Daily Dharma

All suffering comes from the wish for your own
     happiness.
Perfect Buddhas are born from the thought to help
     others.
Therefore exchange your own happiness
For the suffering of others—
     This is the practice of Bodhisattvas.

[...from The Thirty-Seven Practices of Bodhisattvas an oral teaching by Geshe Sonam Rinchen, translated and edited by Ruth Sonam, pg. 42]

Does a Bodhisattva Have Legitimate Complaints?

I find myself struggling with a situation. I have all these issues going on at work and all of these strong feelings around what's going on. I've been in one tough situation after another. I haven't complained. I've buckled down and focused on the work. Things were improving, then all of a sudden things fell apart. There are reasons why things fell apart, and I know they didn't have anything to do with me.

But here's the dilemma. I find myself just stewing lately... marinating in resentment and bad feelings. I find myself standing in judgment of the people I feel are responsible. I blame the current situation on their decision making (or lack thereof). I blame the current situation on their unwillingness to act on behalf of the team... sacrificing the people they work with for the people they work for. In business, there is often this philosophy that the customer is always right. And while I believe that when you're in business you must satisfy your customer, that is not the only critical factor. If during the course of satisfying the customer you alienate and upset the employees, they leave and there is no one left to do the work. Then the customer is unsatisfied anyway.

Without delving into specifics, issues have been building up for a a while now. I bring it home with me. Thoughts about these issues are with me when I fall asleep... and they are with me when I wake up in the morning. They are with me when I sit on the cushion. They are with me when I'm cooking dinner. Some distractions provide temporary relief... watching a movie, reading a book, playing with my daughter. Some things I surrender to... I'm fully there while doing them. But the distraction comes to an end and I am left with my thoughts again. The more I think, the worse I feel.

"But, my complaints are legitimate," says an inner voice.

"Perhaps, but do they improve the situation," asks another.

A few days ago, I picked up a book and started skimming. It is called The Thirty-Seven Practices of Bodhisattvas. I couldn't even create the mental space to read the commentary, so I flipped through and read the thirty seven verses. Doing this created some space for some new thoughts to enter my mind. Thoughts about work have been punctuated with thoughts about the bodhisattva ideal.

I've read several books about this ideal. To me, they say the following:

• To the bodhisattva, everyone is blameless but himself. (Eat all blame).
• To the bodhisattva, suffering for the sake of others is a noble act. (Work for the benefit of others, even if you suffer in the process).

Then, my ego objects. Well, is it the ego? I don't know. But some part of me screams, "but if only s/he had done this or hadn't done that this wouldn't have happened." Some part of me screams, "this is not my fault, and it is crazy to continue to work in an environment where these things continue. It's almost masochistic. I am SO ready to quit my job."

So my question is this. If you are a dharma practitioner... If you take refuge in Buddha, Dharma and Sangha... If you are an aspiring bodhisattva... Do you ever have legitimate complaints? Are you ever justified in stepping outside the typical actions of a bodhisattva (eating all blame, working to benefit others even when it is difficult and comes at great personal cost)?

There is a voice inside me that is saying, "No on both counts."

There is another voice inside me that wants to yell at that voice.

Daily Dharma

We set goals that we think will guide us through the course of life. But we forget that our goals are not so much conscious choices as they are aggregates of our innate disposition, our particular conditioning, and ever-changing life circumstances. To think that we can will our destiny is a false prop, the vanity of needing to see ourselves as the agent of change.

[...from Saying Yes to Life (Even the Hard Parts) by Ezra Bayda, pg. 79]

Being Still

I have a friend who is constantly on the move. Saying hello and goodbye to her is accomplished in a cloud of activity while she spins in and out of a room, always heading for the next thing. We have nicknamed her Taz because she reminds us of that character from Loony Tunes... relentless perpetual motion.

I have another friend who is constantly looking for something (or someone) to do. I've known several people like this and have seen that the one activity that repulses them the most is sitting still, alone with their thoughts and emotions, even if it is just for five lousy minutes.

I don't stand in judgement. I've found it difficult to be still... to be with myself this past year.

"You have had a lot going on," a friend says.

But if this past year has taught me nothing, it has taught me that it is most important to carve out the time when we have the most going on. Perhaps that is why we feel overwhelmed, like we have nothing else to give... because we aren't giving back to ourselves... not even a little bit.

I ordered some summer reading materials for my daughter a couple of weeks ago. I think every elementary school student should read Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing. I also ordered a couple of new titles from her favorite author (she would read Dear Dumb Diary and Franny K. Stein exclusively if I didn't insist on some variety) and a new book from a new young adult fiction writer called Leepike Ridge. It provided an occasion to also get a couple of new reads for myself. One of the books I selected was a tiny green book by Ezra Bayda called Saying Yes to Life (Even the Hard Parts).

I'd discovered Bayda a few years ago while surfing online. I don't even remember what I was looking for at the time or how I stumbled upon his writings, but the teachings he offers through this site were very meaningful for me. They remain so to this day.

I started flipping through it this afternoon at work while waiting for my computer to shut down for the day. I expected another book of essays, but was pleasantly surprised to find that this book is just a collection of verses on numerous topics relevant to us all. I like this, because we don't really need an essay most of the time. One cogent point can snap us back to reality if we just let it.

An example:

Notice how often thinking and talking are detours from the painful work of being present to life. [pg. 83]

And another:

Believing you're a "good meditator" doesn't foster good meditation; it only bolsters another deluded self-image. [pg. 76]

I haven't been blogging much over the past year, mostly because I haven't engaged in much formal practice in the traditional sense. I haven't been sitting or prostrating or even studying much. I didn't have much to talk about... consumed by the whirlwind that was my daily life. Over this time, as my practice lagged, I thought myself a "bad buddhist," a "bad practitioner." Sometimes I felt that I dropped my practice completely and for a while I judged myself severely. Perhaps in reading this small passage I could stop and remind myself that thinking oneself a bad buddist is just as deluded as praising yourself for being an excellent meditator. On this path, there must be room for lapses, for outright mistakes. There is too much work to do to get caught up by somthing as insignificant as a tallied score.

In abandoning this score-keeping mind around my practice I've started to practice a little again. I'm not as fanatical with myself as I was previously about it... I don't make it mean anything if a day goes by and I don't DO something for the dharma. It feels like a fresh start... a new beginning.