Reflections on Dhamma
(Originally written on Wednesday, November 17, 1999)
1.
I was reading over Jack Kornfield's e-book on the eight fold path again--which you can get for free at Buddhanet.
I was looking once again at right speech, and moved to right action, which includes the notion Gandhi preached and practiced- Ahisma, or non harm. It is more to do with the actual killing or hurting of another life-form. There are some strange contradictions in this idea, and I just wonder how deep the idea of non harming extends. I want to excuse to all my ineptness and unskillfulness in talking out loud these ideas. This broaches a very serious human issue--one whose consequences could be offensive or harmful or just plain stupid. Please bear this in mind. Were I to have the gift of Solomon on this... alas. Perhaps it may just take someone to tell me to shut up. I would too, you know. Or for someone to guide me. I will listen and learn--even better. In lieu, here goes.
Ahisma- non-harm.
We will lance out at something that we see as a threat. That is a built-in sense of self-survival. We have a knee-jerk reaction to things we perceive as creepy, because we fear them and our desire for self-preservation and safety goes into auto pilot. It is folly, even the Buddha said, to be around savage beasts because of the danger to one's life. But he never said it was necessary to destroy the attacking body. That is Ahisma. Respect for life in its multitude of manifestations.
But the image of savage beasts, of creepy-crawly things, of things external, easily recognizable, from outside--makes it easier to practice Ahisma. These things exist outside. One's security, once one knows they are outside of oneself, is pretty easy then. Just avoid them. Close the door. When close to contact, flee.
But what about life forms that invade one's body? Where is Ahisma then? How do we practice Ahisma? It could be a cold virus. It could be something more heinous and life destroying. The body protects itself from such invasion with absolutely no mind necessary. We cannot tell our bodies to stop harming a savage microorganism. The body will produce antibodies to destroy these things. A battle ensues. There is no guarantee which side will win. There is a struggle for life in this case. The concept of Ahisma-- where is that located then?
I have no answers. Yet more stories. And somewhere in the stories is the wisdom and the faith in the Dhamma (the thruth, the way it is) to realize even my words are wrong thinking, wrong speech. But it is probably something you have thought of and have an answer for. And then again, maybe not.
I thought about Arjuna and Krishna on the battlefield the night before the battle in the classic Vedic tale of the Bhagavad Gita. Krishna appears before Arjuna and took up the young prince in his chariot to see who he was about to fight on the other side of the battlefield. Arjuna was overwhelmed to see the enemy were essentially the same men that were on his own side of the battlefield. There they were in the camps, huddled about fires, sullen faces, worried about the battle the next day, just as his own men were doing on his side of the battlefield. Arjuna had a pang of realization. "How absurd! What am I doing here? These men are the same as my own. How can I fight them. We are all the same. This is crazy!"
Now, you'd think this story would end in a nice way--where Arjuna saw the light, had an awakening, practiced Ahisma, and everyone lives happily ever after. Not so.
And this is the wonder, depth and mystery of life captured in this most sacred text: Krishna told Arjuna to stop thinking in such a way. It was Arjuna's duty as a warrior to fight. Even though he was given the wisdom to see things as they are, he was instructed to go back and prepare for battle. This is duty. He may not like it, but it is the Dhamma.
I liken this story to Milton's Paradise Lost, in particular the part of Lucifer's lack of respect for God. In the Gita, should Arjuna have disobeyed Krishna's command to follow the Dhamma, he would be breaking Dhamma, and the consequences for doing so would see him end up thrust in the karmic wheel of life-- of suffering, desire, ignorance, and so on. Doing one's duty with obedience, with no thought about what it is-- that is the Dhamma (?).
Milton's Lucifer, on the other hand, was filled with his own pride and knowledge he was the brightest angel God had created--"Lucifer" meaning the "bright one". When God asked him to go to earth to help mankind, Lucifer said no. He argued with God that his place was right next to Him, and that he felt no need to go and help mankind. He reasoned--why should he separate himself from the source, the Almighty by helping a creation lesser than he himself was? No, Lucifer did not want any part of that.
As punishment, God sent Lucifer out of heaven and said he could never set eyes upon Him again. With that, Lucifer left heaven, and took a few of his friends with him (the "Rebel Angels", who also suffered from excessive self-pride/hubris) to the opposite end of the universe (i.e., Hell). This is what you get for not obeying God/Dhamma, you know.
But it is really hard to understand Dhamma. On one hand right action, Ahisma, non harm, is a conscious effort. But on the other our bodies are prepared to fight for survival without any consciousness. Which one is the Dhamma? Ahisma, or battle?
One thing is critical to this thought process-- there is no winner or loser. If both forms of life are the same, then how can one side win and one side lose?
II
Anyway, what I really wanted to say is that this whole thing came up because there is an ant crawling around on my table. I cannot tell you the joy I feel having it as my companion!
(1,153 words in 1 hour, 20 minutes)
1.
I was reading over Jack Kornfield's e-book on the eight fold path again--which you can get for free at Buddhanet.
I was looking once again at right speech, and moved to right action, which includes the notion Gandhi preached and practiced- Ahisma, or non harm. It is more to do with the actual killing or hurting of another life-form. There are some strange contradictions in this idea, and I just wonder how deep the idea of non harming extends. I want to excuse to all my ineptness and unskillfulness in talking out loud these ideas. This broaches a very serious human issue--one whose consequences could be offensive or harmful or just plain stupid. Please bear this in mind. Were I to have the gift of Solomon on this... alas. Perhaps it may just take someone to tell me to shut up. I would too, you know. Or for someone to guide me. I will listen and learn--even better. In lieu, here goes.
Ahisma- non-harm.
We will lance out at something that we see as a threat. That is a built-in sense of self-survival. We have a knee-jerk reaction to things we perceive as creepy, because we fear them and our desire for self-preservation and safety goes into auto pilot. It is folly, even the Buddha said, to be around savage beasts because of the danger to one's life. But he never said it was necessary to destroy the attacking body. That is Ahisma. Respect for life in its multitude of manifestations.
But the image of savage beasts, of creepy-crawly things, of things external, easily recognizable, from outside--makes it easier to practice Ahisma. These things exist outside. One's security, once one knows they are outside of oneself, is pretty easy then. Just avoid them. Close the door. When close to contact, flee.
But what about life forms that invade one's body? Where is Ahisma then? How do we practice Ahisma? It could be a cold virus. It could be something more heinous and life destroying. The body protects itself from such invasion with absolutely no mind necessary. We cannot tell our bodies to stop harming a savage microorganism. The body will produce antibodies to destroy these things. A battle ensues. There is no guarantee which side will win. There is a struggle for life in this case. The concept of Ahisma-- where is that located then?
I have no answers. Yet more stories. And somewhere in the stories is the wisdom and the faith in the Dhamma (the thruth, the way it is) to realize even my words are wrong thinking, wrong speech. But it is probably something you have thought of and have an answer for. And then again, maybe not.
I thought about Arjuna and Krishna on the battlefield the night before the battle in the classic Vedic tale of the Bhagavad Gita. Krishna appears before Arjuna and took up the young prince in his chariot to see who he was about to fight on the other side of the battlefield. Arjuna was overwhelmed to see the enemy were essentially the same men that were on his own side of the battlefield. There they were in the camps, huddled about fires, sullen faces, worried about the battle the next day, just as his own men were doing on his side of the battlefield. Arjuna had a pang of realization. "How absurd! What am I doing here? These men are the same as my own. How can I fight them. We are all the same. This is crazy!"
Now, you'd think this story would end in a nice way--where Arjuna saw the light, had an awakening, practiced Ahisma, and everyone lives happily ever after. Not so.
And this is the wonder, depth and mystery of life captured in this most sacred text: Krishna told Arjuna to stop thinking in such a way. It was Arjuna's duty as a warrior to fight. Even though he was given the wisdom to see things as they are, he was instructed to go back and prepare for battle. This is duty. He may not like it, but it is the Dhamma.
I liken this story to Milton's Paradise Lost, in particular the part of Lucifer's lack of respect for God. In the Gita, should Arjuna have disobeyed Krishna's command to follow the Dhamma, he would be breaking Dhamma, and the consequences for doing so would see him end up thrust in the karmic wheel of life-- of suffering, desire, ignorance, and so on. Doing one's duty with obedience, with no thought about what it is-- that is the Dhamma (?).
Milton's Lucifer, on the other hand, was filled with his own pride and knowledge he was the brightest angel God had created--"Lucifer" meaning the "bright one". When God asked him to go to earth to help mankind, Lucifer said no. He argued with God that his place was right next to Him, and that he felt no need to go and help mankind. He reasoned--why should he separate himself from the source, the Almighty by helping a creation lesser than he himself was? No, Lucifer did not want any part of that.
As punishment, God sent Lucifer out of heaven and said he could never set eyes upon Him again. With that, Lucifer left heaven, and took a few of his friends with him (the "Rebel Angels", who also suffered from excessive self-pride/hubris) to the opposite end of the universe (i.e., Hell). This is what you get for not obeying God/Dhamma, you know.
But it is really hard to understand Dhamma. On one hand right action, Ahisma, non harm, is a conscious effort. But on the other our bodies are prepared to fight for survival without any consciousness. Which one is the Dhamma? Ahisma, or battle?
One thing is critical to this thought process-- there is no winner or loser. If both forms of life are the same, then how can one side win and one side lose?
II
Anyway, what I really wanted to say is that this whole thing came up because there is an ant crawling around on my table. I cannot tell you the joy I feel having it as my companion!
(1,153 words in 1 hour, 20 minutes)
posted by Gaga | 12:03 PM
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