Adage 12 of Master Sheng Yen's 108 Adages of Wisdom notes " Before you open your mouth to speak, think twice and chew your words carefully. The point is not to hold your peace, but to speak with discretion and prudence."
In this day and age, I begin to wonder, does Master Sheng Yen's words make sense? The idea is that prudence and discretion encourage a sense of restraint and wisdom. This isn't t say that one should be diplomatic all the time in order to "hold the peace" but it might mean something like being able to choose words in a way that promotes good heartedness. For example, rather than hinting that someone else is not behaving their best (or according to my own judgments and beliefs), perhaps I would do better to try to use words that promote harmony and build understanding between people. If my intention is only to create divisiveness, this will only cause suffering to all the parties in the long run. But if I am sincerely invested in helping all the parties sort out differences and truly understand one another, then I am promoting wisdom between people.
Actually, our culture values so-called "authenticity", which often translates to, "The first thing you say is often the most true thing to say." Is that correct, though? More often than not, one's first impression, thought or emotion is just that--an impression--and it can often reflect a prejudice of sorts rather than an authentic way of seeing things. Discretion is needed to sort the valuable from the dross, and simply saying what's on the top of one's head is no guarantee that it's either "true" or beneficial to others. To a certain extent, I reject this idea that somehow my first impressions are the "truest"form of myself.
http://www.dharmadrum.org/content/about/about2.aspx?sn=46
Wednesday, May 29, 2019
Sunday, May 26, 2019
Maintaining Relaxation and Smiling
"Maintain a relaxed body and mind, and meet and greet with a smile. Relaxation enhances physical and mental health, and a smiling face promotes friendship" -Master Sheng Yen, Adage 11 (108 Adages)
Years ago, there was a popular song called "Don't Worry, Be Happy", and I even remember buying the LP as a young teenager because I found the song to be quite amusing. The gist of the song is that worrying only makes one's life even more worrisome than it has to be--the logic being that actually worrying doesn't make one's challenges better or lighter. I don't think Master Sheng Yen would necessarily advise such a simplistic philosophy, especially since the kind of mundane happiness that this song promotes is not that popular in Buddhist sutras or stories. However, one can apply the principle that cultivating a light attitude toward daily challenges can go a ways toward mitigating stress.
This means that whatever burdens one might bear about a particular problem and its sources can be looked at in a variety of different ways. Instead of being stuck thinking that a problem is too difficult or even insoluble, why not be able to smile at it sometimes, or even adopt a friendly approach? In this way, the problem is less onerous, and there is room to find alternate approaches to being with that problem. After all, one never emerges from problematic relationships in existence and in life as a whole. As soon as I even find something that works well for me, I will suffer the problem of wanting it to stay that way forever or, worse still, becoming so acclimatized to it that I soon begin to stop paying attention to it altogether. So sometimes it is important to try to smile, not as a way of making "light" of a bad situation, but as a way of making it new and different to behold. I smile not because I am dismissing problematic things, but because I am welcoming those problematic things and the kinds of learning that can emerge when I am staying close to those problems.
Most importantly, perhaps, Master Sheng Yen alludes to the benefits of a relaxed body and mind, which I would assume is a requisite to smiling. Have you ever tried to smile while you were tense or agitated? Truly it doesn't work all that well, because one needs to almost take the perspective of "I will smile, whether it makes a difference or not..." That is a more relaxed approach that is not focused on a achieving a goal.
References
Master Sheng Yen, 108 Adages.http://www.dharmadrum.org/content/about/about2.aspx?sn=46
Years ago, there was a popular song called "Don't Worry, Be Happy", and I even remember buying the LP as a young teenager because I found the song to be quite amusing. The gist of the song is that worrying only makes one's life even more worrisome than it has to be--the logic being that actually worrying doesn't make one's challenges better or lighter. I don't think Master Sheng Yen would necessarily advise such a simplistic philosophy, especially since the kind of mundane happiness that this song promotes is not that popular in Buddhist sutras or stories. However, one can apply the principle that cultivating a light attitude toward daily challenges can go a ways toward mitigating stress.
This means that whatever burdens one might bear about a particular problem and its sources can be looked at in a variety of different ways. Instead of being stuck thinking that a problem is too difficult or even insoluble, why not be able to smile at it sometimes, or even adopt a friendly approach? In this way, the problem is less onerous, and there is room to find alternate approaches to being with that problem. After all, one never emerges from problematic relationships in existence and in life as a whole. As soon as I even find something that works well for me, I will suffer the problem of wanting it to stay that way forever or, worse still, becoming so acclimatized to it that I soon begin to stop paying attention to it altogether. So sometimes it is important to try to smile, not as a way of making "light" of a bad situation, but as a way of making it new and different to behold. I smile not because I am dismissing problematic things, but because I am welcoming those problematic things and the kinds of learning that can emerge when I am staying close to those problems.
Most importantly, perhaps, Master Sheng Yen alludes to the benefits of a relaxed body and mind, which I would assume is a requisite to smiling. Have you ever tried to smile while you were tense or agitated? Truly it doesn't work all that well, because one needs to almost take the perspective of "I will smile, whether it makes a difference or not..." That is a more relaxed approach that is not focused on a achieving a goal.
References
Master Sheng Yen, 108 Adages.http://www.dharmadrum.org/content/about/about2.aspx?sn=46
Thursday, May 23, 2019
Every day a new day
For those who can take things on and let them go in peace, every year is an auspicious year. For those who can sow with wisdom the seeds of blessings, every day is a good day.- Master Sheng Yen
This quote is a bit hard to unpack, so I think I will go in a different direction with it. I think that the quote is suggesting that the ability to let go as much as pick up makes for a life of ease. Why? I think of it like, every wave signifies the ups and downs of life: some days are going to be good, others not so good. If I am truly cognizant of the fact that there will be cycles and patterns of life, I will no longer try to attach an overarching meaning to the rhythms themselves. Perhaps the most apt analogy might be something like music or musical notes: clinging to one note means that one will lose the entire overarching melody or structure. When I am opening my heart to the whole song, I receive a much finer sense of how the notes work together to create a meaningful whole.
Under this way of looking at things, there is truly nothing to hope for, but also very little to despair about. Every day is simply a new day, and there will be both blessing and pain. If I am always attaching to certain kinds of wishes, then the simple wisdom of everyday is lost, and I overstretch myself. If I am choosing to be present with the joy and the pain alike, then I am not picking one over the other. I become submissive to the moment, and allow myself to soak it in without needing to embellish or even create something from the elements themselves.
References
Sheng Yen, 108 Adages, http://www.dharmadrum.org/content/about/about2.aspx?sn=46
This quote is a bit hard to unpack, so I think I will go in a different direction with it. I think that the quote is suggesting that the ability to let go as much as pick up makes for a life of ease. Why? I think of it like, every wave signifies the ups and downs of life: some days are going to be good, others not so good. If I am truly cognizant of the fact that there will be cycles and patterns of life, I will no longer try to attach an overarching meaning to the rhythms themselves. Perhaps the most apt analogy might be something like music or musical notes: clinging to one note means that one will lose the entire overarching melody or structure. When I am opening my heart to the whole song, I receive a much finer sense of how the notes work together to create a meaningful whole.
Under this way of looking at things, there is truly nothing to hope for, but also very little to despair about. Every day is simply a new day, and there will be both blessing and pain. If I am always attaching to certain kinds of wishes, then the simple wisdom of everyday is lost, and I overstretch myself. If I am choosing to be present with the joy and the pain alike, then I am not picking one over the other. I become submissive to the moment, and allow myself to soak it in without needing to embellish or even create something from the elements themselves.
References
Sheng Yen, 108 Adages, http://www.dharmadrum.org/content/about/about2.aspx?sn=46
Wednesday, May 15, 2019
Knowing the Ways of the World
"Know yourself and others, and the ways of the world, so as to have a peaceful body and mind. Recognize, cherish, and nurture your blessings, and seize every chance to be of service.'"- Master Sheng Yen, 108 Adages
What does it mean to "know the ways of the world"? How does "knowing oneself" relate to knowing the ways of the world? I have noticed that the more a person experiences life and its ups/downs, the more understanding they can be toward others. There are much fewer hard and true "rules", and people become more understanding of the complexities of others including their many sides and facets. It's only through an immersive experience of the complexity of interactions that one might get a glimpse into their own complexity and infinity. If I am always living a life shuttling back and forth between work and the shopping mall, there isn't much room to get a sense of what people suffer. In this way, it's always nice to be open to building new perspectives.
It makes sense that a peaceful body and mind comes from knowing self, others and ways of the world. But this is not to say that such a path does not have its trials and challenges. Actually, people on that path have more struggles to go through, but when they are determined to treat everything as a learning, then the journey becomes less burdensome. At that point, blessings can be seen in all those life experiences, in addition to the desire to give back in response to those blessings.
http://www.dharmadrum.org/content/about/about2.aspx?sn=46
What does it mean to "know the ways of the world"? How does "knowing oneself" relate to knowing the ways of the world? I have noticed that the more a person experiences life and its ups/downs, the more understanding they can be toward others. There are much fewer hard and true "rules", and people become more understanding of the complexities of others including their many sides and facets. It's only through an immersive experience of the complexity of interactions that one might get a glimpse into their own complexity and infinity. If I am always living a life shuttling back and forth between work and the shopping mall, there isn't much room to get a sense of what people suffer. In this way, it's always nice to be open to building new perspectives.
It makes sense that a peaceful body and mind comes from knowing self, others and ways of the world. But this is not to say that such a path does not have its trials and challenges. Actually, people on that path have more struggles to go through, but when they are determined to treat everything as a learning, then the journey becomes less burdensome. At that point, blessings can be seen in all those life experiences, in addition to the desire to give back in response to those blessings.
http://www.dharmadrum.org/content/about/about2.aspx?sn=46
Tuesday, May 14, 2019
taking on and letting go
Master Sheng Yen remarks in Adage 8, "8. To take on anything, one must first be able to let go. One is truly free who can take on and let go of anything in peace." Taking on something requires letting go. I think this means that in order to take on any responsibility, one needs to be fully present to that responsibility, without trying to achieve multiple things all at once. It means not having to get attached to any result (success or failure, for example) but learning instead to be happy with one's best efforts. Perhaps the "let go" part is related to letting go of self-attachment.
On my way home today, I reflected on how one of the big challenges I suffer from is having to always have definitive certainty about what I am doing. Being attached to "certainty', such as a certain outcome, for me seems to be the sign of my own attachment to the self that assumes some degree of control over things. I want the thing to go smoothly, but it's my attachment to certainty that leads to all kinds of doubts. This principle is true of anything: whatever one struggles to erase (such as doubt) actually ends up coming back in the form of getting attached to doubt, to the point where a person cannot bear even a moment of doubt.
Perhaps an antidote to all these quests for certainty is the realization that whatever I thought before no longer applies now. Conditions, states of being, thoughts, etc. are like water running through a stream. They continue to change, the same way that the world changes. If I let go of trying to make my experiences, obligations, and responsibilities so concrete, so "real" and so permanent, then I can have more of a mind of simply handling what is emerging in this moment. Then my mind is much more free to take on more challenges, without the anxious clinging to specific outcomes or gains.
References
Sheng Yen, 108 Adages. http://www.dharmadrum.org/content/about/about2.aspx?sn=46
On my way home today, I reflected on how one of the big challenges I suffer from is having to always have definitive certainty about what I am doing. Being attached to "certainty', such as a certain outcome, for me seems to be the sign of my own attachment to the self that assumes some degree of control over things. I want the thing to go smoothly, but it's my attachment to certainty that leads to all kinds of doubts. This principle is true of anything: whatever one struggles to erase (such as doubt) actually ends up coming back in the form of getting attached to doubt, to the point where a person cannot bear even a moment of doubt.
Perhaps an antidote to all these quests for certainty is the realization that whatever I thought before no longer applies now. Conditions, states of being, thoughts, etc. are like water running through a stream. They continue to change, the same way that the world changes. If I let go of trying to make my experiences, obligations, and responsibilities so concrete, so "real" and so permanent, then I can have more of a mind of simply handling what is emerging in this moment. Then my mind is much more free to take on more challenges, without the anxious clinging to specific outcomes or gains.
References
Sheng Yen, 108 Adages. http://www.dharmadrum.org/content/about/about2.aspx?sn=46
Monday, May 13, 2019
Big Heart and Small Ego
In Adage #7, Master Sheng Yen writes, "Cultivate a big heart--but a small ego." Many of Master Sheng Yen's adages seem to operate on dual concepts that appear to be opposites. But what's tricky is that sometimes a person can have a very big heart, but also a very big ego! One might encounter this in the form of a person who might have attained some kind of unification experience, and then comes to the conclusion that "everything, including the people and things around me, is just an extension of this big self". Such an attitude can be both positive and negative. In the latter case, the negative aspect arises when one imposes their views and sense of self onto others, thinking that "I" and "You" are really no different.
Perhaps having a big heart with a small ego means to give without expectations. It takes a lifetime (and perhaps many) to learn how to master this attitude. A person often gives their efforts to a particular thing because deep down they thought that this particular thing would give them the highest emotional payoff in return. But giving is not this way. It requires an accurate sense of the receiver and what her or his needs are, as well as a willingness to adjust one's perspectives when new information comes along the way. When the married couple finds out that their partner is "not the person I first met", the conclusion might be that the partner had deceived them into thinking that they were better than they were. But consider that conditions are changing all the time, and people develop new circumstances where they have to change and adapt. What I felt at one time might evolve at another time; this seems pretty normal to me. The trick is knowing that there wasn't really any deception to begin with, because the self is only a construct. It doesn't have a fixed or permanent nature, so naturally the people we know now aren't the people we "knew" before.
Giving, in this case, requires renouncing preconceptions based on past impressions of a person, as well as embracing the current need. I think it takes a lot of humility and courage to do this because it means giving up the belief that others are meant to fulfill the roles and ideas we had in our minds about them. In this way, giving is giving up the grasping ego and a heart of expectation.
http://www.dharmadrum.org/content/about/about2.aspx?sn=46
Perhaps having a big heart with a small ego means to give without expectations. It takes a lifetime (and perhaps many) to learn how to master this attitude. A person often gives their efforts to a particular thing because deep down they thought that this particular thing would give them the highest emotional payoff in return. But giving is not this way. It requires an accurate sense of the receiver and what her or his needs are, as well as a willingness to adjust one's perspectives when new information comes along the way. When the married couple finds out that their partner is "not the person I first met", the conclusion might be that the partner had deceived them into thinking that they were better than they were. But consider that conditions are changing all the time, and people develop new circumstances where they have to change and adapt. What I felt at one time might evolve at another time; this seems pretty normal to me. The trick is knowing that there wasn't really any deception to begin with, because the self is only a construct. It doesn't have a fixed or permanent nature, so naturally the people we know now aren't the people we "knew" before.
Giving, in this case, requires renouncing preconceptions based on past impressions of a person, as well as embracing the current need. I think it takes a lot of humility and courage to do this because it means giving up the belief that others are meant to fulfill the roles and ideas we had in our minds about them. In this way, giving is giving up the grasping ego and a heart of expectation.
http://www.dharmadrum.org/content/about/about2.aspx?sn=46
Saturday, May 11, 2019
Giving/Receiving
During the meditation practice today, I was reflecting back to the Friday evening Buddhist study group, where one of the participants had mentioned the practice of giving as asking "what can this person gain from me?" This is the opposite of saying "What can I do to help this person" because it starts with the other person and then proceeds to ask how that person can be benefited by me. I find this to be refreshingly different from thinking that giving comes from within the giver. It actually begins with the needs of the receiver, which need to be acknowledged and fully known before the giver can create an appropriate response.
Today's adage explores #6, "Those who give selflessly are blessed; those who do good deeds are happy." Giving selflessly, as I mentioned, is not easy, because what a person gives and claims as being good is often shaped by their previous conditioning. One often doesn't know what forms of giving are most appropriate to a situation, yet they continue to administer the gifts that they are most familiar with, such as specific kinds of advice or even agendas. The intention to give may be pure, but the giving itself has some self attached to it. That seems to be why giving selflessly, however elusive at times, is emphasized in Master Sheng Yen's remarks.
I liken this process to being a vending machine. In the movie Penguin Highway, the main character at one point is bullied by a group of kids and is tied to a vending machine, where he starts to pretend he is a "human vending machine" who simply relays requests. If a person functions in this way (or at least imagines such a crazy scenario) they might see giving as a more restrained process that is based on one's capacities as well as the other's wishes. If I am "sold out" of one thing (such as time or resources), maybe I can suggest another gift that I have to share. Conversely, a vending machine doesn't choose on behalf of the receiver, but, instead, offers a range of choices and then responds to the receivers' requests. This is actually quite different from what people actually do, which is to try to give what they don't have (exhausting themselves or exceeding their capacities) or try to give what the receiver didn't even request! Well, giving and receiving are pretty sloppy procedures after all, but perhaps a funny analogy might work to change how these might be framed and or look like.
http://www.dharmadrum.org/content/about/about2.aspx?sn=46
Today's adage explores #6, "Those who give selflessly are blessed; those who do good deeds are happy." Giving selflessly, as I mentioned, is not easy, because what a person gives and claims as being good is often shaped by their previous conditioning. One often doesn't know what forms of giving are most appropriate to a situation, yet they continue to administer the gifts that they are most familiar with, such as specific kinds of advice or even agendas. The intention to give may be pure, but the giving itself has some self attached to it. That seems to be why giving selflessly, however elusive at times, is emphasized in Master Sheng Yen's remarks.
I liken this process to being a vending machine. In the movie Penguin Highway, the main character at one point is bullied by a group of kids and is tied to a vending machine, where he starts to pretend he is a "human vending machine" who simply relays requests. If a person functions in this way (or at least imagines such a crazy scenario) they might see giving as a more restrained process that is based on one's capacities as well as the other's wishes. If I am "sold out" of one thing (such as time or resources), maybe I can suggest another gift that I have to share. Conversely, a vending machine doesn't choose on behalf of the receiver, but, instead, offers a range of choices and then responds to the receivers' requests. This is actually quite different from what people actually do, which is to try to give what they don't have (exhausting themselves or exceeding their capacities) or try to give what the receiver didn't even request! Well, giving and receiving are pretty sloppy procedures after all, but perhaps a funny analogy might work to change how these might be framed and or look like.
http://www.dharmadrum.org/content/about/about2.aspx?sn=46
Friday, May 10, 2019
The Busy...
In Adage 4, Master Sheng Yen remarks, "The busy make the most of time; the diligent enjoy the best of health." What does that mean, I wonder? I think that being busy has often been berated in recent years, and I recall that Master Sheng Yen once talked about Bertrand Russell's essay "In Praise of Idleness" as being written when people were way too busy rebuilding after the second World War. These days, people hardly praise idleness, and the point is that people tend to find their deepest insights when they are engaged with something that is interconnecting. "Being busy" could be framed as a kind of being connected, and it might be seen as making the most of one's time.
However, doesn't being too busy affect one's health? I think this has been a kind of assumption in a lot of accounts of medicine, but I don't think that having a busy body is the culprit. Having a mind that is busy with vexations may be more responsible for the ills of the world. Hypertension, for example, is not necessarily caused by having "too much to do" but may be attributed to one's attitude. If one is stressing about work, then even the slightest bit of work will seem like a big mountain of work. On the other hand, when a "big pile" of work is approached in a positive way or with gusto, it can actually seem like an enjoyable past-time or hobby. So what this adage points to is that work can invigorate the body and mind if one approaches it in a certain way and from a perspective of uplifting character rather than dampening one's spirits.
But when being "busy", there are other elements to keep in mind. First is that one should learn to stay with one activity at a time rather than jumping to something else or endlessly distracting the mind. The second is the importance of not treating one's work as a results-only benefit. The work itself is already beneficial when it engages the body and mind in creation. The third aspect is about dedicating the work to other sentient beings and recognizing how people are unified to achieve otherwise impossible goals through work itself.
References
http://www.dharmadrum.org/content/about/about2.aspx?sn=46
However, doesn't being too busy affect one's health? I think this has been a kind of assumption in a lot of accounts of medicine, but I don't think that having a busy body is the culprit. Having a mind that is busy with vexations may be more responsible for the ills of the world. Hypertension, for example, is not necessarily caused by having "too much to do" but may be attributed to one's attitude. If one is stressing about work, then even the slightest bit of work will seem like a big mountain of work. On the other hand, when a "big pile" of work is approached in a positive way or with gusto, it can actually seem like an enjoyable past-time or hobby. So what this adage points to is that work can invigorate the body and mind if one approaches it in a certain way and from a perspective of uplifting character rather than dampening one's spirits.
But when being "busy", there are other elements to keep in mind. First is that one should learn to stay with one activity at a time rather than jumping to something else or endlessly distracting the mind. The second is the importance of not treating one's work as a results-only benefit. The work itself is already beneficial when it engages the body and mind in creation. The third aspect is about dedicating the work to other sentient beings and recognizing how people are unified to achieve otherwise impossible goals through work itself.
References
http://www.dharmadrum.org/content/about/about2.aspx?sn=46
Wednesday, May 8, 2019
Non-Calculating Devotion
Master Sheng Yen's third adage is, "Devote wholehearted effort without calculating who does or gains more." Now I continue this conversation by asking, what is the opposite of this kind of whole hearted devotion? Sometimes, I can easily get into the habit of comparing what I do and how much I do, to co-workers, thinking that I am more valued by the company if I do more. In fact, everyone has something important to contribute that can never be quantified. It is a kind of soul force, perhaps, that is unique to everyone, although the soul is not something one would find being discussed in Buddhist teachings.
The philosopher Gabriel Marcel has argued that one thing society is losing recently is the ability to see oneself as part of a fraternity (and/or sorority) under God (Marcel, p.39). This means: we forget that we are created in a way that we are indispensable. Instead, modern corporations and bureaucracies tend to position people and their skills as somewhat disposable. I start to think of myself not as a unique being, but as little more than a series of forces or powers that work for certain machinery to drive an economic impulse. Needless to say, this is a rather dehumanized account of things.
On the other hand, doing a devoted effort is to almost abandon the notion of gain or loss, in a definite spirit of devotion. When I do something with devotion, I might care for it the same way that a mother cares for her child: very exacting, detailed and mindful. Has anyone ever done this at work--take a particular task and devote a motherly care to it, as though it were one's child? I would consider doing it, as a way of cultivating peacefulness in the present moment as well as a selfless attitude toward my work.
References
Marcel, Gabriel (1960). Mystery of Being 1. Reflection and Mystery. Chicago: Gateway
Sheng Yen. 108 Adages: http://www.dharmadrum.org/content/about/about2.aspx?sn=46
The philosopher Gabriel Marcel has argued that one thing society is losing recently is the ability to see oneself as part of a fraternity (and/or sorority) under God (Marcel, p.39). This means: we forget that we are created in a way that we are indispensable. Instead, modern corporations and bureaucracies tend to position people and their skills as somewhat disposable. I start to think of myself not as a unique being, but as little more than a series of forces or powers that work for certain machinery to drive an economic impulse. Needless to say, this is a rather dehumanized account of things.
On the other hand, doing a devoted effort is to almost abandon the notion of gain or loss, in a definite spirit of devotion. When I do something with devotion, I might care for it the same way that a mother cares for her child: very exacting, detailed and mindful. Has anyone ever done this at work--take a particular task and devote a motherly care to it, as though it were one's child? I would consider doing it, as a way of cultivating peacefulness in the present moment as well as a selfless attitude toward my work.
References
Marcel, Gabriel (1960). Mystery of Being 1. Reflection and Mystery. Chicago: Gateway
Sheng Yen. 108 Adages: http://www.dharmadrum.org/content/about/about2.aspx?sn=46
Tuesday, May 7, 2019
Repaying Kindness
I am reading Master Sheng Yen's second adage: "To be grateful and repay kindness—this is first; to benefit others is to benefit ourselves."
Why would Master Sheng Yen remark "this is first"? I always thought this part was a bit confusing, until I am now able to see the second part, which is the obverse of the first. What is secondary to benefiting others is, thus, benefiting oneself.
The way I best relate to this quotation or saying is that when a person volunteers their efforts, they might become so absorbed in the process that they don't see their interests as separate or different from the whole. Sometimes, one's sense of being unified with others, whether in a shared meditative practice or a volunteer coordination, is so great that there is hardly any recognizable "me" as distinct from "you". During these moments, it's simply unnecessary for me to assert my own interests, special abilities, identity, and so on, because my happiness is part of a harmonizing totality. Here, I might be making a rather sweeping conclusion, but I have often experienced such a oneness when I was volunteering with DDM. Certainly not all the time did this happen, but enough times for me to feel that there is no need to assert the self when performing in a group, especially when the goal is shared and something not related to personal gain.
This second adage definitely connects to the one before it ("Our needs are few; our wants are many") in the sense that it reinforces how there are not that many needs that are personal. When I am not focused on meeting what I believe to be my needs (but are actually wants or comforts), I can start to dissolve all these inner demands and be more harmonious with my environment. I believe this is where spiritual environmentalism is such a crucial part of the 108 adages.
References:
Sheng Yen, 108 Adages: http://www.dharmadrum.org/content/about/about2.aspx?sn=46
Why would Master Sheng Yen remark "this is first"? I always thought this part was a bit confusing, until I am now able to see the second part, which is the obverse of the first. What is secondary to benefiting others is, thus, benefiting oneself.
The way I best relate to this quotation or saying is that when a person volunteers their efforts, they might become so absorbed in the process that they don't see their interests as separate or different from the whole. Sometimes, one's sense of being unified with others, whether in a shared meditative practice or a volunteer coordination, is so great that there is hardly any recognizable "me" as distinct from "you". During these moments, it's simply unnecessary for me to assert my own interests, special abilities, identity, and so on, because my happiness is part of a harmonizing totality. Here, I might be making a rather sweeping conclusion, but I have often experienced such a oneness when I was volunteering with DDM. Certainly not all the time did this happen, but enough times for me to feel that there is no need to assert the self when performing in a group, especially when the goal is shared and something not related to personal gain.
This second adage definitely connects to the one before it ("Our needs are few; our wants are many") in the sense that it reinforces how there are not that many needs that are personal. When I am not focused on meeting what I believe to be my needs (but are actually wants or comforts), I can start to dissolve all these inner demands and be more harmonious with my environment. I believe this is where spiritual environmentalism is such a crucial part of the 108 adages.
References:
Sheng Yen, 108 Adages: http://www.dharmadrum.org/content/about/about2.aspx?sn=46
Monday, May 6, 2019
Wants and Needs
I have a little pocket book in my bag which outlines Master Sheng Yen's 108 Adages. I would like to refresh my blog a bit and write about some of the adages and how they have touched me in some ways.
The first adage is "Our Needs Are Few; Our Wants Are Many". While reading this adage, I was reflecting on how the scattered mind is usually fueled by many wants. Thoughts themselves are a little bit like many-shaped clouds: if I keep trying to catch one, then followed by another and then another, then my mind is not stable and grounded enough to know what is really needed. This is the cause for a lot of needless suffering I have created and inflicted upon others. Cultivating a stillness practice is needed to still a lot of those wandering and scattered thoughts.
What would a life with "few" wants really be like? Let me qualify this by suggesting that from a Mahayana point of view, it's probably not about becoming like a rock and doing nothing. To the contrary, having few wants would mean being open enough to accommodate many more situations than is conceivable only on the basis of a few select wants. For example, if I walk into a gathering and I am only focused on figuring out what happened to so-and-so, I will completely ignore the other elements of the surroundings and miss the opportunity to know different people and even to observe the surroundings as a whole. In this way, my fixation to one or two things limits what is possible for me to reach out to.
On the other hand, being rooted in a few simple needs is the second part of this equation. It means not getting clouded or confused about what is a "need" and what is only a "want". How to distinguish these? Quite simply, needs are the things I need to continue to benefit other sentient beings. Wants, on the other hand, are thoughts of my own personal pleasure and fulfillment. When I am meeting my needs, I have this open space to meet the needs and even wants of others. Then I am able to practice compassion on some level.
The first adage is "Our Needs Are Few; Our Wants Are Many". While reading this adage, I was reflecting on how the scattered mind is usually fueled by many wants. Thoughts themselves are a little bit like many-shaped clouds: if I keep trying to catch one, then followed by another and then another, then my mind is not stable and grounded enough to know what is really needed. This is the cause for a lot of needless suffering I have created and inflicted upon others. Cultivating a stillness practice is needed to still a lot of those wandering and scattered thoughts.
What would a life with "few" wants really be like? Let me qualify this by suggesting that from a Mahayana point of view, it's probably not about becoming like a rock and doing nothing. To the contrary, having few wants would mean being open enough to accommodate many more situations than is conceivable only on the basis of a few select wants. For example, if I walk into a gathering and I am only focused on figuring out what happened to so-and-so, I will completely ignore the other elements of the surroundings and miss the opportunity to know different people and even to observe the surroundings as a whole. In this way, my fixation to one or two things limits what is possible for me to reach out to.
On the other hand, being rooted in a few simple needs is the second part of this equation. It means not getting clouded or confused about what is a "need" and what is only a "want". How to distinguish these? Quite simply, needs are the things I need to continue to benefit other sentient beings. Wants, on the other hand, are thoughts of my own personal pleasure and fulfillment. When I am meeting my needs, I have this open space to meet the needs and even wants of others. Then I am able to practice compassion on some level.
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