a tree, nor a spear or all the other things you imagine it to be. Elephant is a large animal and each of you only touched a part of it.'

"Brethren," said the Buddha, "I want you to understand that these mendicants and scholars who hold various views and confuse your minds, are blind and unseeing just like the blind men in the raja's courtyard. In their ignorance they are by nature quarrelsome and each maintains that reality is such and such."

Then the Buddha said to his disciples:

"O how they cling and wrangle,
some who claim for preacher and monk the honored name!

For, quarreling, each to his view they cling.

Such folk see only one side of a thing."

Buddha used this parable to illustrate the sectarian disputes that took place in India at that time, but its wisdom goes much deeper than that.

This old Indian story explains the fallacy of our beliefs and the incompleteness of our perceptions of reality. It provides an insight into the relativity, opaqueness, and the strangely inaccessible nature of truth. Our knowledge is at best fragmentary and yet we insist on knowing the absolute truth. We are like the blind men in Buddha's parable. But just as neither of the blind men was completely right, neither was also completely wrong. This teaches us that we can only approach the truth, but we can never "see" the whole picture. To understand what things really are, we may have to consider looking at what others have to say and acknowledge that their views contribute to the whole picture.

Some approximations of truth may seem "better" than others. To many of us the scientific method is what brings us closer to the full understanding of reality, while others insist on intuitive experience and faith.

As our technology improves with time, we are able to see and understand things previously unknown to man. With each scientific discovery our picture fills out. Today we know more than we ever thought possible and yet, we may never be able to find all the answers. This epistemological dilemma motivates scientists, philosophers, and theologians to look deeper.

Some answers are found in deep space, others in the mitochondria. Some answers may lie deep in our psyche, while others are found right in front of our very eyes. It takes more than one approach to find the truth and yet those who only had a glimpse of, unwisely insist on knowing it all.

By Dominique Allmon

Image source here

Saturday, January 29, 2011

The Master and the Thief

One evening, Zen master Shichiri Kojun was reciting sutras when a thief entered his house with a sharp sword, demanding "money or life". Without any fear, Shichiri said, "Don't disturb me! Help yourself with the money, it's in that drawer". And then, without paying any attention to the thief, he resumed his recitation.

The thief was startled by this unexpected reaction, but he proceeded with his business anyway. While he was helping himself to the money, the master stopped and called, "Don't take all of it. Leave some for me to pay my taxes tomorrow". The thief left some money behind and prepared to leave. Just before he left, the master suddenly shouted at him, "You took my money and you didn't even thank me?! That's not polite!". This time, the thief was really shocked at such fearlessness. He thanked the master and ran away. The thief later told his friends that he had never been so frightened in his life.

A few days later, the thief was caught and confessed, among many others, his theft at Shichiri's house. When the master was called as a witness, he said, "No, this man did not steal anything from me. I gave him the money. He even thanked me for it."

The thief was so touched that he decided to change his ways. He repented. Upon his release from prison, he became a disciple of the master and studied the dharma with unsurpassed diligence. Many years later, he attained Enlightenment.

Image source unknown, but greatly appreciated

Friday, December 3, 2010

False State of Harmony

"Sincere repentance" after Paolo Coelho

The monk Chu Lai was beaten by a teacher who did not believe anything the monk said. However, the teacher’s wife who was a follower of Chu Lai, demanded that her husband apologized to the monk.

Displeased, but afraid to contradict his wife, the man went to the temple. He was accompanied by his wife who wanted to make sure that her husband apologized to the monk. Without much sincerity the man murmured some words of repentance.

“I do not forgive you,” replied Chu Lai, “go back to your work.”

The woman was shocked. “My husband is humiliated and you were not generous!”

But Chu Lai calmly responded:

“Within my soul there is no rancor. But if he is not truly sorry, it is better for him to recognize now that he is mad at me. If I had accepted his apology, we would be creating a false state of harmony, and this would further increase the anger of your husband.”

Image source here

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Two Traveling Monks

Can we put an end to our own suffering?

One of my favorite Zen parables wisely talks about letting go of things. For many of us this is a very difficult task. Our minds crave permanence and we try to hold on to things without even realizing that our attachments are the main cause of our suffering. We define ourselves through our experience and through our memories. Without them we feel invisible, insignificant. For as long as we can hold on to something we feel we exist. Even if it is pain of a past experience, a disease, or a loss of a loved one. We seem to know who we are and which way we are going, even if the pain is tearing us apart.

Two traveling monks reached a river where they met a young and very attractive woman. She was in despair. She had to cross the river, but was afraid to do so. The current was too strong and she was afraid of drowning. Without hesitation, the older monk picked her up onto his shoulders and carried her across the river. Arriving safely on the other bank he sat her down and bowed. She expressed her gratitude and departed.

The monks continued their journey in silence. Unable to hold his silence any longer, the younger monk spoke with reproach "Master, of all people you should have known that our spiritual teaching forbids us contact with women, but you have picked that one and carried her on your shoulders! How can that be!?"

"Brother," replied the master, "I set her down on the other side hours ago, but you are still carrying her."

Letting go of pain

This simple and amazing story describes the state of mind of most people. Long after the original experience, we are still carrying it around. This is especially true when the experience was painful. The First Noble Truth teaches us that there is suffering. The human existence in itself is painful and filled with suffering. We experience physical, emotional, and existential pain.

According to the Second Noble Truth, this pain is amplified by our own attitude towards our experience and our attachment to it. We "own" our experience. We "own" our pain. When pain becomes our identity, we are not willing to let go of it easily. We hold on to everything that was done to us. We hold on to every mistake we have made if only out of fear that we could make the same mistake again. We hold on to every false belief that only perpetuates our suffering because letting go of it feels like losing ourselves without a trace. Sometimes we would deny ourselves the right to joyful existence and chose to suffer holding on to the injuries of the past. We never forget. If the memories are not present in our conscious minds, they are deeply embedded in our subconscious.

Although the psychology of suffering is very complex, it is possible to break the attachment to pain. The Third Noble Truth postulates that it is possible to end suffering. Meditation calms the mind and allows profound introspection and self-analysis. In severe cases psychotherapy may be necessary. The success of any of these approaches lies in our ability to understand that the only way to end suffering is to detach ourselves from it. Letting go of pain takes courage, but it is absolutely necessary if we want to live happy, fearless, and fulfilled lives. Letting go of pain takes discipline. Only when we consciously focus our minds on the present, are we able to experience our lives to the full.

The Fourth Noble Truth teaches us that there is a way to end suffering. There is no promise that we would never suffer again, but our existence in the present allows us to sort through our emotions in the instant, when they arise, and to acknowledge the situation for what it really is. We do not have to carry the experience around for the rest of our lives. We could leave it right there and move on. Detachment from pain is by no means a loss of identity. The memory of our experience does not go away. We do not deny its existence. It only assumes a different role in our personal history. We need courage and discipline to go through this process. We just have to convince ourselves that we are worth it and that there is a life after the pain is gone. Every single day new perspectives open before us. We just have to allow them in. And remember, we all have to cross a river, sometimes with a very heavy load. Do not forget to leave your load as soon as you crossed your river.

By Dominique Allmon

Image source unknown but greatly appreciated

Monday, October 18, 2010

Good Luck

Those who mistake their good luck for their merit are inevitably bound for disaster. - J. Christopher Herold

Once upon a time, a poor farmer was dismayed to learn that his horse had died during the night. "That's terrible," his neighbors said, "What a bad luck!" "Maybe," said the farmer to his friends.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the village, a certain rich man heard of the farmer's plight and took pity on him. He gave one of his many horses to the poor man as a gift. "That's wonderful! How lucky you are!" exclaimed the farmer's friends. But the farmer only said, "Maybe."

Only two months later, frightened by flashes of lightning and bursts of thunder during a fierce summer storm, the poor farmer's horse lept over the fence and ran away to the mountains. "That's terrible! What a bad luck!" the farmer's neighbors exclaimed. "Maybe." replied the farmer.

In less than three months time, and much to everyone's amazement, the runaway horse returned to the poor farmer. But he did not return alone, for he was accompanied by a magnificent stallion. Now the farmer had two horses! The neighbors marveled at such great fortune. "That's wonderful! How lucky you are!" they said. But the farmer simply replied, "Maybe."

One day the farmer's only son thought this would be a good time to break in the new stallion for riding. But the small, thin boy was no match for the mighty horse. He was violently thrown from the horse's back and severely injured. He broke several bones in his leg and would not walk for a long while. "That's terrible," said the neighbors, "now your son is lame. What a bad luck!" "Maybe," came the answer.

At this time in China there was a war going on between two rival warlords. One day a military officer came to the village to conscript young men. He took with him all able bodied young men to fight the war in a neighboring province. Many of the village's favorite sons would later perish. "How lucky you are that your son is lame, for he is safe with you," the neighbors said. Thanking them for their good wishes, the poor farmer said, "Maybe."

Not too sad and never too overjoyed! This was Taoist way of life. Probably like not many other people, Taoists believed that the things are in a constant motion. They developed the philosophy of yin and yang which not only suggested the constant flux, but also clarified that everything in the universe has its opposite counterpart.

There is no good without evil, no beauty without ugliness, no joy without distress. Taoism taught that when dreadful things happen to us, extreme distress is improper because things are in constant motion and the energy in the universe flows into its other natural extreme. This is when really good things happen. But once again, extreme joy is improper. Those who understood this natural flow would enjoy their life with all its ups and downs.

This constant flow of energy between naturally occurring dualities was expression of the universal harmony between yin and yang forces that govern the universe.

Since ancient times the Chinese understood that these two dynamic forces do not exist in opposition to one another. They are complementary. Everything in the universe has both aspects - the yin and the yang. Either of the forces may manifest more strongly in an object or a situation depending on the criterion of judgment and observation. The judgements we make depend on our perception of things but they do not reflect the underlying reality that often remains hidden.

Only a foolish man believes that all that glitters is gold. And only a foolish man believes the opposite.

Dominique Allmon

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

The Moon Cannot Be Stolen

Once upon a time there was a Zen Master who lived a very simple, one could even say austere, life in a little hut at the foot of a tall mountain. One evening, while he was away, a thief sneaked into the hut only to find there was nothing at all in it for him to steal.

When the Zen Master returned home he found the disappointed thief on his porch.

"You have come a long way to visit me," he told the prowler, "and you should not return empty handed. Please take my clothes as a gift."

The thief was bewildered, but took the clothes and ran away as fast as he could.

The Master sat naked and admired the moon. "Poor fellow," he mused, " I wish I could give him this beautiful moon."

Friday, March 19, 2010

Happiness Is a Journey...

...or how Zen can help us to stay focused and calm in adverse circumstances

Happiness can mean so many different things. It is one of those ephemeral categories that elude definition in absolute terms. People seem to set their individual standards for happiness and make judgments from their own point of view. And while some people run ceaselessly from one experience to another in hope of finding the ultimate happiness, others appear to be quite content with what they have. But what happens when apparently happy people experience adversity?

In February a cupboard in my kitchen came off the wall and crashed on the floor together with my china and my collection of glasses. I was in the bathroom. I heard some noise, but thought that my neighbor had dropped something. Later, when I went to the kitchen, I could not believe my eyes. I could not enter the kitchen because the entrance was blocked by the damaged piece of furniture and the china and glass that was scattered all over the kitchen floor. Interestingly, I stayed completely calm. I looked at the spectacle and tried to assess the damage. In the sink I saw a plate, a Roswell mug from my husband, a tea cup and a saucer, and a water glass. I was busy writing in the morning and maybe a bit too lazy, so I did not wash these things right after my breakfast. And there they were. Intact.

The kitchen was a mess and the cupboard would have to be moved away and repaired or replaced. I had a few of my things left intact, so I did not have to run out to a store right away. I knew though, that sooner or later, I would have to go shopping to replace the broken china and the glasses, and I would have to spend money that I originally intended to spend on something else. Moreover, the timing of this incident could not be worse because I was really busy and did not have the time to take care of the mess. But when actually is the best time for a little disaster in our lives? If we could, we would make them disappear before they even occur, but this is not how things work. Some things cannot be prevented. They just happen. There are people who believe that things happen for a reason so that we can learn from them and grow. The most important lesson you can learn is to stay calm and detach yourself from the event. Accept what has happened, clear the mess, and move on.

Years ago I might have had a minor nervous breakdown at the sight of my favorite china lying crushed to pieces on my kitchen floor. A bowl that could never be replaced. A favorite tea cup. Elegant wine glasses. Even though I knew that things did break or could get lost, but could actually be replaced, a loss would make me sad, sometimes even unhappy. I would have been sad for days reminding myself how horrible it was not to have that particular object, or a pet, or a person in my life anymore. But not this time. Not after years of preoccupation with Buddhist philosophy, yoga, and meditation. Not after years of a life in the present. Not after the realization that everything is transient, impermanent, and illusory.

Very often we define ourselves through our possessions. Our possessions often have a particular meaning to us and their loss may be very painful. The more emotions or memories are associated with the object, the more unique and irreplaceable it becomes to us. We perceive the loss as something unbearable. There is no consolation. And definitely, there is nothing that could ever replace it in our hearts. Or is there?

In our day to day existence, no matter how happy and fulfilled, we have to face situations that sometimes are beyond our control. Some of us become completely overwhelmed, while others face the adversity with determination to find a solution. They refuse to give up or become victims. They do not delight in their pain and do not ruminate incessantly on their problem. Instead, they demonstrate incredible resilience. They acknowledge what has happened, accept it, calculate the consequences, look for a solution, and move on. It does not mean that they do not feel anything when adversities occur in their lives. Their emotions may be very intense, but they have learned that to worry about things that cannot be undone, prevented, or influenced in any possible way, is a waste of time and precious energy they could rather use to find a solution or to heal their own pain. The glass may appear to have a wrong size, but it is never empty. To accept what happened does not mean to resign oneself to the circumstances. Resistance and refusal to accept creates more tension and pain. To accept means to see the situation as what it really is and let go.

We are never completely helpless. We may not always be in control of the circumstances we are in, but we can always consciously chose the way how we respond to them. Herein lies the difference between those who feel truly happy and fulfilled and those who see themselves as helpless victims of bad luck, higher injustice, or some kind of punishment they deserve anyway. A shift in perspective would make a great difference, but it does not come as easily as one may wish. It involves mental and emotional discipline and most importantly, the realization that it is futile to hold on to things. Buddhism teaches us that everything is in flux. Nothing lasts forever. Because our minds need some kind of permanence in the floating world, they create an illusion of continuity. Sometimes the illusion is shattered like the china in my kitchen and whole worlds collapse. Yet, to those who live in the moment and savor its essence, the cracks in the surface are as impermanent and illusory as everything else.

Happiness is a journey, not a destination. Travel well...

By Dominique Allmon

Image source unknown but greatly appreciated

Happiness is a journey... by Dominique Allmon is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

Friday, March 12, 2010

Anxiety and the Buddhist Concept of Impermanence

Ilya Prigogine made an assertion that uncertainty is an inherent cosmic expression deeply embedded in the core of reality. For a human being this uncertainty can result in anxiety. This isn't a modern phenomenon. The Buddha discussed the matter and taught detachment.

In our fast-paced lives change seems to be the only tangible constant. Everything is changing, sometimes faster than we would wish to. We never know what may come next. We try to hold on to things, images, feelings, people... But nothing really lasts unchanged long enough and we are never certain how things will unfold. This uncertainty creates anxiety. Uncertainty is deeply embedded in the core of reality. We intuitively understand that we cannot hold on to things and yet, wish that they last at least a little longer if not forever. We want them to remain unchanged unless, of course, they are painful and "bad" for us. Then, they should go away quickly. The good things seem to never last long enough, the bad ones are interminable. But just as the desirable phenomena pass away, so do the undesirable ones. Holding on to any of them causes unnecessary pain and anxiety.

"One day some people came to the master and asked: How can you be happy in a world of such impermanence where you cannot protect your loved ones from harm, illness or death? The master held up a glass and said: Someone gave me this glass. It holds my water admirably and it glistens in the sunlight. I touch it and it rings! One day the wind may blow it off the shelf, or my elbow may knock it from the table. I know this glass is already broken, so I enjoy it - incredibly." The Venerable Achaan Chah Subato

Impermanence is one of the central Buddhist concepts, especially in early Buddhism. The world that we know is inherently impermanent. In fact, we experience ourselves as impermanent, ever changing, transient beings. We are not the same persons that we were in our childhood, in our teens, or even a year, day or a minute ago. Every instant of our existence changes us. The minute changes take place on cellular level and in our psyche. The very fact that we breath, eat, and drink constantly changes our body chemistry. Cells die making space for new ones. Every event, every thought, every emotion leaves an imprint on our personality, on our belief system, on our physical body. We can see and feel the changes and yet, we are trying to create something permanent within us, something we can identify with, something precious we can hold on to.

"That nothing is static or fixed, that all is fleeting and impermanent, is the first mark of existence. It is the ordinary state of affairs. Everything is in process. Everything - every tree, every blade of grass, all the animals, insects, human beings, buildings, the animate and the inanimate - is always changing, moment to moment." Pema Chödrön, American Buddhist nun.

The very realization that we ourselves are transient causes pain and anxiety. We know that like everything we too will pass away, but have no knowledge or certainty on when and how this will happen. The older we become, the more fearful our existence, that is, unless we realize that our existence happens in the moment and we are a part of a bigger dimension called life.

The Vietnamese Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh offers a solution to our anxiety. He encourages us to think of ourselves as waves in the ocean. The simple characteristic of a wave is its transitory nature. It lasts only a moment just like we do. We live and die with every breath we take. Everything we ever do, we do it for the first and the last time in our lives. And one day we too will pass away and then, it will be as if we had never existed. So, why not accept the reality as it is and enjoy what we have right now? Incredibly!

We can learn to transform our anxiety and enjoy our lives to the fullest. The very understanding that we are just as transient as everything that surrounds us may open a new perspective. Instead of holding on to our castles in the air, we begin to live on a deeper level and consciously accept the fact that uncertainty and impermanence are inherent dimensions of reality.

By Dominique Allmon

Image credit here

Anxiety and the Buddhist Concept of Impermanence by Dominique Allmon is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

Heaven can wait...

Welcome to my eclectic blog. I am absolutely thrilled that you stopped by.

There are so many things to be done, so many places to be explored, so many emotions to be experienced, so much beauty to be created, that heaven can simply wait till we are done. Or can it?

One of my favorite movie directors, the fabulous Federico Fellini, believed that heaven was not a place, but a feeling. I agree as it is really up to us to create heaven in our hearts and minds and to experience bliss every single day no matter what our circumstances may be. Simple pleasures are often the most gratifying ones...

My only hope is that this blog will promote cultural curiosity and a sense of discovery in my readers.

With Love, Light and Laughter - Dominique Allmon

Delight in the little things • Rudyard Kipling