Becoming Bodhisattvas

by Pema Chodron

  This is now a familiar message. We don’t hold grudges against fallen branches, and we’d be wise to have the same equanimity toward aggressive people.

  6.67

  Some do evil things because of ignorance,

  Some respond with anger, being ignorant.

  Which of them is faultless in his acts?

  To whom shall error be attributed?

  Someone might justify harming us, not realizing how much she’s harming herself. We might retaliate out of the same ignorance. So who is right and who is wrong? Aren’t we both in the same boat?

  6.68

  Rather, why did I do evil in the past,

  That caused me harm at others’ hands?

  All that happens is the fruit of karma;

  Why then should I now be angry?

  To make this point clear, Shantideva reiterates his reflection on karmic consequences. This person and I have a karmic debt. I could respond in a way that erases that debt and benefits us both; or, I could keep the cycle of misery going. The choice is up to me.

  6.69

  This I see and therefore, come what may,

  I’ll hold fast to the virtuous path

  And foster in the hearts of all

  An attitude of mutual love.

  Shantideva is clear that there’s no valid justification for hatred. Rather than conning himself about his aggression, he’ll devote himself to fostering an attitude of mutual love.

  I once asked Thrangu Rinpoche how to work with my anger toward my mother. He told me I should experiment for awhile with resenting her and see how that felt. Then I should remember any kindness she showed me as a child and try appreciating her for a week or two. In the end, I could make my own decision about which attitude to cultivate for the rest of my life!

  6.70

  For when a building is ablaze

  And flames leap out from house to house,

  The wise course is to take and fling away

  The straw and anything that spreads the fire.

  6.71

  In fear that merit might be all consumed,

  We should at once cast far away

  Our mind’s attachments:

  Tinder for the fiery flames of hate.

  Here Shantideva gives clear instruction on how to cool off when anger is already aroused. He instructs us to remove the fuel that causes anger to escalate, the tinder of wanting things our way.

  When we look closely at our mind’s attachments, we can see they don’t hold together without our story lines. When it comes to the fiery flames of hate, we could cool them down by acknowledging obsessive thoughts and letting them go. Our tool for doing this is the shamatha meditation that Shantideva introduced in chapter 5.

  In meditation we recognize when our mind wanders and simply return to being present. To facilitate this process, we can add an additional step: we can label the thoughts “thinking.” This technique gently and objectively dissolves the stream of habitual chatter and its underlying beliefs. Like removing the tinder from a burning building, it deflates the powerful surge of energy before we become enflamed.*

  6.72

  Is not a man relieved when, though condemned to death,

  He’s freed, his hand cut off in ransom for his life?

  Enduring likewise merely human ills,

  Am I not happy to avoid the pains of hell?

  It’s painful to refrain from anger; it takes courage. When the hook of shenpa is strong, we long to talk indignantly among our friends, to yell at our foes, and to fuel the anger with our thoughts. Shantideva acknowledges the pain of not striking back by comparing it to the horror of having a hand cut off. But the pain of refraining is well worth it: it’s like losing only a hand instead of our life. It allows us to calm down and avoid the pains of hell.

  6.73

  If pains of even this, my present life,

  Are now beyond my strength to bear,

  Why do I not overthrow my anger,

  Cause of future sorrows in infernal torment?

  The message here is the same: by putting up with the relatively mild, short-term suffering of the detox period, we forgo far greater agony. The key is taking responsibility for our actions. Our future well-being depends on what we do right now.

  6.74

  For sake of gaining all that I desired,

  A thousand times I underwent

  The tortures of the realms of hell—

  Achieving nothing for myself and others.

  6.75

  The present aches are nothing to compare with those,

  And yet great benefits may come from them.

  These troubles that dispel the pains of wanderers—

  How could I not rejoice in them?

  When I read this, I’m reminded of the earlier part of my life and the suffering I went through around relationships. There was the pain of getting into them, even more pain getting out of them—and a tremendous amount of energy expended in between.

  Likewise, our careers and the other things we pursue can feel like the tortures of the realms of hell, and what do we have to show for it, with the passage of time? We have even stronger habits of striving, craving, hatred, and revenge. If we keep strengthening these old patterns, our present aches are nothing compared to those to come.

  This is our chance to do something different. We’ve spent lifetimes trying to find happiness in ordinary, samsaric ways. Now, let’s try working straightforwardly with the mind itself. Let’s also recall that our ordinary human suffering has value. It can humble us and teach us compassion. The pain we go through while changing old habits is not only worth tolerating, it’s worth celebrating!

  6.76

  When others take delight

  In giving praise to those endowed with talents,

  Why, O mind, do you not find

  A joy, likewise, in praising them?

  Remember that all the teachings in this book are Shantideva’s instructions to himself. In verses 76 through 86, he gives himself a pep talk about developing patience when his enemies are praised and he isn’t. It isn’t easy when someone else gets the compliments—or job, or perks, or lover—we want. We can’t pretend it doesn’t get to us. When the talents of others are being praised, Shantideva asks, Why, O mind, do you not find joy, likewise, in praising them?

  Now is not the time to go on automatic pilot. Instead you could do something revolutionary. You could turn the tide and rejoice in the good fortune of others; you could say to yourself: “I’m glad for them, and if I were in their shoes, I’d want them to be glad for me.”

  When the undertow of anger or resentment is pulling me under, teaching myself the dharma like this is sometimes the only thing that saves me from drowning.

  6.77

  The pleasure that you gain therefrom

  Itself gives rise to stainless happiness.

  It’s urged on us by all the holy ones,

  And is the perfect way of winning others.

  This stanza refers to the “four joys” of practicing patience. First, patience is stainless; second, it brings happiness; third, it is praised by the holy ones; and fourth, it is the perfect way to help others.

  So often when we achieve happiness, our gain is, intentionally or unintentionally, someone else’s loss. If we get the job, some other person doesn’t; if we win the Olympic gold, others are crying because they lost. It’s not that we’re malicious or in any way at fault. That’s just the way it is. Even if we don’t purposely step on someone else’s toes, our happiness is subtly “stained.” The practice of patience, on the other hand, is stainless. In every case, no one loses and everyone gains.

  The practice of patience brings happiness. This is the second joy. It i
sn’t always instant pleasure, of course; sometimes it’s just the great relief of lessening our burden of rage. Just being able to pause and relax instead of retaliating gradually brings unshakable well-being. We find that very few people provoke us and the world is a friendlier place.

  The third joy is that patience is praised by the buddhas. In the most profound sense, this means it brings us closer to our buddha nature, or basic goodness.

  The fourth joy is that patience enables us to communicate sanely. It allows us to be heard and is thus the perfect way of winning others. In other words, we can get our message across because no one feels threatened or accused.

  6.78

  “But they’re the ones who’ll have the happiness,” you say.

  If this then is a joy you would resent,

  Abandon paying wages and returning favors:

  You will be the loser—both in this life and the next!

  Sometimes we’ve had enough of hearing about the virtues of patience. On some level, we might buy it; but on a gut level, we prefer the conventional logic, the logic of “what about me?” Why shouldn’t I feel envious when others get all the praise? Why shouldn’t I feel left out, lonely, or miserable when they’re the ones surrounded by friends? Samsaric reasoning says that someone else is going to get all the happiness, not me.

  If this is the way we feel, Shantideva asks, why would we want happiness for anyone? Why even bother paying wages and returning favors? Just because people work for us or help us out, why do anything to make them happy?

  His rebuttal may not be easy to grasp, but it’s well worth considering: not practicing patience is like not paying wages or returning favors. In general, people won’t like us very much; in terms of our kleshas, strengthening meanness and jealousy won’t bring us any happiness. No matter how we look at it, we lose.

  6.79

  When praise is heaped upon your merits,

  You’re keen that others should rejoice in them.

  But when the compliment is paid to others,

  Your joy is oh so slow and grudging.

  This is a very up-to-date little verse. We could read it anywhere in the world, to any cultural, economic, or racial group and everybody would get it. The last two lines describe a predictable human response: we resent it when others are praised instead of us. Shantideva’s point is that nurturing this kind of response doesn’t make anyone happy.

  6.80

  You who want the happiness of beings,

  Have wished to be enlightened for their sake.

  So why should others irk you when

  They find some little pleasure for themselves?

  6.81

  If you truly wish that beings be enlightened,

  Venerated by the triple world,

  When petty marks of favor come their way,

  Why, oh why, are you in torment?

  How ironic to take the bodhisattva vow to work for the happiness of all sentient beings and get irked by the most trivial interactions. Sometimes all we can do is laugh at our all-too-predictable reactions. We’d rather travel around the world to help homeless orphans than deal with our own mother or spouse. Shantideva encourages us to fulfill our vow by working wholeheartedly with everyday provocations.

  6.82

  When dependents who rely on you,

  To whom you are obliged to give support,

  Find for themselves the means of livelihood,

  Will you not be happy, will you once again be angry?

  Here again Shantideva uses humor to point out our nonsensical foibles. At least one or two sentient beings are saving us some trouble on the bodhisattva path by finding happiness all by themselves, even if it’s the happiness of getting compliments we don’t feel they deserve. Just as we’re relieved when dependent children get jobs and start taking care of themselves, we could be equally relieved when even one sentient being makes less work for this bodhisattva.

  6.83

  If even this you do not want for beings,

  How could you want buddhahood for them?

  And how can anyone have bodhichitta

  And resent the good that others have?

  He continues with the theme of practicing patience when others, particularly those we don’t like, get praised or rewarded. How can we say we want people to get enlightened when we don’t even want them to get compliments? And, again, Shantideva reminds us that justifying resentment—or feeling guilty about it, for that matter—stifles the bodhi heart.

  There is no practice more important than relating honestly and sanely with the irritations that plague us in everyday life.

  6.84

  If someone else receives a gift,

  Or if that gift stays in the benefactor’s house,

  In neither case will it be yours—

  So, given or withheld, why is it your concern?

  6.85

  Tell me, why don’t you resent yourself,

  You who throw your merit, faith,

  And all your qualities so far away?

  Why do you not cultivate the cause of riches?

  Shantideva says to himself and his fellow monks: if a gift is given, or not given, to someone else, in either case we are not receiving it. So let’s not torture ourselves with envious or hateful thoughts. If we’re so willing to throw away our peace of mind, we might as well resent ourselves.

  He is not, of course, suggesting we denigrate ourselves. We could just acknowledge that the way our mind keeps cycling in the same old patterns is causing us problems. We have a choice here. When rewards are given to those we feel are unworthy, we can let it destroy our peace of mind or let it go.

  6.86

  All the evil you have done

  You cheerfully neglect to purify.

  And do you further wish to match yourself

  With others who have earned their merit?

  When we obliviously rant on about others’ good fortune—How come they got the job? The pay increase? The winning lottery ticket?—we forget it may be due to their previous virtuous actions. Now they’re experiencing the results and merit of those virtuous actions. Our resentment and gossip, on the other hand, won’t bring us any positive results.

  The next few verses address practicing patience when we find ourselves glad that our enemy has fallen on hard times.

  6.87

  If unhappiness befalls your enemy,

  Why should this be a cause for your rejoicing?

  The wishes of your mind alone,

  Will not in fact contrive his injury.

  6.88

  And if your hostile wishes were to bring them harm,

  Again, what cause of joy is that to you?

  “Why, then I should be satisfied!”—are these your thoughts?

  Is anything more ruinous than that?

  6.89

  Caught upon the hook, unbearable and sharp,

  Cast by the fisherman, my own defilements,

  I’ll be flung into the cauldrons of the pit,

  And surely parboiled by the janitors of hell!

  It’s definitely tempting to delight in the misfortune of our enemies. Shantideva likens us to a fish that spots a worm on a hook. Whether or not we’re conscious of the hook, we still want to bite into that juicy little worm. The consequences for us and the poor fish are the same: short-term gratification and a very unpleasant end. Getting caught on the sharp hook of hatred and jealously will never bring comfort and ease.

  6.90

  The rigmarole of praise and fame

  Serves not to increase merit or one’s span of life,

  Bestowing neither health nor strength

  And nothing for the body’s ease.

&nbs
p; 6.91

  If I am wise in what is good for me,

  I’ll ask what benefit these bring.

  For if it’s entertainment I desire,

  I might as well resort to alcohol and cards!

  Maybe our downfall isn’t getting envious or insulted when others get what we feel we deserve; maybe our weakness is the rigmarole of praise and fame.

  However, the things that we think will make a significant difference in our lives—fame, praise, status, a new house, the partner of our dreams—don’t seem to remove unhappiness for very long. After the immediate gratification, we’re usually back where we started.

  This simple truth rarely penetrates. Even with clear-cut evidence to the contrary, we continue relying on possessions, relationships, reputation, or wealth to significantly alter our state of mind. Shantideva questions the wisdom of these habitual assumptions and states the obvious: no matter how successful we are at getting what we want, it won’t increase our life span, long-term contentment, or merit. Expecting lasting happiness from a shift in outer circumstances will always disappoint us.

  With his usual wit Shantideva says, in effect: If the reason for my addiction to praise and fame is a desire for gratification, I might as well give up my monastic vows and start drinking and gambling. It would give me the same fleeting satisfaction!

  I always wonder if the monks in his audience were shocked or amused by Shantideva’s humor.

  6.92

  We lose our lives, our wealth we squander,

  All for reputation’s sake.

  What use are words, and whom will they delight

  When we are dead and in our graves?

  Some of us will go to any lengths to get ahead. Maybe even you have taken some crazy risks in hopes of being recognized and admired. But is the temporary elation worth it in the long run? And will you be able to look to it for help when you die?

  6.93

  Children can’t help crying when