Emotional energy pervades the whole of existence, and compassion is the foremost of these energies. It’s the higher love that surpasses all petty emotions, so that the very world itself actually nurtures life in all its forms.
The Vancouver area experienced a seasonal miracle of sorts recently—the return of the salmon for spawning. Returning salmon face innumerable dangers. By the time they arrive at their streams of origin, they’ve normally suffered numerous injuries. Many others die on the journey, perhaps eaten by other fish or animals. To see them teaming up the stream is a powerfully moving sight. How can a fish be so driven, ignoring its own bodily survival? Free of any inhibition while returning to its birth place? These fish don’t stay in little waterways or inlets, either. They travel out in to the Pacific Ocean, crossing over to Japan and China, completing a circuit. It can’t be easy, and shows that animal determination can be as strong as humanity’s in its way.
Twenty years ago, I watched a Japanese movie that followed the real lives of a family of wolves. I found it really moving, and even cried at one point. The wolves were highly aware, and often seemed smarter than the humans. The people who lived in the same area as the animals wanted to kill them and set traps. But the wolves seemed to know very clearly what was going on. Then winter arrived and one of the little wolf cubs got sick. It was very cold and there was no food to be found in the thick snow. The hunter and his family were fine: they raised chickens, and eat their meat for sustenance. They even had a chicken to spare… one to lure the wolves to a spot surrounded by traps.
You should have seen the father wolf pace back and forth along the perimeter of the hunter’s property. His body language was as clear as speech. He knew! It’s as though you could read his thoughts: “The danger ahead is great, and there is no way through.”
Still, as though thinking of his cubs’ pain and hunger, he placed his paw ahead, then pulled it back. Over and over, the act was repeated. Finally, he ventured ahead, trepidation in every step. It wasn’t an act of self-destruction, but of necessity—needing the chicken for his off-spring.
He made it across and grabbed the fowl in his jaws. Still, on the way back, he lost his tracks and stepped into one of the traps. Rear-leg caught, he struggled with the desperation of a creature seeing death. There was no way to free it. Eventually, the wolf tore away, leaving his limb in the trap’s heavy jaws. Dragging himself forward through the snow by his front legs, he hauled himself halfway back to his den before dying of the blood loss. It was a very emotional story, and I don’t think anyone could watch it without being affected.
I believe that there is so much about animals that we don’t understand—and yet, we share so much in common, so many of the same feelings.
Just a year ago, I saw a documentary on how emotional communication affects plant growth. Even though it wasn’t nearly as easy to relate to as the first story, it revealed some fascinating truths all the same. In a six-stage experiment, plants were subjected to different stimuli by their caretakers: different genres of music were played to one group of plants; another group was given praise; while a third group was subjected to verbal abuse. The abused group wouldn’t grow properly; when it did, its growth was sickly and yellowed. The praised plants grew thick, and the music-listening plants did exceptionally well—all of which only reinforces the point that emotions are not necessarily exclusive to humanity… they appear to exist in everything.
The concept of “yin-yang” has held its importance in traditional Chinese philosophy since ancient times. With regard to the question of the creation of the “myriad of things” [everything in existence], it is believed that it resulted from emotive expression. So, everything that belongs to the universe holds a specific emotion at the core: the higher love that Chinese tradition labels “compassion,” an emotion that surpasses all others.
Compassion is broadening for the heart and mind. That breadth allows us to avoid entanglement in hardship, so that we are neither controlled by our worries, nor suffer because of them.
Compassion has many effects, but the greatest are health-related: better physical and mental health. These manifest in the form of happiness and good fortune.
How does this emotional state accomplish so much?
Compassion is broadening for the heart and mind. That breadth allows us to avoid entanglement in hardship, so that we are neither controlled by our worries, nor suffer because of them. A broad heart-mind has the ability to see the uselessness of troublesome things.
I’ve been retelling a story of the poor man whose mother-in-law demanded he buy her daughter a diamond ring. I suggested that he get a nice ring, but one with a fake diamond. If that mother-in-law had been governed by compassion, her thought process might have been more along these lines: “My daughter loves this man, and my love for her means that my affection naturally extends to him—he’s going to be my son: why would I want to add this heavy burden to his load? What good would that do?” If she used compassion to put herself in his shoes, then the issue would never have come up. She would neither feel great joy at seeing the diamond on her daughter’s finger, nor great bitterness upon learning that it’s fake. Her love isn’t true… True love is like the purest of water, and it seems she’s polluted hers.
Who is the most hurt by her lack of generosity? By her pettiness that exemplifies a deficiency of love? Most wounded is the person most affected: the mother-in-law herself. Not to mention how she’s also seriously undermining her daughter’s happiness. The affect she has on her daughter’s marriage may cause them to question their love, rather than enjoy it. Conflict and break-ups become more likely.
Building a relationship is like building a bridge. If rotting beams are used in the construction, it’s going to collapse. The “when” may be unclear, but the eventual collapse is not—the slightest pressure applied at the right moment will do it.
A pretty dangerous bridge indeed.
What do you think the mother is lacking?
Compassion.
It doesn’t allow love to be too small or selfish. So, her “love” would never allow her to ruin the new couple’s happiness. Lack of compassion can instigate hardships and grasping. The presence of compassion brings with it a power of perspective in dealing with matters. So if she’d adopted a compassionate perspective, then she’d have known—without a doubt—that true happiness cannot be measured in terms of finances. In fact, wrapped in real happiness, two people can live as beggars and still feel blessed.
Broadness of compassion also helps prevent numerous illnesses. This is because of an increase in our ability to assess what we observe and to perceive it clearly. Many of the little things that normally inflame people can be clearly seen from a distance, and therefore easily avoided. With that avoidance, we escape harming both ourselves and others. With a broader heart-mind, I am relatively free from some of the affects of fatigue, or finding myself in other common negative circumstances. I’m less likely to be diagnosed with high blood-pressure, or cardio-vascular disease. I won’t easily suffer shock, or feelings of fright. This also means that I am side-stepping negative emotions and reactions that contribute to the development of illness. Many people who grow ill are living with the effects of a shock that caused kidney damage; or a great moment of rage that injured their liver.
How did your liver get infected?
Possibly, it was rage.
We often feel sympathy for people facing hardship. And yet when we learn the reasons they suffer, we may feel the hardship is well-deserved. However, even if their hardship is due to a wickedness they’ve committed, when truly imbued with compassion we wish harm to no one.
Can life be free of pain?
In China there is a saying: “Those who avoid acts that may trouble the heart need fear no ghastly midnight knocking.” [A clear conscious sleeps soundly.]
So, I fear no knocking.
It makes sense, because after we do something that evokes feelings of shame, we enter a state of agitation and sleep poorly. Lacking sleep, certain conditions arise: headaches, trigeminal neuralgia (the suicide disease), even stomach, kidney and brain-related issues can all be traced back to sleep disorders. Again, opening your heart and applying compassion to the world is the key, and the health benefits can be your primary motivation.
A broad xin brimming with compassion makes it possible to experience the wonder of the world—a rare and exquisitely joyful experience.
Another motive could relate to the Chinese concept of xin [pronounced “shin”]. The basic meaning of xin is “heart,” but it traditionally represents the faculties of both emotional and thought energy—sometimes this is referred to as the “heart-mind.” If we broaden the xin in our dealings with the natural world, our working lives, or in any context, then we enter into peacefully compassionate and amiable state.
Imagine you’re on the street, and someone bumps into you. You have the opportunity to think something positive like, “I guess we were meant to connect at that moment.” After all, it was a coincidence, not an intentional act. Maybe if you happened across that person again, you’d form a friendship. All from an accidental encounter; the key would be your state of heart-mind.
Sometimes, youths bump into each other and start fighting. They fight until someone has a broken nose, or worse. This just shows how knocking into someone accidentally, which could herald a positive, fated moment of connection, can suddenly become ill-fated. So much harm can come from blowing a small thing out of proportion negatively. But when we carry compassion into all our dealings, then any encounter, generated by either good fortune or bad, can become an exceptionally positive opportunity to connect with society and the world.
Pretty wonderful stuff.
When your xin is full of compassion, it ensures that your interactions with others will be beneficial. One of the reasons for this is that when someone needs your help, you don’t even consider the personal losses or gains. Instead, you instantly perceive the beauty in the person requesting the aid… their goodness and compassion illuminate them in your eyes. Additionally, the compassion in you will make the wondrous qualities in others shine more brightly.
Who enjoys interacting with those who only point out their faults: “My, your jaw is awfully short—wouldn’t it be better longer?” Or, “Hey, that’s a pretty nice outfit you’ve got on today! Too bad your legs and weight aren’t right for it. Maybe after losing some weight and getting high-heels?”
If someone talked to you like that, you probably wouldn’t see them in a positive light. Your xin would be operating under the impression that the world was against you. Whenever you consider others, you do it via sensory organs; if the impression that you receive through those organs is a negative one, it is that your heart-mind lacks breadth.
It’s like a water pipe, and our emotional input is like water. A wide pipe will easily drain the water poured from a big bucket. A tiny pipe would take hours to do the same job, causing an unhealthy backlog.
In life too, everything is remarkably easier to deal with when your xin is broad and open. The narrower the perspective, the less generous the xin, the more people’s barbs come out. It’s like sitting next to someone in a meditation retreat and deciding to ignore them because they’re too ugly, because you’re afraid to be associated with them. If you can’t find any good in the person sitting right next to you, then what good will you find anywhere?
Take hardwood floors for example, if you are negatively focused, then maybe they seem too slippery—a real bother. Wouldn’t it be better if we put down carpet? But if we had carpeting, then you could fixate on the bacterial content and refuse to sit down anyways. Somehow people feel that thinking in these negative terms will force the world to accommodate their perspective! Truth be told, that kind of xin never allows for satisfaction—it is set on the negative and dissatisfied. Conversely, a broad xin brimming with compassion makes it possible to experience the wonder of the world—a rare and exquisitely joyful experience.
Compassion reconnects us with nature by reopening communication channels. It does the same thing between people, and all other living things.
To my mind, the spirit of compassion and charitableness can be explained like this: you find a stone—not a smooth, polished specialty shop stone… just a normal, everyday rock. And yet you fully perceive how truly beautiful it is. Same for the earth, weeds, flowers, and everything else in nature. It’s undeniably beautiful.
Sometimes, we go out on fieldtrips. I might want to sit down, and it isn’t uncommon for someone to stop me: “Teacher, you need a blanket or you’ll get dirty!”
They think that the grass is dirty, but I think that the grass is probably cleaner than their synthetic city clothes. More natural, certainly.
Maybe that’s why I feel that I need to touch the earth regularly. To feel its permeating nourishment. It’s good to go out and get in touch with nature—really physically touch it. Most of us try that by driving sheltered in a car, wearing the thickest shoes and two layers of socks… maybe with something to cover our faces. People go out to connect with nature wrapped up like mummies. Pretty counter-productive. It is a matter of heart… of openness. There simply isn’t enough.
When our inner hearts are open and accepting, it benefits our overall understanding of not just nature, but everything. Great acts and thoughts derived from compassion can release the innate power in items and people who seem otherwise useless, or even toxic. That’s one of the reasons that compassion reconnects us with nature, reopening communication channels—it does the same thing between people, and all other living things.
Taking it to the next logical step, the widened, compassionate xin opens the way for opportunity as well. The amount by which an individual benefits is only limited by the width of their individual xin.
Some wonder, “If I make my xin as large and as open as the sky, will I then have limitless success?”
It’s sort of like that in all truth.
According to the history of Emperor Han Wudi’s mother was a cruel and small-minded woman. She struggled viciously to have her son ascend to the throne. She then endeavoured with her brother to claim a large section of farmland from the peasants, even though she wasn’t a farmer, and had no idea what to do with the land. She simply desired clear title over it.
When her son, the emperor, heard of what she’d done, he was furious. He demanded she explain herself.
“My son,” she answered, “what I did, I did in your name.”
“Everything beneath heaven belongs to me, what need have I to specifically claim a section of peasant farmland?”
“You can’t hold on to everything in the world. Only the things you carve your name into are truly yours.”
“You’re wrong, mother. This entire kingdom already lies within my palm. How can it be beyond my reach? You yourself have been ennobled as empress. Anything you desire is brought to you. Carving your name into a hunk of earth within our dominion is meaningless.”
Han Wendi’s mother never really understood—never overcame the flaw in her thinking. Simply put, her xin was too small.
From a position of peerless authority and prestige, she set herself against peasant farmers. She made them her opponents. It’s as though hearing how much land the imperial officials lived on, she felt the need to go out and claim as much for herself. She’d even claimed some for her son, the emperor. Actually claimed land for him in his own empire. It’s laughable. It’s as if her family owned a big house, and she’d carved “This is mine” on the dining room table. Ridiculous. Even things you hold in your hands, or write on won’t necessarily always be yours. Looking back on her now, we all see how foolish she was, but she was too involved in her own selfish narrowness. If someone told her that they owned a thousand mou (67 hectars) of land, she would compare it to her own thousand qing (15130 hectars) and still be jealous. No matter how high she rose, her point of reference remained petty.
Without access to a higher reference point, no one can become a true leader, one who nurtures nations, enriches the people, and links them to the divine! I feel that everyone, from officials and business people to manual laborers should try to look a little further—have a little more perspective.
It molded me until I could accept its essential truth without inner conflict. I’d been a knife, a fighting tool, and my xin, a millstone. It wore away my sharp edges… wore away the weapon I had been till there was no knife left at all.
One day, there were two Buddhist scholars in my class. They were notable because they seemed to be utterly emotionless—apathetic. It was as though they were wholly removed from the feelings of others. Perhaps they feared the harm that emotions could wreak. I told them what I thought. That they likely believed sequestering their hearts would prevent destructive emotions and selfish passions… but they were merely suppressing emotions that were actually there regardless.
Is it right to live a life devoid of emotions?
To be truly alive and truly human, we must know feeling.
If I myself felt only apathy, there would have been no class that day. No one present would have benefited.
Feel!
I believe that my emotions are very important. Without emotional connection, how would the Western god have offered himself to save the world? Why would the spirits of the East have sworn to free us from the suffering of Samsara? These acts were emotively inspired, but not by any random emotion. The difference lies in the kind: the limited versus expansive. That’s the only difference. Like the difference between a light-bulb and the sun. Both illuminate, but the range of the second surpasses all confines. It’s a light shared with the whole of the world. In the same way, all true emotion comes from compassion. Without it, without feeling, without love, there would be no sun to warm the world. No moon. No life.
I’d like to mention here that I don’t self-cultivate just for self-cultivation’s sake—I’ve always had objectives.
My first objective was to relieve my physical suffering. My second was to develop skills that would free other people from the suffering of the world. Lastly, when I had understood the dharma and absorbed much of life’s pain, I did it to access immeasurable strength.
When I was young, I also underwent extreme training in the martial arts. My hands were like bricks. If I hit something, it broke. But so many things that appeared fragile could still injure me under any number of circumstances… like if something small fell on my head for example. Imagine something falling on my head. So, I realized that even though I had a powerful physique, I was still entirely vulnerable. After all my martial arts training, I understood how much strong muscle failed to protect me from so much—emotional onslaughts in particular. In so many ways, I was as vulnerable as ever I had been. Then I understood that true and lasting health had to come from the spirit itself. That a spiritual broadness could offer physical benefits as well as psychological ones. I could live without fear.
That’s how I developed my third self-cultivation objective, and I knew what I had to do become stronger.
I used to have a lot of real enemies, you see. But I saw the foolishness of it. If you have enemies, then you will be harmed beyond a doubt. It draws harm to you. At long last, my xin destroyed my “opposition perspective,” for it had no enemies. It molded me until I could accept its essential truth without internal conflict. I’d been a knife, a fighting tool, and my xin, a millstone. It wore away my sharp edges… wore away the weapon I had been, till there was no knife left.
My hands are not knives now. There are no daggers left in my heart. Now, I am able to look on people without feeling enmity, because I see the good in everyone. And so I enjoy true inner peace. It’s as though my xin is a mountain stream that flows into nature, bringing total tranquility where it wanders.
I am safe from harm in the ultimate sense. I’m not saying that I cut myself off from all feeling… that I cloistered my heart and can neither love, or be loved. I mean that I feel goodness for everyone I meet. I have that power. And the strength not to be carried into selfishness, even when it’s disguised as “love.”
A person like that still has feelings.
For example, a man with this power can still fall for a beautiful, intelligent woman. But she remains her own person in his eyes. He remains a separate person, too. He could not be consumed by negative passions that would harm either of them. The possessiveness is gone. Like seeing an enchanting tree on the side of the road. It’s beautiful and you can appreciate it without needing to possess it. Without needing to drag it out of the ground, rip out its roots and take it home… Selfish love motivates such acts, even when it may cause the tree’s harm or demise.
A tree like that is already perfectly beautiful where it is.
Wealth and material possessions, most of their benefit to us is actually produced in our minds. We are the source, rather than the external object in question. If we make the error of thinking that happiness comes from possessing objects, then we spend all our time fighting for things.
Imagine four different people all showing up at the same time to dig up that poor tree, each hoping to haul it home. Whoever managed to get it, even if it wasn’t killed, would have to defend it constantly. The others would constantly seek to steal it. It would be exhausting. And if you lost it, you’d be enraged. What good does any of that do?
Instead, you can simply enjoy the moment offered as you pass the tree on the street, allowing others to do the same. No harm. No pain. Not to mention the gradual cultivation of less and less selfishness. Let the crow fly free and the fish swim in the ocean, and then everyone is happier. Simply avoid bringing troublesome things into your home... either the one within or without.
Compassion produces a particular energy, and compassion-made action produces an unlimited amount of that energy. A compassionate heart-mind (xin) is the means by which to access limitless energy.
How does an average person begin to develop that special kind of compassion?
It starts with a single act of goodness—no need to rank it as large or small; no need to consider any personal benefit from the act. It should be performed blind to personal benefit, or the status of the individual aided. Put your kindness into action with a sense of freedom. Without want or need. A good approach might be to keep a monthly journal, recording your acts, both the positive and the less-than-ideal. Like a personal record of merit and karma. Make a daily habit of noting how these acts, particularly the kind ones, affect you psychologically.
Many times after I’ve helped someone, I get to see how much better my help has made things for them. When I see their happiness, I feel great joy. I think I am even happier than they are. So, often the happiest of all are those who enjoy helping people. It’s one reason that doing good for others is so wonderful for the self. Additionally, there’s the fact that the people we help then think and speak well of us. They wish us well, and this creates a wonderful energy that benefits us, and spreads to benefit our children and grand-children.
Every single person, even the most common individual, benefits from considering actions in light of their future fruits. Not just for themselves, but for their descendants. Of course there are many levels to this—in terms of family reputation, good fortune and so on. It’s sort of like putting money aside for your children to inherit: merit [positive karma] can also be put aside. At the same time, you are passing on positive behaviours. It’s a matter of education, of avoiding disastrous excess and thinking forward. Seeking to follow those concepts in life benefits you and your immediate circle, then passes that positivity on.
So when we help others, we develop better interpersonal relationships, because our xin loses its internal saboteurs—bitterness, maliciousness, destructiveness all dissipate.
This process can even be extended to business-terms. Buying only good quality product at good prices ensures few returns. Accepting returned items graciously encourages people to buy without worry. Customers feel assured of the excellence your goods, and the easy resolution of any difficulties. It’s an obvious formula for repeat customers and overall success. Trying to cheat clients creates a lot of bad energy around your business, and makes people hesitant to buy… even if you have what they want. This too can be seen as a difference in breadth of xin. The larger the xin, the more likely successful business will continue, and the better for the business-owner over all.
What we call “compassion” produces a particular energy, and compassion-made action produces an unlimited amount of that energy. A compassionate heart-mind (xin) is the means by which to access limitless energy. A compassionate xin connects to the compassionate energies of the whole universe.
There is an equivalency of proportions between the breadth of your xin and the amount of energy you access. Even the smallest things matter… the big picture alone isn’t always enough. This world isn’t formed of big things, but details—finer things. So, the finer your awareness, the greater your ability to connect to the world.
Whenever I sing or play the Qin, I send the music to the finest material level of the body, influencing energy meridians. It sets the soul to dancing. That’s why some people feel so affected… so benefited. In part, it is a matter of tantric teaching. It’s an energy that accelerates the basic human ability to advance and succeed. A longer, renewed life results. All this is the power of compassion.
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