A Time of Reflection

“When you change the way you see people, your experience of people changes.” ~Nic Askew

DSCN3372This time of year makes me contemplative, and perhaps this year more so than ever: summer giving way to fall, another year speeding toward its conclusion, a pandemic that continually asserts its presence, and a sense that so many big things hang in the balance—democracy, planetary survival, even civility. While these are all issues I can take action on, I must also acknowledge that my individual efforts likely have little effect on the outcome. It doesn’t help that as I write this, the air in Seattle is heavy with smoke from wildfires in the central and eastern parts of our state, and from fires ravaging our northern neighbor, British Columbia.

So, I seek what others have to teach me. I search my bookshelves and even the internet to see how people wiser than I are navigating these unsettled times. This week, I found comfort, inspiration, and a few chuckles in a New York Times article on Matthieu Ricard, the Buddhist monk, author, and humanitarian who is often referred to as “the world’s happiest man” (this title was bestowed as a result of his brain’s chart-topping production of gamma waves). Ricard is also a close ally of the Dalai Lama and was for many years his French interpreter.

The article, “The ‘World’s Happiest Man’ Shares His Three Rules for Life,”* held some surprises. While Ricard says, “I cannot imagine feeling hate or wanting someone to suffer,” he also acknowledges that Vladimir Putin and Bashar al-Assad are “the scum of humanity.” And he recognizes the cruelty, indifference, and greed of Donald Trump. In fact, he goes so far as to say these men “are walking psychopaths, … they have no heart.” I’m no Ricard. While in agreement on his assessment of Putin, Assad, and Trump, I have not the goodness that keeps me from hankering for a bit of suffering for this trio. How does one acquire that virtue?

I wish I were a better person, one who could easily imagine extending compassion to the likes of Putin. I am reminded of a story I first heard years ago:

A wise woman traveling in the mountains found a precious stone in a stream. The next day, she encountered another traveler who said he was hungry. When she opened her bag to share her food, the man saw the precious stone and asked the woman to give it to him. She did so without hesitation. The traveler left, rejoicing in his good fortune. The stone, he knew, was worth enough to provide security for a lifetime. But a few days later, he came back in search of the woman and returned the stone to her. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, “I know how valuable this stone is, but I give it back in the hope that you will give me something even more precious. Give me what you have within you that enabled you to give me the stone.”

Ricard says compassion has to be universal. We can’t withhold it from those whom we consider evil. In his eyes, it is the systems that create or allow such people to emerge that are to blame and that need to be changed. Intellectually, I completely agree. When society is structured in such a way that ignorance, greed, and bigotry are rewarded and elevated, we will continue to reward and elevate those who excel in these qualities. We will continue to construct heartless psychopaths. How, though, do we change such systems? How do we wrest power from cold-blooded authoritarians without wanting them to taste their own bitter medicine?

Ricard differentiates compassion from moral judgment: “These people we are talking about are like sticks in the hands of ignorance and hatred. We can judge the acts of a person at a particular time, but compassion is wishing that the present aspect of suffering and the causes of suffering may be remedied.” To extend compassion to people we find abhorrent, we must address what causes that abhorrent behavior. We cannot alleviate suffering and cruelty without attending to their causes. And the causes are ignorance, hatred, and surely fear. These, he says, we have the capacity to change.

Alas, he doesn’t provide a step-by-step recipe, but much appears to depend on how we perceive our world and whether we “translate outer conditions, good or bad, into happiness or misery.” What we choose to see and feel determines how we experience our world, and, in turn, how we respond and interact. If we can cultivate a “quality of human warmth,” and a genuine desire for all people to be happy, the kind of change we’re seeking is possible.

Ricard also makes an interesting distinction between anger and indignation. It’s been twenty years since he last felt anger, but he confesses to feeling indignant frequently: “I get indignation all the time about things that should be remedied. Indignation is related to compassion. Anger can be out of malevolence.” Perhaps, then, there is hope for me, for lately indignation is a common response to what I am seeing in the world. Okay, anger, too, but the distinction is not lost on me, and I can learn from it.

He reminds us that each time we practice unconditional love and compassion it becomes easier to do it the next time and for longer periods. Kindness is the answer.

These are some of my take-aways from this thoughtful article.* It’s brief and worth your time. You’ll also learn why a 77-year-old Buddhist monk considers his Apple Watch an essential accessory.

“We are visitors on this planet. We are here for one hundred years at the very most. During that period we must try to do something good, something useful, with our lives. if you contribute to other people’s happiness, you will find the true meaning of life.” ~Dalai Lama

*gift link – can be accessed without NY Times subscription

37 thoughts on “A Time of Reflection

  1. As always, thank you for this, Donna! I was utterly shocked when I first saw this article published in the NYT last week. FINALLY they posted some good news amongst the endless discouraging articles of Trump. GOOD FOR YOU to further the reach of this important article. We badly need encouragement as the alternative is hopelessness.

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    • I hadn’t thought about it, Roxanne, but you’re right, it was a refreshing article to see in the NYT, or any of the national press these days. I’d love to see them follow it with more stories of wise and inspiring people. And fewer stories about the heartless psychopaths. Attention just fuels them.

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      • I find Great solace at Tricycle.org (Buddhist magazine/newsletter/courses), and highly recommend Sharon Salzberg’s on-line course on lovingkindness entitled: ‘The Boundless Heart’. It helps!

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        • Thanks for these references, Roxanne. I have read several of Sharon Salzberg’s books and enjoyed them greatly. Not familiar with Tricycle–I”ll check it out.

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  2. Yes! it was such a refreshing pleasure to read the Ricard interview in the NYT. I thought of you then, Donna, and of course it is no surprise to find you sharing it here/now! I love Ricard’s philosophy and his sublime photography, which you can also view on his website.
    (Nevertheless, I personally remain steadfastly opposed to the tyranny of an Apple watch ~ à chacun son 🙂

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  3. I can’t solve any of these problems, but an exercise you might find interesting is to imagine Trump or Putin or whichever else vile person comes to mind coming up to you and saying ‘Excuse me, can I help you?’ What does that do to your emotions?

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  4. Thanks for sharing the article. I don’t normally read the NYT. My favorite quote was “cultivate that quality of human warmth, wanting genuinely for other people to be happy; that’s the best way to fulfill your own happiness.” I found that “genuinely want” phrasing very compelling and resonating.

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    • Pat, yes! Isn’t that a lovely line, and it’s something we can all aspire to … and perhaps achieve with enough practice. That article just gave me so much to think about, and learn from.

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  5. Sounds like a very interesting article! I think the key to compassion is that it has to be universal in order to do any good. It’s easy to be kind and compassionate to those we like and agree with, but much harder to extend kindness and compassionate to those people we don’t like, or even fear. But the problem is, we all have people we don’t like and fear, and if we use their “evilness” (in our eyes) as an excuse to treat them badly, then we have to acknowledge that is exactly the same thing they are doing when they treat others badly. I’m not saying this well, but I hope you see what I mean.

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    • You said it very well, Ann. It’s not a stretch to be kind and compassionate with people we like or who themselves are kind. Extending kindness to those who are unkind to us, or who we consider “bad” people is the stretch. That’s where we grow as humans. It’s a lifetime practice…. Thanks!

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  6. I’m sort of onboard with this. I believe in compassion, but I also define it in various ways depending on person, situation, and how threatened I feel. As someone once told me, be kind to people who won’t use it against you. And all the others? Politely step away.

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    • Ally, “politely step away” is the lesson most of us need to learn. There should be a class in elementary school for kids in this important choice. Think of all the cringeworthy encounters we could have avoided if we’d learned early to politely step away…. Thanks!

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  7. Thank you so much for the free link, Donna! I laughed when the interviewer said, “I can easily imagine wanting certain people to suffer.” I laughed because that was me years ago. But after having suffered so much pain in 20 years, I’d never wish anyone to suffer. Of course there are people I dislike, but I’m thankful I have my Catholic faith to help me pray for them to find happiness, so they will be more likable (to me anyway, because other people might like them.) Assad, Putin and Trump may be hated by thousands, if not millions of people, but I’m sure they are also loved by some who know them another way.

    I love what he said about the best way to fulfill one’s happiness is “wanting genuinely for other people to be happy” and that it can be cultivated.

    It’s a challenge but certainly a doable one.

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    • Thanks for your very thoughtful comment, Therese. I love the notion of cultivating a genuine desire for everyone to be happy, and I do think it’s possible with practice. But I think it’s also compatible to wish that destructive people are removed from positions of power. We don’t have to wish suffering on them, but a quiet, happy life in obscurity, where they can do no harm. That would lessen the suffering of so many millions of other people. A challenge, for sure!

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  8. I love that last quote by the Dalai Lama and I also loved the story of the lady who willingly gave up the stone. Anger vs indignation is interesting too. Clearly compassion, kindness and empathy is key, but hey, we’re only human and some of our so called “leaders” have a lot to answer more. Still, maybe that’s for a higher power to sort out, leaving the rest of us to focus on the good of life. Fabulous post! 🙏

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    • Thanks, Miriam! I find that distinction between anger and indignation to be fascinating. Lately, I’ve noticed myself pausing to reflect on which I’m feeling when I get bothered by the latest political or social injustice. I’m starting to see how indignation connects to compassion, while anger rides alone.

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