Set a Place at Your Holiday Table for Mudita

Make Mudita

The Centerpiece of Your Holiday Table

And Your Life

Even though mudita, which is generally translated as sympathetic joy, is one of the four heavenly abodes, relatively little seems to have been written about it and it is rarely the topic of talks. When it is discussed, it is usually presented as "sympathetic joy at the good fortune or success of others," the most minor of the four abodes, and not much more.

But consider it from this wider dharmic point of view. Consider mudita as a prerequisite of lovingkindness (metta) and of compassion (karuna). Meaning that appreciation of others is one of the chief aspects of mudita.

Because we cannot appreciate another person without seeing the good in them, then how can we expect ourselves to experience joy at an incident of good fortune or success in their lives when we feel nothing for the other person, or even worse, dislike them? Mudita is the answer: it is the source for finding the good in others and learning to recognize and admire the wholesomeness that is always there, even and perhaps most importantly when those others seem to be making our lives difficult.

Unless one has the faith and confidence in mankind that the Buddha had, practicing lovingkindness and compassion is, I suspect, difficult if not impossible without the appreciation that arises from mudita, and from a solid practice of mudita. What the dharma is suggesting is that an appreciation for the goodness of others should flow within each of us, all the time. That’s what underlies a solid practice of mudita.

This would lead us to faith in mankind’s potential for good and to acceptance of our inherent worthwhileness.

What better practice could there be for the holiday season?

Follow the Rules

“Just follow the rules.” It’s that simple.

So perfect freedom is in—is under some rules. If there are no rules, there is no freedom. As long as you have rules you have freedom. Without being aware of the rules to try to obtain freedom means nothing. –Suzuki Roshi


There is no freedom without the law.
–Ancient Greek teaching Cecile B. DeMille put into the mouth of Moses on Mount Sinai

The first rule of Buddhism is follow the rules. The more profoundly we understand that rule, the less of anything else there is to know. The more stringently we follow that rule, the more clearly we see. The more we realize that rule, the more liberated we become.

There are implicit and explicit rules. Following them reduces our anxiety and clears the path for us. Implicit rules arise from conditions, are specific to the moment and ideally should be followed without thinking. Explicit rules are formally or informally codified. The challenge of explicit rules is that they are speculative rather than experiential, rigid rather than arising from current conditions. Nonetheless, they are rules and our obligation is to follow them.

Implicit rules look like this: When the alarm rings, the rule is to get up. When I take off my jacket, the rule is to hang it in the closet. If I use a credit card, the rule is that I be able to pay the balance when the bill arrives. If we want to rid ourselves of the constant anxiety we feel, we get up when it is time to get up–no snooze alarm and angst over arising, we need to put things away after we have used them–the way we taught our children to do, and we need to be financially responsible–we don’t need to spend more than we have.]

Explicit rules look like this: I don’t kill, steal, lie, abuse others or do drugs. I drive within the speed limit; I don’t fudge on my taxes; and I follow the company policies at work. [I follow the precepts and the laws and the policies and procedures.]

Our obligation as practitioners, an obligation that we see arising from meditation, is to learn ways to live in peace and harmony–with ourselves, our families, our friends, with all sentient beings, the planet and universe. Rules are what allows us to meet that obligation.

Rules restrain our minds, they give us order. They reduce our suffering and allow us to walk the path more stably and effectively. When that happens, our defilements and attachments lessen and we become more content, more confident and more peaceful, especially in the face of difficulties. Following the rules restrains our desires for sense stimulation and sense objects. As that craving and clinging for the things we see, hear, taste, touch, feel and think diminishes, we become calmer and more patient. Without rules, we would live in the constant dukkha of chaos.

Meditation helps us to see the rules clearly, contemplation and study help us to clarify the rules, and observing that we are calmer and happier when we follow the rules gives us faith to continue, especially when we disagree with a rule.

There can be no freedom without rules. Question is, why don’t we just follow the rules?

Journaling

Taking A Page from Jewish Journaling

Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav was a tzaddik, a Jewish saint, and thinker of profound importance to the beliefs and practices of his sect and faith. He was the great grandson of the Baal Shem Tov, the early nineteenth century mystical philosopher who founded the Hasidic tradition. A group of Nachman’s followers, known as the Guardians of Justice, developed a journaling practice to keep them solidly on their spiritual path. Each night, they would write the answers to six questions.

The first question was “Did you say the shema today?” The shema is the affirmation of the Jewish faith and the assertion that there is only one God. In Buddhism it would be like reciting the Three Pure Vows. The second question was “Did you study the Torah today? In Buddhism, this is equivalent to asking if you taken some time to consider the meaning of the Buddha’s words. The third question was “Did you practice tzedakah today?” Tsedakah is dana. The fourth question was “Did you dance today?” For the Hasidim, dancing and singing with one’s fellow practitioners was a celebration of the joy of spiritual practice. In Buddhism it is equivalent to practicing sympathetic joy. The fifth question: “Did you practice sichat chaverim today? That’s right speech. The final question was “Did you practice hitbodedut today?” Hitbodedut is time in solitude: meditation.

Reading about this reminded me emphatically of how all mystical traditions are fundamentally the same. What we commonly think are differences are the result of garb, emphasis and language, not content and realization.

For those who journal or who like to journal, consider establishing a journal that follows this Hasidic model. Each day, write answers to these six key questions. Tracking these will give you a good idea of how solidly you are walking your Path.

1.     Have I recited and practiced the Three Pure Vows today?

2.     Have I taken time to consider the implications of the words of the Buddha in my life today?

3.     Have I practiced dana today?

4.     Have I practiced sympathetic joy today?

5.     Have I practiced right speech today?

6.     Have I meditated today?

 (I have added a seventh question that I think strikes at the core Buddhist practice.)

7.     What have I done today to end my greed today?

Here’s a quick review of the five doctrinal practices in the questions:

The Pure Vows

These vows list the ideal, the intention and the commitment of a bodhisattva, a person following the path. Buddhists practicing in Mahayana institutions around the world recite these vows every day. They are the guiding principles of a practitioner’s life. These short vows tell us what we need to do in any situation–not to do harm and to be of benefit in the largest way. They are the criteria we look to when we need to make any decision–big or small.

I vow to do no harm.

I vow to do only good.

I vow to save all sentient beings.

Dana

What are we supposed to do to attain freedom from suffering, to reach the emptiness of emptiness, to walk stably on the middle path? Be generous says the Diamond Sutra. Generosity (dana) involves the gift, the giver and the receiver. Ideally, the giver should give simply because there is a need, with no expectation of personal gain, reward, or benefit; and the gift should be given without consideration of the receiver, with complete disregard for the recipient’s character or qualities. Finally, the gift can be material: it can be money or things, or it can be spiritual, meaning the gift of the dharma. Spiritual giving, giving the gift of the teachings, is considered the higher form of giving. Higher even, according to the Diamond Sutra, than giving one’s life for another. The final form of giving is the gift of no-fear, meaning what we say and do and think generates only peace of mind in others and the world.

Sympathetic Joy

Sympathetic joy is unconditional joy for the welfare of others. It is a pure feeling of happiness that arises in us as we see someone else who is happy, who is successful in moving forward with their lives and their chosen path. By rejoicing in others' progress, we are supporting them and at the same time establishing a wholesome mindstate in ourselves that is of benefit to us and to others as well. Sympathetic joy is a helper for us on our Path; from sympathetic joy arises contentment and wisdom.

Right Speech

Only speak when it will improve the silence

Here are the five elements of right speech:

1.     Only speak when conditions suggest you should speak

2.     Only speak when you have something to say that will be of benefit

3.     Always speak in ways that can be understood

4.     Only say it once

5.     Never go on the battlefield; being of benefit isn’t about winning

While wrong speech could be accurately and broadly described as anything we say that isn’t right speech, however there are four traditional elements to wrong speech we should be vigilant not to practice:

1.     Harsh, mean-spirited or angry words

2.     Falsehoods and slander

3.     Gossip and small talk,

4.     Belittling others to raise your own status

Greed

Pursuing what we define as desirable and avoiding what we define as undesirable leaves us in a perpetual state of needing more, forever unsatisfied and unhappy. With every attainment there arises a new affinity or new aversion–more we have to get or get rid of, more greed. Greed is fundamental to how our mind works; it is the model we use for evaluating ourselves and everything else. And it is very hard to see that it is a poison. Or to see that there is an alternative.

Save the Planet–I just don’t get it.

I never understood what it meant to Save the Planet. When I was in college, Save the Planet was on everyone’s lips. Save the Planet sounds good, and makes good bumper stickers and nice little buttons for backpacks and denim jackets, but fifty years after I first heard the phrase, it still doesn’t make any sense to me. I didn’t get it when I was shouting it at street rallies in the sixties. And I still don’t get it.

What exactly am I supposed to be saving? I thought the point of the dharma was that everything was impermanent. If that’s true, then Save the Planet is an oxymoron. What am I supposed to be making permanent, fixing and fixating on? The whole planet? And isn’t my wanting to fix it back to what it was, freeze it at some point in the past and make it unchanging, isn’t that just greed guised as good? And isn’t greed our nastiest and worst habit?

I live very near the lake in Chicago. It’s only a few minute walk to the edge of twenty percent of the world’s fresh water. Am I really doing anything to save the planet by not running the water when I shave, or by taking 90-second showers? I just don’t get it. I read that there’s a new ocean forming in Ethiopia. Am I supposed to do something to nurture it, or to fill in the rift and stop it?

While I don't get Save the Planet, I do get the Three Pure Vows, which I am committed to live by and which guide my life: Do no harm, Be of benefit, Save all sentient beings. That I get. That I do. And that is all I can do. That’s where my responsibility ends. For me Save the Planet doesn’t make any sense. It’s a greed-laden idea. It comes from speculative-mind. It’s wrong view. The Three Pure Vows, that’s right view.

Every time I hear myself utter the third vow, every time I set my intention to save all sentient beings, I remind myself that “all sentient beings” aren’t just living things. All sentient beings are everyone and everything–both animate and inanimate. All sentient beings are not only living beings, but also the trees and the forests, the rock and the mountains. In the wording of the Diamond Sutra, it’s everyone and everything …whether born from eggs, from the womb, from moisture, or spontaneously; whether they have form or do not have form; whether they have perceptions or do not have perceptions; or whether it cannot be said of them that they have perceptions or that they do not have perceptions.

While Save the Planet doesn’t tell me anything, the Three Pure Vows tell me everything. Those vows are telling me to do no harm to the people and things around me. Because our nature is to do, if I choose to do no harm and then do something, it will be of benefit. Where do I begin that practice? As one Zen teacher told me, “You start by taking care of the things on our doorstep.” The stuff on my doorstep, that I understand. That makes sense. That I can do.

Howso? By showing respect for everything I encounter. For living and sleeping and walking and driving and cleaning and everything else in ways that are respectful of those around me and of the environment. How do I approach that? By trying to do everything with awareness of the weight I am levying on those around me and on the things I am surrounded by; by being humble and modest in front of plants in my garden, my neighbors, friends, and family. When I conserve resources, I am doing no harm and being of benefit.

That’s what I do, that’s all I can do. That makes sense to me: Conserve Resources.

If Greed Worked, We'd All Be Happy By Now

The list of Hollywood movies in which greed is the central theme is virtually endless…from classics such as The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948) and Cat On A Hot Tin Roof (1958), to the coming soon Return of Gordon Gekko.

In The Simple Men we are told that there are only two things in life “desire and trouble; whenever there’s desire there’s trouble.” The Simple Men is a movie about just how far a simple man will go for four million dollars. Would you kill your brother? Similarly, in Goodfellas, Jimmy Conway is a bank robber who methodically kills off everyone who helped him with a five million dollar heist rather than giving them their share of the stolen money.

In Brian de Palma’s epic crime film, Scarface, we see greed run rampant on the sun-washed streets of Miami. In the Coen brothers Fargo, we see that embezzlement is never enough. In Wall Street, Oliver Stone’s classic about conspicuous consumption, the ruthless Gordon Gekko assures us that "Greed…is good. Greed is right. Greed works."

Superman’s Lex Luther may rank as the greediest of all. After buying up most of the land bordering California, Luther plans to blow California off the map, making his dessert real estate into luxury coastal property. And let’s not forget Ocean’s 11, the casino heist movie which made it to the screen twice–once with the rat pack in 1960 and then again in 2001 with Clooney heading the cast. And Ocean’s 12, and 13, and perhaps even a 14, but I’m becoming greedy.*

None of these movies, much as we watch them, much as we celebrate in them, gets to the heart of the matter–that we are all greedy, that each of us is fundamentally greedy from the get-go, greedy beyond anything Hollywood could imagine. Raising moral questions about greed, which a few of the sited movies do, can make amusing conversation as we leave the cinema, but it too misses the point. Why? Because our greed is so to-the-core that we don’t even realize we are greedy, greedy, greedy.

In the dharma, greed is the first of the three poisons. It is first and foremost the reason we do anything. The way our mind works, we always want more. It is our karma as a species. And what we notice during meditation is that everything we do stems from our greed. We only do things, after all, to get more of what we want, more of what we like, think we should have or should be, or inversely, to get less of the things we don’t want, and so forth.

This is greed, the driving passion of our lives. It is fundamental to how our mind works. It is the model we use for evaluating ourselves; it is the model we use for making decisions. In the movies, it is easy to se how greed poisons everything, not so in real life. In the movies it is easy to see that there are alternatives. Not so in real life.

For me in my practice, the questions isn’t “What would I do for four million dollars?” but rather “What will I do today to end my greed?”

Here’s a simple exercise for practicing with greed: Whenever you are in conflict, whenever you need to make a choice, tell yourself emphatically: It is not about me getting what I want.

*It should be noted that I was looking at movies chiefly characterized by material greed, but in fact, all movies, like literature, are based on conflict, and all conflict arises from greed. 

Perfecting Patience is Our Path

Anger–The Problem

To end anger, one of the three poisons, and perfect patience, the third of the six paramitas, we must first recognize that anger is always destructive for us, for those around us, and for the world, and that its antidote is the diligent practice of patience.

Anger and Meditation

What we learn from meditating, from sitting still and seeing our minds, is that all anger is a defilement–an emotion that hinders us from seeing clearly and making appropriate decisions. Anger is, without a doubt to a meditator, the one of the strongest and most destructive emotions. We also learn from simple observation that defiled behavior can only lead to more defiled behavior; being angry cannot make us peaceful, acting angrily does cannot make this a better world.

For Buddhists or anyone who practices mindfulness meditation, anger is anger, anger is always a defilement, an afflicted emotion, and there is no such thing as righteous anger. And, “anger management” is an oxymoron. It is not about “managing” our anger, meaning making better use of our anger, it is about eliminating anger.

Anger is one of the most common and destructive defilements, it afflicts our minds almost all the time, whether it is in its least weighty forms, as uneasiness or irritability, or in its full-blown forms, as rage/fury and combat.

Ending Anger

To reduce and ultimately eliminate anger, we need to understand it and to develop wisdom, patience, and discipline

·       We need to recognize anger and how and when it arises in our mind.

·       We need to understand that for anger to arise, we must concoct a story about some perceived injustice;

·       We must acknowledge how anger is always harmful, never beneficial, to both us and others and the world.

·       We need to see that patience is the antidote for anger, and

·       We need to understand the benefits of being patient in the face of difficulties.

·       We then need to apply practical methods in our daily life to reduce our anger and even to prevent it from arising at all.

This is called leading a disciplined life.

Patience–The Alternative

Patience, the practice of patient acceptance, is the antidote for faulty frustrated desires (greed, the I-wants and shoulda-hads) and unwanted occurrences (negative greed: the I-shouldn’ta gottens, shouldn’t bes). We need to make the perfection of patience an omnipresent practice; not just a fallback position to use in desperation when screaming fails to accomplish our goal.

Patience is a mind that is able to accept fully whatever occurs. It is much more than just gritting our teeth and putting up with things, that’s the tolerance/intolerance thing. Being patient means to welcome wholeheartedly whatever arises, having given up the idea that things should be other than what they are.

When patience is present in our mind it is impossible for anger to gain a foothold. As we know from the cushion, since we can only have one thought at a time, if there is patience there cannot be anger.

It is always possible to be patient; there is no situation so bad that it cannot be accepted patiently, with an open, accommodating, and peaceful heart.

We start training ourselves to be patient meditation, then we take it off the cushion and practice patience by learning to accept the small everyday difficulties and hardships that arise without complaint. Gradually our patient mindstate increases and we remain peaceful in the face of our imagined adversities.

·       If we practice the patience of voluntarily accepting suffering (which is all imagined and unreal), we can maintain a peaceful mind even when experiencing difficulties.

·       If we maintain this peaceful and positive state of mind through mindfulness, angry minds will have no opportunity to arise. (You’re always breathing, so you can always return to your breath, even when someone is screaming at you). On the other hand, if we allow ourselves to dwell in aversive thoughts there will be no way for us to prevent anger from arising.

·       By training our mind to look at frustrating situations in a more realistic manner, we can free ourselves from anger and a lot of other unnecessary mental suffering: If there is a way to remedy an unpleasant situation, what point is there in being angry? On the other hand, if it is completely impossible to remedy the situation there is also no reason to get upset either. This line of reasoning is very useful, for we can apply it when we feel ourselves just becoming angry and thereby move to patience.

Being patient doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t do something to improve the situation. If it is possible to remedy the situation, then of course we should; but to do this we do not need to become angry. Simple awareness will do. For example, when we have a headache take a pain reliever, but until the tablet takes effect just accept whatever discomfort there is with a calm and patient mind.

As long as we are alive, we cannot avoid unpleasant, difficult situations and a certain amount of physical discomfort, but by training our mind to look at frustrating, anger-producing situations in a more realistic manner, we can free ourselves from a lot of unnecessary suffering.

Instead of reacting blindly through the force of emotional habit (anger), we should examine the situation. We should not become angry just because things do not go our way. We must break that old habit of ours if we are to progress past anger and move meaningfully forward in our quest for peace and happiness.

In reality all of our problems are nothing more than a failure to accept things as they are–in which case it is patient acceptance, rather than attempting to change externals, that is the solution.

Lessening and managing the anger is not the point on which we practice. The point is to patiently accept things are they are and to let go of all our fabrications about how they oughta be/shoulda be.

Problems do not exist outside our mind, so when we stop seeing other people and things as problems they stop being problems. No anger.

Pluralism Misses The Point

Ideally speaking, religious pluralism would be a sense of intereligious harmony based on mutual understanding of other faiths. The problem with pluralism, however, is that it assumes we’re all on different spiritual paths. As long that is the basic assumption, there can never be harmony. As long as we see our path as different from theirs, we are saying that our path is right. And saying that our path is right makes theirs wrong. Because we process information dualistically, for ours to be right, theirs must be wrong.

If we can’t be right without them being wrong, religions pluralism is an oxymoron, like tolerance (which is really intolerance its nice-guy cloths).

I’m not suggesting that we hire Richard the Lion-Hearted to capture Jerusalem, again, or that we invade Constantinople. But it does seem to me that pluralism is the mildest form of distaste we can have for other religions–in order of intensity next would be tolerance; then intolerance; then amping up to the next level: hostility, and demonizing, and finally, yes, time to get King Richard back. Damn the infidels.

Pluralism is such a pc term right now that we miss the point when we use it. We miss the point because pluralism misses the point. We are already in harmony, because we are really the same.

The point, then, is not to see other religions as separate and different from ours, but rather to notice and understand that there is only one path and we are all on it together. When we realize this, the aversion is gone. And that’s the point. Not to have an aversion for beliefs that appear different from ours.

Here’s how I understand that there is only one path and that we are all walking it together.

My practice, both on and off the cushion, tells me that everything I do, and in fact everything that everyone does, is simply an attempt to end or prevent my suffering. Why do I scratch an itch? To end my suffering. Why do I always look down when I am walking on stairs? To prevent my suffering (I fear if I don’t look down that I will fall.). Why do I always clasp by hands together with the left fingers over the right. To prevent my suffering (reversing my clasp would make me uncomfortable). Taking this to its extreme: Why do people abuse children? To end their suffering. Perverse as it is, child abuse is an attempt to relieve the abuser’s suffering. And genocides, as horrific as they are, are an attempt to end the perpetrator’s suffering. Our choices aren’t always wise, but they are always for the same reason.

Since everything I do is to prevent or end my suffering, and everything everyone else does is to prevent or end their suffering as well, then compassion is my factory setting, my default position. Which explains that fundamentally, at our core, we are all compassionate beings.

I believe all religions answer four questions in an attempt to end our suffering: Where did I come from? How did I get here? What should I do while I am here? And, where am I going next? What differentiates one religion from another is simply which of these questions it emphasizes? Christianity, for example, arising from a Messianic tradition, largely addresses the Where-am-I-going-next question. Buddhism, on the other had, is almost exclusively concerned with the What-should-I-do-while-I’m-here question.

So what separates one religion from another is not differences, but simply emphasis. What differences do appear are in the languages and cultures and customs and costumes, which are purely cosmetic.

Why any one person is attracted to one religion and not another is simply the result of their karma. Our individual histories lead us to seek the benefit of one practice now, perhaps another later. So in fact, having a variety of different practices available to choose from makes it easier for us to walk the path together.

So we are all on the same path, the path to end our suffering. And we all share the same original nature, compassion. When I teach in a church or a mosque, I don't’ see it as different and needing to be reconciled, I see it as just another expression of our path.

I watched my Teacher, Master Ji Ru, enter the sanctuary in a Protestant church. He stopped at the doorway, gently stepped in and bowed to the altar. Just as he does every time he enters the meditation hall in our Monastery. And that’s the point. Not pluralism.