Satya Robyn and Kaspa explore loving-kindness through the Karaniya Metta Sutta, discussing how genuine compassion differs from people-pleasing, trauma responses like fawning, and Buddhist teachings on boundaries and care.
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Okay, welcome everybody. Um, so we're going to speak about kindness, and we'll maybe just begin with a moment's silence just to land in the space. Yeah, so I will speak first and then Caspar will speak. And I wanted to begin by reading— I've got two poems for you today, and the first poem is actually a sutta, so a poem written by the Buddha as far as we know, and it's the Karaniya Metta Sutta, the Buddha's words on loving kindness. And this particular translation was carried out by the Amaravati Sangha. This is what should be done by one who is skilled in goodness and who knows the path of peace. Let them be able and upright, straightforward and gentle in speech. Humble and not conceited, contented and easily satisfied, unburdened with duties and frugal in their ways, peaceful and calm and wise and skillful, not proud or demanding in nature. Let them not do the slightest thing that the wise would later reprove. Wishing in gladness and in safety, may all beings be at ease. Whatever living beings there may be, whether they are weak or strong, omitting none, the great or the mighty, medium, short or small, the seen and the unseen, those living near and far away, those born and to be born, may all beings be at ease. Let none deceive another or despise any being in any state. Let none through anger or ill will wish harm upon another. Even as a mother protects with her life her child, her only child, so with a boundless heart should one cherish all living beings, radiating kindness over the entire world, spreading upwards to the skies and downwards to the depths, outwards and unbounded, freed from hatred and ill will. Whether standing or walking, seated or lying down, free from drowsiness, one should sustain this recollection. This is said to be the sublime abiding. By not holding to fixed views, the pure-hearted one, having clarity of vision, being freed from all sense desires, is not born again into this world. So I'm not sure how it is for you to hear that verse, but as I listen to it, Several things happen inside me at once. One is an appreciation for the beauty of the sentiment and the language that's been chosen by the translators. And the clarity with which the description kind of encompasses How to be kind, how to live a kind life, how to live a life of the Dharma. I also feel inspired by it. I feel like, oh, I could aim towards that and be more like that. And that's all good. And I think that's all as the Buddha intended. I also feel a kind of, oh my God. How am I ever going to be able to get anywhere near that description? That's when I thank the Buddha that I'm a Pure Land Buddhist. And I think that there's always this danger with spiritual texts, with teaching, with when we describe an ideal really beautifully, then immediately there's something gets set up, and that there's, here's the ideal and here's you. And, um, I think it's very human to have feelings about that, to have feelings about noticing the distance between you and the ideal. And there are different ways that people deal with that, with those responses. One of those ways is to pretend, to pretend that actually they're kind of a bit more this way than they are there. And I think we see this in spiritual communities sometimes when you're just not allowed to be angry, or you're not allowed to have harmful thoughts towards other people. You're not allowed to be jealous. You just got to rip that out and throw it away and just be good. And, and other people can kind of collude in that. Like everyone sort of almost gets a bit like, oh yeah, we're the, we're the good ones in this community. Not like you sinners over there. Um, and that can become quite dangerous because the, The, the reality is that that's not true and that that stuff kind of festers away and finds ways of, of sneaking out. Another response to those feelings is to exit, is to just leave. And I think over the years here, that's happened to lots of people that, that they have, um, they've encountered themselves when they've come to practice. And they haven't liked that. They haven't liked seeing parts of themselves, and the only way to handle that has been to leave the community rather than have to keep coming into contact with that kind of, uh, that self-critical feeling or the shame or the, the feelings of failure or whatever it is. And there are probably other ways of responding, but what I want to speak about today is something that's been helpful for me when I encounter ideals like be kind. And I guess that there's maybe two things that, that the first is to really ground myself in refuge, to know that within this community, as far as these human beings in this community are able, and more importantly within the Bodhisattva and the Dharma and the, the Buddha and the Earth, that I am seen as flawed and that I am accepted and loved. And that really being able to even just get a taste of that helps me to be more realistic with myself about How I actually am rather than how I would like to be. And that's really the kind of, that's the starting point. Without that, if we don't have any of that, it's actually really difficult to do anything else. And I'm thinking again about, I'm thinking about my ex actually, who was alcoholic. And he, he reached a point where he felt so bad about himself. He couldn't, he couldn't do anything other than survive. Um, it was impossible for him to hear from anyone that he'd done anything that wasn't perfect, and he was messing up left, right, and center at that point in his life. But, but to hear that was too much because he already felt so terrible. He was having to— all of his energy was going into, um, you know, just living day to day and not being swallowed by shame. From that position, we can't do any work on ourselves. It's just not possible. Um, we need, we need some ground underneath us. And yeah, that's, that's what the 12 steps tell us, is that, that in order to heal, we have to, we have to say, I need help. I can't do this on my own. We have to be on the floor and we have to start noticing that the floor is holding us up, that there's at least something underneath us, and start from there. So that's the kind of the preliminary work. And yeah, for some people, you know, that takes lifetimes. And, and these two things happen bit by bit anyway. They kind of— we do a bit more, we need to just feel steady, and then we can do the other thing. And I'm going to talk about— and the other thing I'm going to talk about is being curious. Is being curious about ourselves. Um, and actually that's pretty advanced. It's, uh, you know, the more that I live, the more that I realize is that for people to have the capacity to be genuinely curious about their part in things is really rare. And it is one of the things that we really kind of champion here at Brighter, because I think that people that are able to do that are less likely to be harmful to other people. Not never likely, not never, but it makes it, you know, it makes us safer. But in order to do that, we have to feel steady enough to to acknowledge, to kind of see our, see our shit, see our stuff, see what we're contributing. And when I was thinking about this topic, kindness, I was thinking about my own process over the past few months, really, of coming to see that sometimes when I think I'm being kind What I'm actually doing is prioritizing the needs of the other person in order to feel safe, because that's what I learned growing up, is that if the other person is okay, or as okay as I can make them, then I will be safe. Their needs first, my needs maybe second.
Um, Yeah.
And can I think of an example? Just little examples, like someone says, do you want to come out? And I think they need me to go out. Yes, that will make them happy. They've had a bad time. I'll just go out. And then it might not even be until like after I've gone out that I'm like, how am I? Did I want to go out? How is my energy levels? Actually, I'm really exhausted. I could really have done with not going out. And maybe saying to that person, can we go out in 2 days' time or whatever it is. But what I realized is that my needs weren't even appearing in that moment. They were only appearing later after the thing, maybe weeks afterwards, maybe, you know, a long time afterwards. Um, some of those things that sort of little tiny resentments had kind of built up in the background that I wasn't even aware of. And this is, this is familiar territory for me. I know these things about myself, but, but what I was learning was a new layer of this. I was, I was becoming aware of another layer of my behavior when it comes to people having needs and how I respond to those needs and, and what, what I think is the kind thing to do. Um, and what I'm discovering, or what I'm rediscovering, is that in those situations when someone asks me something and I, I say yes, it may be that the kind thing is to say yes anyway. Sometimes people need things and we just, you know, if someone's in hospital and they say, can you come and, I don't know, take me to hospital? Oh, what's my need right now? I'd really rather have a cup of tea. Sometimes you just need to take the person to hospital and then, you know, deal with the consequences. But often needs that might sound very urgent or might feel very urgent to us, actually that person would survive if we didn't do the thing, whatever it is that they want us to do. So sometimes it is the kind thing to just do the thing without even worrying about what, where we are, what's state we're in. But I kind of trust that over the long run, when it's not the right thing for us to do, it's actually not best for the other person either, um, for, for different reasons. One reason is that what happens to us, that, that, that, um, that there is almost— that there's, there's a little bit of resentment in the response that that person picks up on somehow. Or maybe, you know, a year later we kind of suddenly say, well, I did this for you and I did this for you, and they're like, whoa. But also there's something that's not true about the act for them. There's something for them that actually they're getting something that actually the universe shouldn't be giving them in that moment, cuz it's not right for them to receive that thing. Um, and that might play out in their life. Generally, that they might somehow get things from people when people don't quite want to give them to them, but they just keep getting them. And I don't think that's good for them either. I don't think that that's giving them an opportunity to, uh, to really parent themselves and to, and to be able to, you know, be looked after by the Buddha, to take refuge in the places that are the right places to take refuge. Um, it's a bit more complicated to just describe that one. And you see that in extremis when it comes to kind of codependent behavior, when it comes to an addict who, who has surrounded themselves with people like me who support, who keep them up, prop them up in various ways, make excuses for them, or just kind of, you know, they think, oh, I I know that they didn't do that, but I'm not gonna talk to them about it 'cause that would make them upset. And so we'll just leave it. Or there's this lovely image in Al-Anon of an addict who's like, they're kind of, they're in water, they're in like deep water and there's people all around them just holding them up. Someone's got a leg. So some, the spouse kind of calls work and makes an excuse or the sister sort of, you know, goes round and cleans their house every so often. Or the friend doesn't mention something. All of these people kind of straining to hold the addict above the water. Addict's fine. Addict's like, "Oh, I'm dry, I'm safe, I'm fine." And all the people underneath are like, "Argh!" And I know, yeah, I know it's not fun to be in addiction. So there's, you know, there's, it's complicated, but there is something about the person that's being held out the water that they're fine, they're dry. People underneath are suffering. If they're being kind, when they step away from that person, a leg goes in the water. And when that leg goes in the water, the person's like, oh, I'm wet, I don't like this feeling. Maybe I could do something about this wet leg. Maybe I could make some changes to my life. That's the opportunity. But without that person stepping away, the, the leg doesn't get wet. And it's really hard to watch people suffer, especially if they're loved ones. You know, it's really hard to watch someone with a wet leg who doesn't, you know, know what to do, or who doesn't want to fix it, or who doesn't want to get help, or who's just kind of— that's the bit that's hard. But actually, that for me is the kinder thing to do in the bigger scheme of things. Um, and the person with the wet leg might seek support, some help, you know, some kind of— they might seek ways to become more healthy, or they might find someone else to come in and prop that leg up. And that's up to them. That's their journey. Sometimes it takes many lifetimes for people to, to, to fall in the water. You know, my, my ex and died a couple of years ago now, that he stayed wet— he stayed dry and suffered and died. And I kind of trust that there's always an opportunity, even after someone's died. I just, I don't know, I have no proof for this, but I have some sense that there's always an opportunity to step into the light to, to take that, to, to open to help. But it doesn't— we don't always get to see that with the people we love. And that's tough. That is really tough. But in the way that my ex was dry, I guess that I, I've also been the person that's been in dysfunction. And maybe my dysfunction is a sort of a different variety. I'm the idiot that's in the water. Holding people up. And, um, and actually I'm laughing because there's a great relief in just being able to, to see that and to, um, and to just really be in that first position of, yeah, I really do that. And sometimes it's really not helpful for other people. Sometimes it's, it really harms me in, in all kinds of subtle but in, but kind of profound ways. And there's my opportunity. That's my opportunity to step towards a genuine kindness, to step towards the kind of kindness that I think is being spoken about in this sutta, even though it's, it's written in an idealistic way. This is a description of someone who is not codependent. It's a description of someone who is available for the Buddha's light to just kind of flow through them. And who also is aware of their limits and who, uh, who doesn't say yes to things that they just aren't able to say a wholehearted yes to. Um, and sometimes it's, it's good for the other person when we say no. Sometimes it's just good for us because we can't do it, and it's just— that's just the truth, that's just the reality. And learning the difference between those kind of different things is, is, is a whole lifetime's work, at least. So in a way, if you, if you identify with any of what I'm speaking about, what I'm asking you to do is become less kind, or to at least bring curiosity and compassion to the parts of you that find it hard to give in certain situations or in certain, um, certain requests. Because it's different in different situations, isn't it? Right? Some things are really easy for me to give and some things are less easy. Or some, you know, some people are really easy for me to give to and other people are less easy. Or different times in my life I find it easier or not so easy. But to just bring curiosity to the times when you might be doing the kind of ought, that, that this is what a kind person— what would a kind person do here? Oh, a kind person would do that, so I'll just do that. Um, because I don't think that's what the Buddha wants. I don't think the Buddha wants us to be unkind to ourselves in order to give other people what they need. And the poem I wanted to finish with is a kind of reminder to me of the ways in which we are kind that we may not even know we're being kind, because it's the kind of kindness that just happens. It just sort of slides out of us. I'm thinking about a silent retreat that me and Casper ran decades ago now., and we had a day of silence and there were, I often tell this story, you probably know, I remember the story. And, um, we were in the, we were, we had the day of silence, we ate in silence and said anything about their experience. And this woman kind of started crying and she said, oh, Satya, you did this thing. I'm like, what did I do? What did I do? And at lunch she, she was, she was kind of, she wanted something on the table. I just saw her, I just passed it to her. And she'd been so touched that I'd noticed her need and given her this thing. She just was really overwhelmed. And I hadn't done that thinking, oh, what would the kind thing be? Oh, I really guess keep an eye on everyone's needs. For us, it's that I just saw it and it just happened. Like my hand just gave it. But for her, she was like, she really received me being kind to her. That's the kind of kindness. That we're looking for really is the— Dogen speaks about a pillow that's moved in the night that we don't even know we're doing it, but we see that someone needs a pillow. We just kind of hand it over and the other person's like, ah. And those kinds of moments don't come from ought or effort. They come from compassionate curiosity for ourselves and for others. And from refuge, from really taking deep refuge in the, the jewels that we have available to us as Buddhists and as people. And then the kindness just sort of pops out of us without us even knowing. And other people say, that person's really kind, and they're like, what? I don't even know what you're talking about. I'd love to be that person. So this poem is called 'Small Kindnesses' and it's by Danusha Lameris. I've been thinking about the way when you walk down a crowded aisle, people pull in their legs to let you by, or how strangers still say 'bless you' when someone sneezes. Left over from the bubonic plague. Don't die, we are saying. And sometimes when you spill lemons from your grocery bag, someone else will help you to pick them up. Mostly we don't want to harm each other. We wanted to be handed our cup of coffee hot and to say thank you to the person handing it. To smile at them and for them to smile back. For the waitress to call us honey when she sets down the bowl of clam chowder, and for the driver in the red pickup truck to let us pass. We have so little of each other now, so far from tribe and fire, only these brief moments of exchange. What if they are the true dwelling of the holy, these fleeting temples we make together when we say, here, have my seat, go ahead, you first, I like your hat.
Thank you, Satya.
Thank you, Kasplay.
Excuse me. What Satya is speaking about is a very Mahayana way of understanding kindness and compassion. You know, the, the, the idea of karma in, in Mahayana Buddhism is that, um, you know, in the West when we just say the word karma, we generally think of bad karma, like, oh, I've done something and therefore— well, often we think therefore something is going to happen to me. In a more strictly Buddhist context. It's sort of, oh, I've done something bad, therefore I will continue to be bad, would be a sort of more accurate translation, which will cause me suffering because that's what unskillful actions do, right? When I'm cruel to someone else, I'm also cruel to myself. That's not a pleasant experience. But there's also good karma, and that kind of describes what you're speaking about, which is 'Oh, I'm supposed to do these things, so I'll follow the ideal.' And, um, like, it's not always the end of the world to have a sense of what that is, or to be trained in doing that. As a child that was very dissociated a lot of the time and blank, it was quite helpful for people to, to go, 'Oh, this is the thing that's supposed to happen next.' That was really helpful for me. I was like, 'Okay, now I know where I'm 'Now I know how to exist in this space because someone's told me what the rules are. That was really helpful.' That was them being kind, and it allowed some of my anxiety about just existing in the world to soften. Okay, I know what the rules are. When you act from that place, you do generate merit. But the, the idea is that that then has to become the fuel for a transformation into something else. On its own, it just keeps you in the world of good and bad, and both of those things coming from, uh, thoughts or coming from kind of, uh, self-protection, they're not it. They don't actually bring you closer to the Buddha. There's an old Zen story about a worm crawling inside a piece of bamboo. And you know, bamboo has the segments in. Some of you might know this because I think, uh, I think it's in one of great quick. Gear Maker Baysays books as well. It's a real favorite of mine. So he kind of has to burrow through each segment, this kind of, because they're sort of sealed. And he's like, oh, I'm getting higher, but I'm still in the dark. I'm doing all the right things. I'm putting all this work in. And then I kind of break through and, oh, I'm still in the dark. Segment, and somehow something changes. He decides to try something different, I suppose, and goes sideways out the side. The bamboo's like, oh, here's all the light. And the point is, right, you don't have to climb. Like, if, if, if this, then— and so the collecting merit version of that practice is if you can do it without becoming burnt out, which is tough. If you go all the way to the top of the bamboo, and then probably at some point you break through and there is light also at the top. Although perhaps a more accurate Buddhist version would be that the bamboo is in a circle, right? So you just get back round to where you started. But you don't need to get to the top to turn sideways. You can do that from the bottom. And this is— so this is obviously what Pure Land Buddhism teaches you, that the Buddha is present in any moment. And however foolish we are, however much heavy karma we've got, however cruel we are, however locked into ourselves we are, we can always go sideways. Like, however low down the bamboo we are, we can always go sideways and like, oh, here's the Buddha. But it's not just Pure Pure Land Buddhism, like the whole of Mahayana Buddhism, is based on that insight. Pure Land Buddhism just has a particular way of talking about it. And if you look on the Wheel of Life that's hanging in the shrine room, you— what you'll see is it depicts the six realms of samsara: the human world, the hell realms, the realm of hungry ghosts, the realm of indulgent gods, in the realm of warring gods, and the animal realm. And those are all places of karma. Even the heavenly realms, you know, I've just described them— that is the— really, it's the realm of indulgent gods. We get everything we want to, but like at Christmas afterwards, you're like, now I need to have a break. There's suffering in all of those. And, and we're kind of playing out our habit patterns. You know, they represent different habit patterns, right? I don't like that animals represent greed, but that is, that's how it is on the chart. Most animals are less greedy than humans, I think. But in each of those segments, there is also a Buddha on the Wheel of Life drawn in the corner. And what that's saying is actually, from in the midst of any of these habit patterns, Whatever kind of suffering you're going through, the Buddha is present. You can move, you can take that sideways step like the worm into refuge from the Buddha, and that gives you a completely different experience of yourself and the world. And there's other clues to what this experience is like in Buddhism. I mean, that's the whole point of Buddhism, why it's to give give you clues. One of them comes at the end of the sutta that Satya Robyn read. Yeah, I can see the exact words. This is said to be the sublime abiding. By not holding to fixed views, the pure-hearted one, having clarity of vision, being freed from all sense desires, is not born again. Into this world. So that's a pretty classic Buddhist teaching: don't have any fixed views, don't have any desires. The start of the Faith in Mind, uh, Sutta, which is a Chinese text, it wasn't written by the Buddha, begins, the great way is not difficult, which is a lovely beginning, like, oh, thank God, it's not like all of this stuff at the beginning, like I really have to work at it. No, the great way is not difficult. And then it says simply avoid saying yes and no, which as Satya Robyn described, can be tricky. And it doesn't mean like never say— like when someone offers you a cup of tea, just go, sorry, faith in mind teacher says I can't answer with a yes or no to this. So I guess just figure it out yourself. It means not speaking from a place of holding tightly to anything, of having a fixed view, of grasping. From a more therapeutic point of view, it means like not acting from a trauma response. I listened to a really lovely talk by Zen priest from San Francisco Zen Center this week, Marsha somebody. I should have made a note of her name. Who's that? She's a trauma therapist and a Zen priest, and she was speaking about the fight or flight or fall fawn or freeze impulse. When we're triggered, when something happens in the world that reminds us of some traumatic event, commonly we go up, we have this physiological reaction, and we go to some self-protection strategy. We want to attack, we just want to freeze like the rabbit in the headlights, or we want to fawn, which is about meeting the other people's needs in order to keep ourselves safe. But if you're happy, you won't be upset with me, then I won't be traumatize or flee. But you know, there's lots of different versions of that, but people just like shortlists, particularly shortlists of things that begin with the same letter. Yeah, exactly. Illustrative. Yeah. Yeah. Somebody was really pleased when they realized the word fawn began with an F, let me tell you. What I liked was she described that response as short-sighted, and that is literally what happens when we have a trauma response. All our senses, including the mind sense from the Buddhist point of view, becomes locked onto one narrow thing in the world and figuring out how we should stay safe to it, which usually means some habitual habitual response. We, we sort of become smaller, our bodies change, we become adrenalized, maybe we become tense, and we become less able to— literally less able to see what's around us and just locked onto the threat. Unless we're freezing, then we become locked onto something else so that we don't have to see the threat, but it's a narrowing of focus. And that is the— that is the extreme version of saying yes or no to something. That's what it's describing. And we do that in small ways in our life all the time. We're not speaking from a place of freedom, we're speaking from a place of habit, of, of self-protection, of codependence. But it's not, it's not from a genuine place of authenticity, of naturalness, of spontaneity. It's from this slightly narrowed view. And, and the more extreme the trigger, the narrower the view. The, the view gets the narrower, the responses, the more grasping there is. But probably in ordinary life we're doing some level of grasping most of the time. And Marsha's suggestion was just pause for 10 breaths or 2 minutes, like, like a little mini zazen moment. Notice how you're doing physiologically. And then there's a kind of undermining the threat response in that. And what that does is it, it means we can look around more easily again and go, oh, I've actually got more choices here than I realized previously. This is the steadiness that you talked about. As Pure Land Buddhists, we remember that Buddha— oh, I ex— you know, taking refuge in Amida Buddha means that existentially, like spiritually, I'm safe. I know I'm loved regardless of what happens in my life, so I don't need to be so worried about these big things. They can't take away the Buddha's love. In remembering that, there's a sort of softening, and that brings more spaciousness, and it brings more choice. And the kind of kindness that you described where you don't know what you're doing it, like pouring a jug or dogen. I wonder maybe if it's his own hand in the night adjusting his pillow without him knowing it. I mean, he was a monk, he shouldn't have been sleeping with somebody else. But who knows, right? They were in dormitories, maybe it was his friends. Pillow. This is the kind— this, this comes from a place of like, no, it— as the poem says, as the sutra, uh, Faith in Mind Sutra says, of no yes. It isn't yes or no. It's just like, I'm just acting, I'm just responding with kindness. We can sometimes think that like, oh, if there's good karma and bad karma, then what's the third thing? Must be kind of neutrality. But it, it isn't. Like, in— I remember being really confused when I read Rumi's poem the first time. There's a field beyond good and bad, I'll meet you there. I'm like, well, no, no, meet me in the good field, that's where I'll be. And probably at that time I was putting a lot of effort into being in the good field, right? But there is a place beyond the good field and the bad field. Because that goodness is the one that comes from short-sightedness and judging and trying to figure out what's going to keep me safe in the same way that the bad field does. And what's beyond that is the Buddha's open heart, which is naturally compassionate but without calculation. I mean, there's a place for wisdom there's a place for seeing things clearly and figuring out what is the best response here. But even that comes from a sort of foundation of trusting, and a foundation of trusting the Buddha's love, that existentially I'm going to be okay. It's not a calculation based on what do I need to be safe, it's a calculation based on what is good for the benefit of all beings. And that's what true kindness is. It isn't about how can I just make this other person safe, how can I just make myself safe. It's about what is for the benefit of all beings. The other thing, another thing that came to mind when Satya was speaking was that, uh, I think it's Rev. Anderson who said I think it's around at Rev Anderson, his book about precepts, which mostly I really like. There was one phrase I thought, oh, I'm not sure about that, where he says it's the— so he's in the Zen tradition— it's the Zen teacher's job to pull the rug from under their disciples, and then to, when they kind of collapse on the floor, as you described, and then it's the teacher's job to help them back up to their feet again. But he— and actually I'm like, well, you know what, guys, life is going to pull the rug from under you. I don't need to get involved in doing that most of the time. But there is something about like, oh, but as you said, both of those things can be a kindness. And it's not that we just do one or the other, that yeah, the rug's been pulled from somebody How do we create the conditions for them to then notice? So here is the ground beneath me, here is the sky above me, here is the Buddha's love present in this moment. How can I go forward from this place with a deeper refuge? And you know, sometimes that means offering very practical assistance. The Bodhisattva prayer— I wanted to do Yesterday I was like, oh, give this talk about the Shantideva's Bodhisattva Way of Life, which is a text that I really love, but I haven't read it for properly for years, and I didn't quite feel prepared to do it. But in that text, a lot of emphasis is on how kind— what kindness and compassion really are is helping other people take refuge in Buddhism, helping other people wake up to true spiritual reality. And that is an emphasis of Buddhist teaching, and it is why, like, a lot of the work I do is in keeping this place running in different ways, and, and in helping people have an experience of coming into the shrine room and being in practice, which, like, it often doesn't look like typical kindness, right? Asking someone to make sure the bookkeeping keep things up to date before the trustee meeting. Well, you're just annoying people. But there is a—
that—
but it's for the benefit of all beings, because I believe it's a kindness to create a temple in the center of town. But those— that isn't— so that is really important. But I, I was pleased to note, as a kind of engaged Buddhist, I was pleased to know when I went back to Shantideva's prayer yesterday, that it also is about caring for people in practical ways as well. He prays that there will be a good harvest and that people should be freed from illness, and all of those things are included in kindness as well. So it isn't— yeah, and, and It isn't that we— all of those things can be spiritual gift. Take, you know, taking care of somebody the way the Buddha told off somebody who wasn't caring for a sick elder in their community. Like, the Dharma isn't just something for ourselves that makes us feel good and we go, oh, I've got it now, I feel like I've taken refuge. Like, it has to become active in the world in some way so that we do notice and hand the jug to somebody, or move the pillow, or take care of the sick person, or step up to do the accounts, or make the tea after practice. And so there's this sort of creative tension, right, between, as you say, here are all the ideals all the ways in which I can be good, all the ways in which the world is inviting me to be good. And often, like, just trying those out is a good practice. Like, I'm going to try and be a bit kinder this week. But also, more importantly, the teaching of, but I can't— if I just fake it to make it, at some point that has to change into the— into this real open heart of the Buddha. At some point I have to burrow sideways through the bamboo. I can't, I can't just be good because I want to be in Rumi's field of goodness. I have to go beyond that into this space of genuinely taking refuge in the Buddha, where the embodied sense of acting from that place is completely different. That's why I love that description of short-sightedness and the kind of physiological things that Martha was Marsha was speaking about, because there is a kind of physical narrowing in that kind of goodness, whereas the goodness of the Buddha is expansive and spontaneous and creative and playful. And, and you can do all of the things in that list from either one of those places, but the invitation is, is as you immerse yourself in the Buddha's light, to, to more and more have the experience of expansiveness rather than contractedness. So we'll, uh,
