Growing up in a very loving, caring family, where loving-kindness, compassion and generosity were taught and practiced gives one a different perspective on many things. We were always taught that if we shared what we had with others, we would never do without. We were taught this in a particularly Christian context, but I have come to believe that it is built into the structure of the universe. I am certain that it is simple cause-and-effect, simple Karma.
I made the trip up here to Drikung Meditation Center Boston on a shoestring, trusting that I would not only be able to get here but also have what I needed once I was here. I was most fortunately helped to make the trip by very caring persons who also practiced generosity. Nevertheless, it seems almost everything costs more in Boston than in Florida, resulting in going through way more money than I thought I might.
In the Center's kitchen, while not all things are held in common, there is still much sharing. One of the “rules” of the kitchen is that if there is no name on something, it is available for anyone to eat. Some things are donated in support of the Center, while others are left by visitors, and still other things come as the produce of a community supported agriculture farm. When I have bought food items, I have felt that it would be inappropriate for me, as a monk, to mark it as “mine.” Thus I have found myself going through more than three loaves of bread in a week. At the same time I have eaten most of my meals from shared items or those which have been left behind by other visitors. Nevertheless, I found myself feeling anxiety when the third loaf of bread was finished.
Most fortunately, at this point I remembered both my lessons from childhood and the principles governing my new life as a monk. For all of my life I never saw a failure of what my grandmother and mother taught about sharing. As long as I shared openly and freely, my needs were always be met. Now, as a monk, I have to remember that in some other countries I would go on a daily alms round depending on that for my sustenance.
It seems that I can get just as attached to a false idea or concept as I can to a physical object. The illusory security of a full cupboard or pantry can be rigidly held. This is yet another attachment leading to suffering as much as any other. One may feel the need to protect it and fear the loss of it, both of which would be destructive to happiness.
I sit here with a place to stay and food to eat. I don't need to demand the guarantee of either of those for the future, because I don't even have a guarantee of a future in which to need them. In actual fact, there is still enough of everything for days which is quite enough that I should not worry. If I do worry, I am foolishly causing myself needless suffering.
However, isn't that precisely what we human beings are doing to ourselves all the time. Some suffering comes to us when others do us harm, but most of our suffering is of our own making. Indeed the “harm” that others may do to us is really the perception of events which may not actually be anything more than a nuisance if we looked at it honestly.
This brings us right back to the most fundamental truths of Buddhism, the Four Noble Truths:
To live means to suffer.
The origin of suffering is attachment to transient things and the ignorance thereof.
The cessation of suffering can be attained.
The path to the cessation of suffering is the Noble Eightfold Path.
Isn't it great that the Dharma is everywhere? Not only that, but our mothers and grandmothers taught it even without knowing the word “Dharma”?
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