32 Food For Thought: Ten of Life's Common Concerns

Cause begets effect. How much wealth we have depends on a combination of how hard we work and our past karma. Wealth is not something that is bestowed by the gods. It is the fruit of past generosity. While alms giving is the seed of wealth, hard work is the condition that nurtures the seed to fruition. We cannot change the past, but we can definitely change the future by our present actions.

The amount of money that one has does not determine one’s happiness. True, the rich may not have to worry about where the next meal is coming from, but they can be burdened by social engagements and wearied judging others’ ulterior motives. The poor are not troubled by such problems. As long as they have their dignity and self-esteem, they can stand tall and be proud. In the phenomenal world, everything is subject to impermanence. Wealth and poverty are no exceptions. Wealth can disappear, and people can go from rags to riches. Wealth cannot solve all problems, and our happiness is dependent more on how we feel about ourselves than how much money we have in our bank accounts.

The Buddha shows us by example how we should look at our wealth. He was just as happy with a simple robe as he was with a royal garment. He enjoyed the food that he collected from his alms rounds as much as the food that was offered to him when he was the guest of honor. He could sleep under a tree and yet was equally at ease in a royal palace. Sometimes he lived in solitude, and at other times he lived in the company of his followers and bhiksus. The Buddha was always at ease with his circumstances. The distinctions of rich and poor, coarse and fine, or fame and rejection had no bearing on his inner peace.

The great contemporary monk, Hung-yi, also led a life of equanimity. He never complained about anything. He lived a simple life of little want and great contentment. Whether it is a worn-out handkerchief, a simple plate of pickled vegetable, or a spartan bed, he was equally appreciative. Most of us look at a life of subsistence as a burden, but Hung-yi truly enjoyed what he had. One day, the famous scholar Hsia Mien-tsun visited him while he was finishing his lunch of rice and pickled vegetables. The venerable showed such delight that Hsia Mien-tsun exclaimed, “Only someone wise like the venerable can truly relish such simplicity.”

I want to share with you this parable. Once there was a wealthy businessman who lived in a penthouse with a breath-taking view of the city. He had a childhood friend who was poor but happy. This friend had a loving wife who adored him and greatly appreciated his hard work to provide for the family. The tycoon was a successful business man and had to spend many evenings away from home socializing and finalizing business deals. He was quite enviable of his friend’s simple lifestyle and thought to himself, “What is the point of having all this money if I cannot enjoy it? My friend may be poor, but he is having a grand old time with his wife. Sometimes I wish my life could be more like his.”

One day, someone told him, “If you want to be more like your friend, just give some of your money to him.” He was tickled with the suggestion and decided to give his poor friend two hundred thousand dollars, a small fraction of what he had. The poor couple was ecstatic. They thought the money was the best thing that could happen to them. When night fell, they began to worry about how to safeguard their newfound wealth. Should they put it in the drawer? Someone might steal it. How about under the mattress? That did not sound like such a good hiding place. Worried about their fortune, they hardly got a wink of sleep that night. After a few days, they began to argue how to best use the money. The wife wanted to do one thing, while the husband wanted to do something different. Their fights almost destroyed their marriage. Upon reflection, they realized that all their problems started when they were given the money. They decided to return the money to their tycoon friend instead.

This is, of course, a parable, but there is a valuable lesson here. Money can solve many problems, but it can also create many new ones. One of Confucius’ students, Yen Hwei, was said to have lived a life consisting of “a bowl of rice, a gourdful of drink, and an abode on a humble lane. Many could not tolerate such subsistence, yet Hwei would not change his life of joy a bit.” One of the Buddha’s disciples, Mahakasyapa, practiced a life of poverty and often spent his nights by tombstones without much of a thought. It is one thing to be poor in a monetary sense, it is quite another to be lacking spiritually. The store of treasure within our hearts and minds is inexhaustible, and it is up to us to mine this internal wealth. If we know how to apply the treasure within, we are wealthy in the truest sense of the word.

Throughout our lives, we are continually faced with gain and loss. When we win an argument, we feel invincible. When we face setbacks in our careers, we feel dejected and miserable. In every situation, there are many factors that are outside our control, and things do not always turn out to our satisfaction. In a certain way, life is like a see-saw that goes up and down. While it is easy to say that we should not be carried away in times of triumph or become overwhelmed in times of defeat, there are few of us who can truly live accordingly.

The Sixth Patriarch of the Ch’an school of Buddhism once said, “When there is no particular dharma[1] to be attained, then myriad dharmas are possible.” If you reflect upon the ups and downs in your career, are they really as critical as you had once thought? Our life spans no many than a handful of decades. What do we really gain? What have we really lost? Fame and fortune are as permanent as a midnight dream or an autumn frost. It is often said, “We came into this world empty-handed, and we will leave empty-handed.” If we can look beyond the here and now, we may wonder what is the purpose of all the gains and losses. Regarding life’s gain or loss, the Heart Sutra says it well:

When we can move beyond the sense data of form, sound, smell, taste, touch, and dharma, then we can see into emptiness and realize there is nothing to be attained. We often measure ourselves in tangible terms, but what we call success—fame, wealth, or beauty—are hardly absolute. These so-called successes are only pertinent when placed in context. It is only when we see the world in dualities that we experience gain or loss. In the world of emptiness, there is no gain or loss to be had. When we understand this, we are better equipped to deal with the ups and downs of life.

Looking at the world in terms of dualities is an over-simplification. There is no phenomenon that is absolutely good or bad. Let me give you a personal example. I really enjoyed listening to monastic chanting when I was a young child. So when I joined the monastic order, I was quite disappointed to find out that I did not have the natural ability to chant. Chanting was a very important part of monastic duties then. Many of my peers were given special recognition because of their chanting ability. I felt I was not living up to the requirements of being a monk. Upon further reflection, I became convinced that there were other ways I could contribute. I could help others through my writing. I began to write articles and publish books. The proceeds from my work helped me buy the land upon which Fo Guang Shan now stands. As long as we apply ourselves, we need not judge our strengths and weaknesses as good or bad.

If we understand emptiness, we also understand the law of conditionality. All phenomena manifest because of causes and conditions. Take the example of good fortune. Good fortune is the effect from the cause of alms giving and compassion. Just as easily as good fortune can knock on our door, it can also disappear when the right causes and conditions cease to exist. If we understand the teachings of emptiness and conditionality, we will take the coming and going of good fortune in a less personal manner. Only when we think that good fortune is due to us do we become attached to it and suffer unnecessarily. The same is true of sickness, old age, and death. When we ground ourselves in emptiness and conditionality, we will not be swayed by our circumstances.

When I talk to retired military men, I often feel a sense of conflict in them. Some of them have said to me, “When I was in the military, I killed my enemies without mercy. Now when I think back on what I have done, I wish things had been different.” We are only human, and we are bound to make mistakes. The important thing is to be repentant of our mistakes. There is a Buddhist saying that captures the power of repentance well, “Lay down the slaying knife; immediately become a buddha.”

Through repentance we are “washed clean” of our mistakes. When our clothes are dirty, we wash them to get rid of the dirt. When our bodies are filthy, a bath helps us feel clean again. When children do something wrong, we want them to be honest with their mistakes and make amends. Likewise, when we make mistakes, we have to be remorseful. This following gatha is often recited in repentance services to help us repent our wrongs:

In this age of laying blame, we like to think of our mistakes as the result of irresistible temptations, moments of mental weakness, the effect of growing up in a dysfunctional family, or the demands of making ends meet. The Buddha teaches us that our unwholesome karma is the result of greed, hatred, and delusion from time without beginning. Being born in this day and age does not help either. Modern life is so hectic that civility is a rare commodity. Many people have a short fuse, and obscenity is on the rise. [When television shows have names like “Greed,” it is no wonder that ethics and morality are not high on people's agenda.]

What is repentance? How should we repent? The sutras give us some guidelines. First, we have to be honest about our mistakes and be determined not to repeat them. It is not enough to admit our wrongs privately; we need to openly confess to the Buddha or someone who can guide us. We should also be willing to accept the consequences of our actions. Second, we should sincerely ask the buddhas and bodhisattvas for strength so that we do not make the same mistakes again. Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva exudes compassion and helps those who repent their unwholesome karma. The Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva Sutra[2] says, “When someone bound and shackled, regardless of their guilt or innocence, recites the name of Avalokitesvara, the shackles will break open. He will become free.” A field that is not cultivated will not yield a harvest. If the field is then tilled and fertilized, crops will grow and weeds will not take root. In a similar way, someone who is mindful of the buddhas and bodhisattvas will be able to forestall the conditions for the ripening of unwholesome karma.

Amitabha Buddha provides us with an expedient means to be reborn in his pure land even though we may be burdened with karma. Through the compassion of Amitabha, which acts like a large vessel, we are ferried to the other shore. This is analogous to how a boulder, which on its own will sink to the bottom of the sea, can be easily ferried across if put on a ship. When we die, we will not be able to take anything with us, that is except our karma. Only if we are mindful of Amitabha can we delay the effect of our unwholesome karma and reach the other shore.

On one level of understanding, our unwholesome karma is created by our body, speech, and thought. If we investigate this a bit further, we come to see that even unwholesome karma is empty without a self-nature. In repentance, we see into the emptiness of unwholesome karma, and the original lustre of our pure nature is restored. The sutras say:

As we can see from this stanza, repentance here has a different dimension than the normal use of the word. Repentance is more than feeling sorry for what we have done. Repentance also involves clarifying deluded thought. When we see the emptiness of our delusion, we also see the emptiness of unwholesome karma. In so doing, we see things as they truly are. Hell is “recognized[3]” as heaven, affliction is recognized as bodhi, defilement is recognized as purity, and our world is recognized as a pure land.

In addition to repentance, we also have to vow to do good. The four universal vows are like signposts to a pure land:

We all have our share of headaches and heartaches. Physically, we all have to face aging, sickness, and death. Mentally, we have to deal with problems arising from greed, hatred, and delusion. The Chinese have a saying which aptly describes our predicament, “Heaven and hell sometimes end; the threads of sorrow continue forever.” Our affliction is as deep as the dark, blue sea and is as dense as the trees in the wild. Our affliction is also the driving force that propels us from one rebirth to another.

Our afflictions, however numerous and varied, all stem from one cause—the attachment to self. Because of this attachment, we look at the world from a singular viewpoint and create many problems for ourselves in the process. The three poisons of greed, hatred, and delusion all originate from this attachment. To root out all our headaches and heartaches, we have to do so at the source. In other words, we have to sever the attachment to self and break loose from the grip of the three poisons. Wang Yang-ming, a famous Confucian scholar of the Ming dynasty, once said, “To catch the bandit in the hills is easy, to arrest the thief in ourselves is tough.” Fortunately, the Buddha teaches us what we should do. “Work diligently on discipline, meditative concentration, and wisdom; extinguish the fires of greed, hatred, and delusion.” Because of our attachment to self from time without beginning, we have developed a deep-rooted habit to focus on ourselves. The discipline of observing the precepts helps us refrain from violating others’ rights. It is a good counter-measure against greed. Meditative concentration helps us stay centered when facing hostility. Staying calm can also help us carefully assess a difficult situation and make the right decision. Meditative concentration breeds wisdom so that we can see through our delusion. The wisdom we speak of here is transcendental wisdom and is not the same as worldly knowledge. The wisdom here is the understanding of emptiness and the law of conditionality. Wisdom guides our actions so that we do not end up habitually reacting to our emotions.

Many of us have heard of the saying, “Do no evil, speak no evil, and hear no evil.” This is a good start. When we are vigilant of the three doors of karma[4], we are removing the conditions for the three poisons to grow. Our senses can be very troublesome things. Because of our sensory discriminations, we develop preferences and aversions, many of them quite arbitrary and meaningless. Instead of looking for affirmation of who we are from outside of ourselves, we should look within ourselves. In this way, we see that a lot of our sorrows are quite self-inflicted and unnecessary.

My maternal grandmother was a very religious woman. She began her life-long vegetarian practice when she was seventeen, the same time she began her practice of reciting Amitabha’s name. She was a very compassionate woman and had a lot of influence on me joining the Sangha. She had three sons with families of their own, but unfortunately all their children died very young around three or four years of age. My grandmother was never bitter about the misfortune, and not because she did not feel the loss. She was a Buddhist in the truest sense of the word. She realized that when there is birth, there is also death, and we reap what we sow. The birth of her grandchildren was the culmination of causes and conditions; their departure, too, was the result of conditionality. The human life span is not that long to begin with, and we should not excessively grieve over the loss of our loved ones. Many of us choose to believe in the law of conditionality when things are going well for us but would question its validity when tragedy strikes. My grandmother truly knew how to put sorrows into perspective. She was an inspiration to me in my own handling of headaches and heartaches.

In this day and age of cell phones and beepers, we often see people talking on the cell phone while walking. Life is so jam packed with deadlines and schedules that every second counts. It is easy for us to forget why we busied ourselves. Some people say it is a blessing to be busy and feel needed, but we have to be careful that we are preoccupied for the right reasons. Some people only focus on themselves and cannot give others the time of day. Others give their jobs their all and neglect their own family.

There is an art to managing time. We have to apportion our time so that we know how to balance the demands of material and spiritual needs. We have to look out for ourselves, yet we should also have others’ well-being in mind. We must work for the present as well as for the future. If we can strike a balance in all these areas, then we are managing our time well.

The United States is a country for young people. Society moves at a rapid pace, and unable to keep up, elderly people often withdraw. What kind of life can we expect when we get old? While there is hardly enough time to do everything when we are young, the opposite is true when old age sets in. My suggestion is that we all should develop the habit of reading when we are still young. Then when we are less mobile, we can always sit back with a good book. We have to keep the mind young by keeping it busy and engaged. When our eyes are tired, we can recite Amitabha’s name. When we are mindful of Amitabha, he will always be in our hearts.

Actually, we do not have to wait until we are old to start reciting Amitabha’s name. It is a practice that is applicable to the old and the young. When we are busy, we can recite Amitabha’s name to calm our minds. Amitabha stands for “infinite light” and “infinite life,” a good anchor in the ups and downs of life.

We all have to deal with heart-wrenching problems sooner or later in life. What keeps us going in times like this is the hope that things will all work out and look better in the future. In Buddhism, hope is powered by two forces. The first force comes from the strength of vows. A good example is Samantabhadra Bodhisattva’s ten great vows: 1) to pay respect to all buddhas; 2) to give praise to the Tathagata; 3) to give alms; 4) to be remorseful of unwholesome ways; 5) to practice sympathetic joy; 6) to pray that the Buddha and the Dharma will always be with us; 7) to ask the Buddha to turn the Dharma wheel; 8) to continually practice the Buddha’s teachings; 9) to use skillful means to influence others; and 10) to transfer all merit to sentient beings. Vows have immeasurable strength because they embody hope not only for the one who vows but for all sentient beings as well. The merit from vows also facilitates good causes and conditions to help us carry through with our vows.

The second force comes from the support and guidance of the Triple Gem: the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha. When we are young, we depend on our parents for all our needs. When we grow up and live on our own, we expand our support circle to include trusted friends as well. Some people also like to seek help from deities, but they do not realize that the heavenly realm is still within the six realms of existence and deities are still subject to the wheel of rebirth. When their life spans are exhausted, deities age and become helpless, too. In this world of impermanence, the Buddha teaches us to seek support, or take refuge, in the Triple Gem. The Buddha, the fully enlightened one, shines on us like a light, helping us see our way. His teachings, or the Dharma, are like corrective lenses that help us see through our delusion and so understand the truth about life and the universe. They are the tracks on a railroad, keeping us on course so that we may reach our destination. The Sangha is the body of individuals who have renounced the household life and are committed to practicing the Dharma. Even though they may not have realized enlightenment, they are our teachers. It is said in the sutras that we are the sick, the Buddha is the skillful doctor, the Dharma represents medicine, and the monastics of the Sangha are caring nurses.

Friends may come and go, but the Triple Gem is always ready to extend a helping hand. The compassion of the Triple Gem together with the strength from pledging vows form a bedrock for our mental well-being.

Parting is such sweet sorrow. Separation from our loved ones is one of the eight sufferings we all have to endure. The Way to Buddhahood says, “Those with fame and high status can fall. Those who are together may be scattered.” There is nothing more heart-warming than a happy family enjoying each others’ company, sharing the good times as well as the bad. But children grow up and will eventually move out from under their parents’ wings. Sickness and death can also take our loved ones from us. Moreover, in this day and age of disposable everything, it seems that the family structure is also looked at in the same way. Spouses turn on one other; siblings treat each other as total strangers.

We all should treasure our relationships with our family and friends. Without the necessary causes and conditions, we would not have been brought together. While we treasure our relationships, we should not become attached to them either. We need to let go when our children grow up and leave us. There are a few things we can do to help us cope with separation when it becomes a reality. We should have a variety of interests to keep us busy so that we do not have to measure our happiness by how often our children visit. When our relationship with our children changes, we can build new relationships, too. If we have our own individual support circle, then we are less inclined to be demanding of our children’s time and attention. Last but not least, we should find happiness within ourselves and not in external elements.

What happens when our loved ones die and leave us forever? Let me share this account from the sutra with you. During the time of the Buddha, there was an elderly woman with an only son. She loved her son dearly and had always hoped that he would look after her when she became old and dependent. Unfortunately, her son fell ill one day and died shortly thereafter. The woman was beside herself with anguish. Grief-stricken, she carried the body to where the Buddha was staying in the hope that he could bring her son back to life. The Blessed One took pity on her and said, “If you want me to bring your son back to life, there is a way. You have to first bring me a small mustard seed, and not just any mustard seed. This mustard seed must come from a house which has not known death.” The mother thought that she could turn back time. With hope, she went from house to house, trying to find one where no one had died. Everywhere she went, someone in the family had once passed away. She searched in vain and finally, after knocking on all the doors, went back to the Buddha and told him what happened. The Buddha gently explained, “From time immemorial, man has lived and died. Such is the law of nature. You should not be overwrought with your son’s death.” The elderly woman was enlightened.

When there is life, there is also death; when there is union, there is also separation. We should treasure our relationships while they last and let go of them when separation becomes inevitable.

Some people look at wealth as the ultimate measure of success and the solution for all problems. Our wealth, regardless of its size, will not last forever. In fact, the Buddha once said that our wealth does not belong to us but to five masters. The five masters are flood, fire, theft, corrupt government, and prodigal sons. Floods and fires can destroy in an instant what took years to build. We often read in newspapers how scam artists target older people and cheat them out of their life savings. Government policies and war can change the landscape of wealth, while spendthrift children can squander a fortune, however large. While we say, “This is mine,” or “I possess this,” the relationship we have with our wealth is actually much more tenuous.

We came into this world empty-handed, and we will leave the world the same way. The sutras say, “We cannot take anything with us; only karma shadows us everywhere.” While this may sound obvious, many of us do not necessarily take it to heart. We think that while we may not take our wealth to our graves, we can still leave it behind for our children. Unfortunately, the process of divvying up the inheritance is a common cause of rifts between once loving siblings. In fact, the bigger the inheritance, the more bitter the feud. We think we can plan for our children’s future, but life can throw us many curves. We should not be consumed with providing for the next generation; the best thing we can do for our children is to give them a sound education and teach them right from wrong.

The important question regarding wealth is not how much we have, but what we do with what we have. Wealth by itself does not have any ethical value. It is up to us to put it to good use, such as helping the poor and spreading the Dharma. Many philanthropists set up scholarships to help needy children through college. It is their way to give a little back to the world.　

Whether we are rich or poor, young or old, we all get sick. Even a simple illness like the flu can keep us in bed for a few days. While it may be an inconvenience, we can all deal with it. The true test of our inner strength is when we face debilitating sickness. I remember about fifty years ago when I was in my twenties, I came down with a serious case of rheumatism. I was so ill that I could not walk. As I lay on the bed, even small movements could cause excruciating pain. When I finally saw a doctor, he told me that my rheumatism was a very severe case, and they might have to amputate my legs. When I heard the prognosis, I did not feel sorry for myself. I thought, “I have already dedicated my life to spreading the Dharma. If I were to lose my legs and could not travel, I would have more time to read and write. I could continue my work through my writings.” I was not afraid of how I might see myself or what others would think of me, and so I was not bothered by the possibility of having to lose my legs.

[When Norman Cousins[5] was diagnosed with a crippling illness in 1964, he did not give up hope. Instead, he looked at life in a whole new light and treated himself with “laugh therapy.” He went on to live a healthy life until the late 1990s.] Helen Keller was both blind and deaf. She was not deterred by her handicap and became an inspiration of our time. Very often, we are handicapped not so much by our physical ailments but by our mental morose.

How do we not feel hopeless when we are faced with life-altering sickness and change? Let me offer three suggestions. First, we need to remain positive even when we are sick. We all handle stress differently. Some people complain about even the slightest pain while others can endure a lot more. It is important that we do not let the body dictate how the mind feels. When the mind is not focused on the pain, the body will in turn feel better. Second, we should approach health in a holistic way and not become totally reliant on medication. While modern medicine has made many advances, it still has its limits. Some people would run to the doctor for the latest in drug therapy at the first sign of illness. As a result, some antibiotics have been so overly prescribed that they have begun to lose their effectiveness. In addition to medical intervention, we also need to examine our way of life to see if we are eating right and exercising enough. Third, we need to be at ease with our circumstances. While we try our best to take care of our sickness, it is equally important to be at ease with sickness itself. After all, sickness is an inevitable part of life. We all have to face it, but we need not succumb to it.

Life is not forever. While we all know that death follows life, I’d like to add that life also follows death. Death marks the end of one life and the beginning of another. Many of us do not have the slightest idea regarding the age-old questions: From where does life come? To where does death lead? While we are alive, we take life for granted. Most of us are preoccupied with making a living, but we do not think much about life itself. However little we understand about life, we understand death even less.

How should we look at life and death? The Buddha teaches us that life is without beginning and without end. Life is the culmination of causes and conditions, and as such, it is continually changing. Like the water in a fast running river, it is never the same water. As soon as some water flows away, more comes to take its place. This impermanence is an inherent characteristic of the phenomenal world. Look around us. We go through birth, aging, and death. Likewise, the inanimate world is marked with becoming, existing, and ceasing. The sutras say: “Mount Sumeru[6] may be huge and tall, yet it will disappear one day. Despite the great depths of the sea, it will become dry when its time is up. Though the sun and moon shine bright, they will cease to exist before long. The great earth may be strong and holds all there is, but when the fire of karma burns at the end of the kalpa, it , too, cannot escape impermanence.” When we see this truth, we will no longer fear death and rebirth. We will understand that death and rebirth is like moving from one house to the next.

The Buddha has shown us many ways of dealing with life and death. The Pure Land practice of mindfulness of Amitabha Buddha is a direct and suitable method for many of us, but it is by no means the only method. When the great master Tzu-hang was alive, he had one disciple with the Dharma name of Lu-hang. He was a retired military man and liked the simplicity of the Pure Land practice. He repeatedly pleaded with his teacher to recite Amitabha’s name with him so that he might be reborn in Amitabha’s pure land. One day when he again approached his teacher on this matter, the master said, “You really want to be reborn in Amitabha’s pure land. Good, let’s go.” He then sat down and passed away. When the other students realized their teacher was not breathing, they all blamed Lu-hang for causing their teacher’s death. After half an hour of commotion, the venerable gradually began to breathe again. He then remarked, “We are free to choose which school we want to practice.” It is not important which school of Buddhism we follow, as long as we practice.

Today, I have shared with you my thoughts on some of the common concerns that we all have. I hope you find the discussion useful. What is important is not how many of the Buddha’s teachings we understand, but how well we practice what we do know in our everyday situations.

[1] The word “dharma” here with the lower case “d” means phenomenon.

[2] The Sanskrit name of the sutra is Samantamukhaparivatro namavalokitesvara-vikurvana-nirdesa.

[3] Recognized, rather than transformed, is used here because nothing is really changed.

[4] The three doors of karma are speech, actions, and thought.

[5] Author of Anatomy of an Illness.

[6] In Indian culture, it is believed that Mount Sumeru is the central mountain of every world.