Think Like a Monk

by Jay Shetty

  As Corn found, service gives back to us.

  Studies show that when we pursue “compassionate goals”—those aimed at helping others or otherwise helping to make the world a better place—we’re less likely to have symptoms of anxiety and depression than when we focus on improving or protecting our own status or reputation. The act of giving to others activates the pleasure center of our brain. It’s win-win-win. This may be why those who help others tend to live longer, be healthier, and have a better overall sense of well-being.

  Monks believe that the pillar of service makes our lives better in many ways.

  Service connects us. When you serve, it’s hard to be lonely. In most scenarios, you have to go out into the world to help other people.

  Service amplifies gratitude. Service gives you a broad view of all that you have.

  Service increases compassion. When you serve, you see that the world needs what you have to offer.

  Service builds self-esteem. Helping others tells you that you’re making a difference in the world. You have a sense of meaning and purpose.

  The ashram is designed around the intention to serve, and it’s easier to live with that as your highest intention when everyone around you is on board. A life of service is far more challenging in the modern world, and we can’t all follow the monks’ 24/7 model, but the monk practice shows us why and how we should adopt a service mindset.

  THE SERVICE MINDSET

  The word seva is Sanskrit for selfless service. The Bhagavad Gita says that “giving simply because it is right to give, without thought of return, at a proper time, in proper circumstances, and to a worthy person, is sattvic giving”—giving in the mode of goodness. Monks are solely motivated by selfless service: to give others opportunities that we had and didn’t have; to better others’ lives and the human condition. We took this mission to heart in small and large ways. Within the ashram, we tried to serve each other every day. Monks don’t make grand gestures. Love is in the small things. If someone was having trouble waking up on time, we’d help them. If someone was working late, we’d save food for them. We are consistent and intentional. We remember that we never know what someone is going through, so we treat them with the gentleness you would give someone who is in pain, with the generosity you would give someone who is hungry, with the compassion you would give someone who is misunderstood.

  This attitude radiated beyond the ashram. When we traveled, we always carried extra food with us so that we had some to give away. We weren’t ending world hunger, but to help any hungry person is to water the seeds of compassion.

  On a larger scale, we participated in a program called Annamrita, which provides more than a million meals a day to the underprivileged children of India. We often went to Mumbai to cook in the kitchens or to serve food in the schools. The students were given kitchari, a rice and lentil porridge made with ghee that’s considered a staple in Ayurvedic cooking, and afterward they would receive dessert, a sweet rice pudding called kheer. The first time I handed a child kheer, her gratitude was so apparent that I was humbled. It was the same with every child, every time, each face radiating joy. I hate cooking—the hot kitchen full of people, the massive pots to be tended. But the kids’ faces—and the sad truth they told about how rare and special the food was to them—made it easy to feel grateful for the opportunity to serve.

  At the ashram, instead of saying “How was work?” we might ask, “Have you served today?” If you were wondering what monk water-cooler talk sounds like—there you have it. Set aside the obstacles for a moment and imagine if everyone had a service mindset. We would ask ourselves new questions: How does this serve a broader purpose? How am I serving the people around me—at work, at home, in my community? How can I use my talents to serve others and make a difference? Remember Emma Slade, who uses her financial skills to serve her charity work, and ask yourself, “What do I know that is of any use?”

  We have seen that happiness and gratitude spread through communities. The same is true for service. When you serve, you mention it to your friends. You might bring someone else with you. Someone joins you, and they tell two friends. When you participate in service, you do your part to spread the value of service in our culture.

  TRY THIS: EXTEND YOUR RADIUS OF CARE

  Think of four to six people you would drop everything to help. How often do you think about these people? Do you ever actually have a chance to show your care for them? Can you start?

  Now think of twenty people you would help if they asked. Before you give up, let me make that easier for you. Think of a group containing at least twenty people whom you would help. It might be a segment of your community or a group that a charity already serves. Let’s bring these people into a closer circle of care.

  If you don’t know them, research the names of twenty people in this group or find another way to compile a list of at least twenty names. Tape the list to the mirror where you brush your teeth. Now you’ll think of them at least twice a day (I hope!). Observe how this changes your motivation to serve them.

  Most people think about just one person: themselves. Maybe their radius of care is a bit bigger, including their immediate family. That’s, maybe, five to ten people worrying about one another. But if you expand your radius of care, I believe that people feel it. If others extend their radius of care to include you, I believe that you would feel it. And what if we dare to imagine that everyone were thinking like this? You would have some 7.8 billion people thinking about you, and vice versa. I don’t see why we shouldn’t dream big.

  WHEN WILL YOU BE READY TO SERVE?

  Out in the modern world, no matter how much we want to help others, we are distracted from the service mindset by the desire to be financially and emotionally stable and secure. If you’re lost and disconnected, your service will be cumbersome and less fulfilling. But when is the time right? Will it ever be right? Internal exploration has no endpoint. It’s an ongoing practice. Your problems will never be completely solved.

  Take care of yourself—yes. But don’t wait until you have enough time and money to serve. You will never have enough. There are three simple modes to describe our relationship with money and material wealth. The first is selfish—I want more—as much as I can get—and I want it all for myself. The second is sufficiency—I have just enough to get by. I’m not suffering, but I have nothing to give. The third is service—I want to give what I have, and I want more in order to give more.

  Moving from the sufficiency mindset to the service mindset means changing our relationship with ownership—the more detached we are, the easier it is to let go of our time and money.

  Some of our trips as monks were pilgrimages to bathe in the sacred rivers. I went to the Ganges, the Yamuna, and the Kaveri. We didn’t swim or play in the holy waters. Instead, we performed rituals; one involved scooping as much water as we could into our hands, then putting it back in the river. We took from water to give back to water as a reminder that we didn’t own anything. Charity isn’t giving of yourself. You’re taking something that was already on earth and giving it back to earth. You don’t have to have to give.

  Sindhutai Sapkal was married at twelve to a thirty-year-old man. When she was twenty years old, with three sons, nine months pregnant, she was beaten and thrown into a cow shed. She gave birth there, cutting her own umbilical cord with a sharp rock. Shunned by her maternal village, she lived on the streets with her newborn, begging and singing for money. She was struck by the number of orphans she saw and took them under her wing. She began begging on their behalf as well as her own. Her efforts grew, and she became known as the “Mother of Orphans.” Her organizations have now housed and helped more than fourteen hundred children in India. Sindhutai didn’t serve because she had something to give. She served because she saw pain.

  In a series of experiments, researchers at University of California, Berkeley, found that people with less money actually tend to give more. In one situation, people were given $10 and told the
y could choose an amount to share with an anonymous stranger. People who were lower in socioeconomic status were more generous than wealthier participants. These findings are backed up by a survey of charitable giving in 2011, which showed that Americans in the bottom percentage of income gave, on average, 3 percent of their earnings to charity where people in the top 20 percent gave half that—1 percent. (Just to be fair, the wealthy are still responsible for over 70 percent of charitable contributions.)

  Why those with less give more may have to do with their exposure to hardship. UC Berkeley professor of psychology Dacher Keltner says that people with fewer resources tend to need to lean on others—family members, friends, those in their community—for help. Those with more money, conversely, can “buy” help and are therefore more distanced from this kind of day-to-day struggle. The poor may have greater empathy for others in need. Some philanthropists, such as Oprah Winfrey, have mentioned their own prior experience of poverty as a motivation for giving.

  The question to contemplate is: Who is wealthier, the one with money or the one who serves?

  SERVE WITH INTENTION

  I had come to the ashram to serve, and when I was saying my goodbyes, one monk who had been a like a big brother to me took me aside. He said something like, “If your health and being a monk isn’t right for you, that doesn’t mean you can’t serve. If you feel you can serve better by being married or becoming a chef or darning socks for the needy, that takes priority. Service to humanity is the higher goal.” His words reassured me that just because I was leaving didn’t mean my intention had to change.

  One can serve with a mix of intentions, broad and narrow. We might do it to be liked, to feel good about ourselves, to look good, to connect with other people, to receive some kind of reward. But if you’re out there helping your friends move, cooking for them, celebrating them, and then you wonder, Why doesn’t anyone come help me? or Why did everyone forget my birthday?—you’ve missed the point. You’re seeing yourself as the giver and them as the receiver and imagining that when service is done, a debt is created. True service doesn’t expect or even want anything in return. Nonetheless, the service itself often yields happiness, as both the Bhagavad Gita and the science show. When I do something to serve you, and you’re happy, I’m happy.

  But is service selfish if it brings you joy? Is it selfish if it teaches your children a lesson? Of course not! If a certain kind of giving makes you happy or benefits you in some way, that’s a great place to start. After I left the ashram, I led retreats from London to Mumbai, giving people from the UK and other parts of Europe a chance to serve “midday meals” with Annamrita. One man who came on a retreat with me brought his kids, aged thirteen and fourteen. They returned from that trip having witnessed and felt the gratitude of people who didn’t have much in their lives. The father was thrilled at how transformed his kids were. His trip was not completely selfless—he wanted his children to learn and grow—but it was still the right thing to do. In fact, the learning opportunity he saw for his children is an example of the mutual benefits of service.

  The problems that some of us face are mental—anxiety, depression, loneliness—whereas for many of the people in need of service the greatest challenges are more basic—food, clothing, shelter. We can heal our mental challenges by helping them with their physical needs. Service, therefore, is a reciprocal exchange. You’re not saving anyone by helping them—you need help as much as they do.

  When we’re in service, we’re an instrument of grace and compassion. We feel this, and sometimes it goes to our heads. But remember that whatever you are giving was given to you. When you pass it on, you can’t take credit for it.

  SERVE WITHIN YOUR DHARMA

  Because service is a natural part of being human, it’s easier than you think. Just serve. We can always, every day—right now!—find ways to serve through what we’re already doing. If you’re a musician, serve. If you’re a coder, serve. If you’re an entrepreneur, serve. You don’t have to change your occupation. You don’t have to change your schedule. You can serve from any situation.

  If you look around, you will see opportunities for service everywhere: in schools, at religious institutions, with individuals on the street, charities. There are neighborhood food drives and used costume drives at school. You can run a race to raise money for charity or have a lemonade stand. You can help a friend gather toiletries to send to disaster victims. You can visit a sick or aging relative. If you live in a city, you can often carry your leftovers out of a restaurant and offer them to a homeless person. Those closest to us, and those who have nobody—there are infinite ways to serve. You don’t have to do charity work every day or give away all your money. Simply realize you’re in service and look for how you can connect what you already do to a higher purpose. Just as you bring your dharma to work, bring service to your dharma. It’s about the spirit in which you do the same work. You can either see the world through the lens of love and duty, or through the lens of necessity and force. Love and duty are more likely to lead to happiness.

  TRY THIS: WAYS TO SERVE

  Over the course of a week, write down every place where you spend time. Open your eyes to the service opportunities by looking for one in every circumstance. Sometimes it is a need that you spot, sometimes it is an existing project you can join, sometimes it is attaching a fundraiser to an activity you already do, sometimes it is a friend’s service effort. At the end of the week, pick the three opportunities that interest you most and reach out to one of them.

  Here are some sample places where you can look for opportunities:

  Work

  School

  Social event with friend(s)

  Online community

  Religious or other community group

  Gym

  Requests for help from a cause you’ve supported in the past

  ALL SUFFERING BELONGS TO ALL OF US

  When the monks and I were fending for ourselves in the village, the ultimate lesson for me was that there was always another level of service. This lesson emerged from looking past our own needs to see and feel and respond to the needs of those around us.

  I think of compassion as active empathy—not only the willingness to see, feel, and ease the pain of others, but also the willingness to take on some of that pain. There is a Zen story about a young man who is world-weary and dejected. With no plan or prospects, he goes to a monastery, tells the master that he is hoping to find a better path, but he admits that he lacks patience. “Can I find enlightenment without all that meditation and fasting?” he asks. “I don’t think I can handle it. Is there another way?”

  “Perhaps,” says the master, “But you will need the ability to focus. Are there any skills you’ve developed?”

  The young man looks down. He hasn’t been inspired by his studies or any particular interests. Finally, he shrugs. “Well, I’m not bad at chess.”

  The master calls over one of the monk elders and says, “I’d like you and this young man to play a game of chess. Play carefully, because I will cut off the head of the one who loses.”

  The young man breaks into a sweat. He’s playing for his life! He plays weakly at first, but it soon becomes clear that his opponent’s chess skills are fair at best. If he puts his mind to it, he will surely win. He soon loses himself in concentration and begins to beat the old monk. The master begins to sharpen his sword.

  Now the young man looks across the table, sees the wise, calm face of the old monk, who in his obedience and detachment has no fear of the death that certainly awaits him. The disillusioned man thinks, I can’t be responsible for this man’s death. His life is worth more than mine. Then the young man’s play changes—he deliberately begins to lose.

  Without warning, the master flips the table over, scattering the pieces. “Today there will be no winner, and no loser,” he states. The losing monk’s calm demeanor doesn’t change, but the astonished young man feels a great sense of relief. The elder says to him, “Yo
u have the ability to concentrate, and you are willing to give your life for another. That is compassion. Join us and proceed in that spirit. You are ready to be a monk.”

  There are approximately 152 million child laborers in the world, and Kailash Satyarthi has taken on an enormous amount of pain in his effort to end child labor. In 2016 the Nobel Peace Laureate launched the 100 Million, a campaign to enlist 100 million young people to speak out and act against child labor. In the course of his work he has been threatened and beaten many times. He says, “The world is capable to end child labor. We have the technology. We have the resources. We have laws and international treaties. We have everything. The only thing is that we have to feel compassion for others. My struggle is for the globalization of compassion.”

  Like Satyarthi, we are motivated to serve when we think of the whole world as one family. You wouldn’t want your child to be enslaved or your parent to be homeless. Why would you want those hardships for anyone else’s child or parent? If you stay shut in your world and never see how other people live, you’ll never be focused on service. When we bear witness to other people’s pain, we feel our shared humanity and are motivated to take action.