Don't Worry, Be Grumpy Page 3

  “Would you please come to my house today to perform a blessing?” the caller asked.

  “I’m sorry,” replied the monk, “I can’t come because I’m busy.”

  “What are you doing?” inquired the caller.

  “Nothing,” replied the monk. “That is what monks are supposed to be doing.”

  “Okay,” said the caller and hung up.

  The lay Buddhist called again the following day. “Would you please come to my house today to perform a blessing?”

  “I’m sorry,” replied the monk, “I can’t come because I’m busy.”

  “What are you doing?” asked the caller.

  “Nothing,” replied the monk.

  “But that was what you were doing yesterday!” the caller complained.

  “Yes,” replied the monk, “but I’m not finished yet.”

  17. Old Monks Don’t Lie

  Every year, Buddhist monks of my tradition stop traveling and stay in one place for the three-month “rains retreat.”

  An old wandering monk arrived at the door of a poor farmer’s cottage a few days before the start of the rains retreat. The husband, though poor, was a devout Buddhist and, having offered the monk some food, asked the monk to stay nearby for the retreat.

  “I can build a simple hut for you, Venerable Sir, in a quiet meadow next to the river, and my wife will be happy to provide you with food. All that we ask is for you to teach us and guide us in meditation from time to time.”

  The old monk agreed.

  Over the next three months, the farmer, his wife, and even their children got to love that wise and kindly old monk. So much so that at the end of the rains retreat, when the old monk told them he was leaving, the whole family cried and begged the old monk to stay.

  “I cannot stay any longer,” said the old monk. “However, because you have looked after me so well, I want to help you in return. A few days ago, in a very deep meditation, I saw that there is a huge treasure buried nearby. I want you to have it. Please listen carefully, follow my instructions, and you will never be poor again.”

  The whole family stopped crying. They listened intently. They believed that monk, because old monks don’t lie.

  “Stand at the threshold of your little cottage at dawn. Take up your bow and one arrow. Point the bow in the direction of the rising sun, and when the sun appears over the horizon, let the arrow fly. Where the arrow falls, there you will find the treasure.”

  The old monk left that evening. The following morning, the whole family was so excited that they were up well before dawn. The farmer stood at the threshold of his cottage with his bow and one arrow. His wife was carrying the spade. The sun, it seemed that morning, took forever to rise above the horizon, but when it finally rose, the farmer shot the arrow in the direction of the sun, and they all ran after it. When they reached the place where it fell, he told his wife to dig a hole. Deeper and deeper, she dug.

  What did she find? Nothing! Only trouble! The arrow had landed in a field belonging to a rich man, and he caught them red-handed.

  “You can’t dig a hole in other people’s property!” shouted the rich man at the poor wife. “I’ll sue you! I’ll send you straight to jail!”

  “It’s his fault,” pleaded the wife, pointing to her husband. “He told me to dig here.”

  “It’s the old monk’s fault,” said the husband. “He promised that we would find a treasure here.”

  “Old monk?” queried the rich man. “Well, old monks don’t lie. What did he say to you?”

  “Stand at the threshold of your little cottage at dawn. Take up your bow and one arrow. Point the bow in the direction of the rising sun, and when the sun appears over the horizon, let the arrow fly. Where the arrow falls, there you will find the treasure.”

  Having been told the old monk’s instructions, the rich man exclaimed, “Oh, I know where you’ve gone wrong! Look at yourself, farmer. You’re so poorly fed that you’re too weak to shoot an arrow properly. I’ll make a deal with you. Tomorrow, I will shoot the arrow from your cottage and, when we find the treasure, we’ll split it fifty-fifty.”

  The farmer had little choice but to agree. So the following morning the rich man was holding the bow and arrow at the threshold, waiting for the sun to rise, and the husband was holding the spade. (It was his karma to dig today because he had made his wife dig yesterday!) When the sun appeared over the horizon, the rich man shot the arrow. It went much farther. They all ran after the arrow and, where it landed, the husband dug a big hole.

  What did he find? Nothing! Only more trouble! The arrow had landed in a plot of land belonging to a general, and he captured them.

  “You can’t destroy my land!” screamed the general. “I’ll order my soldiers to cut off your heads!”

  “It’s his fault,” pleaded the farmer, pointing to the rich man. “He told me to dig here.”

  “It’s the old monk’s fault,” said the rich man. “He promised that we would find a treasure here.”

  “Old monk?” queried the general. “Well, old monks don’t lie. What did he say to you?”

  “Stand at the threshold of your little cottage at dawn. Take up your bow and one arrow. Point the bow in the direction of the rising sun, and when the sun appears over the horizon, let the arrow fly. Where the arrow falls, there you will find the treasure.”

  Having listened to the old monk’s instructions, the general declared, “Oh, I know where you’ve all gone wrong! What does a civilian know about shooting an arrow? Only a trained soldier like me can use a bow. I’ll make a deal with you. Tomorrow, I’ll shoot the arrow from your cottage, and when we find the treasure, we’ll split it evenly three ways.”

  So the following morning the general was holding the bow and arrow at the threshold, waiting for the sun to rise, and the rich man was holding the spade. It was his karma to dig today. When the sun appeared over the horizon, the general expertly shot the arrow. It went a very long way. They all ran after the arrow, and where it landed, the rich man had to dig a big hole.

  What did he find? Nothing! Only more trouble! The arrow had landed in the garden of the royal palace, and the king’s guards arrested all of them. Soon they were brought bound in chains before the king.

  “It is a capital offence to destroy the royal garden,” said the king. “What is the meaning of this?”

  “It’s his fault, Sire,” said the general, pointing to the rich man.

  “It’s his fault, Your Majesty,” said the rich man, pointing to the farmer.

  “It’s that old monk’s fault, Your Highness,” pleaded the farmer. “He said that we would find a treasure.”

  “Old monk?” queried the king. “Well, old monks don’t lie. What did he say to you?”

  “Stand at the threshold of your little cottage at dawn. Take up your bow and one arrow. Point the bow in the direction of the rising sun, and when the sun appears over the horizon, let the arrow fly. Where the arrow falls, there you will find the treasure.”

  When the king heard the old monk’s instructions, he couldn’t figure out what had gone wrong. So he sent out his soldiers to find that old monk and bring him back to the palace to explain. The monk was soon found and brought before the king.

  “Old monk,” said the king with respect. “You’ve got all these people into big trouble with your buried-treasure story. Explain yourself.”

  “Your Majesty, it is not a story. Old monks don’t lie,” explained the old monk. “They didn’t find the treasure because they didn’t listen.”

  “What part of the instructions didn’t they follow?” asked the king, intrigued.

  “Your Highness, why don’t you come to the poor farmer’s cottage tomorrow? I will show you how they all failed to follow my instructions. I will guarantee that you’ll find the treasure, but I would ask that it be divided equally four ways between Your Majesty, the general, the rich man, and the farmer.”

  The king assented.

  So it was that the farmer and
his family, the rich man, the general, the old monk, and the king, were at the farmer’s cottage early the next day. The old monk repeated the instructions.

  “Stand at the threshold of your little cottage at dawn. Take up your bow and one arrow. Point the bow in the direction of the rising sun and, when the sun appears over the horizon, let the arrow fly. Where the arrow falls, there you will find the treasure.”

  As the king was standing at the threshold of the little cottage at dawn, he turned to the old monk for confirmation.

  “Correct, Your Majesty,” said the old monk.

  The king took up the bow and one arrow.

  “Correct, Your Majesty.”

  The king pointed the bow in the direction of the rising sun.

  “Correct again, Your Majesty.”

  When the sun appeared over the horizon, the king was about to shoot the arrow when the old monk shouted, “Stop! Incorrect, Your Majesty.”

  The king stopped and stared at the old monk in confusion.

  “Listen, Your Majesty. ‘Let the arrow fly.’”

  The king paused, repeating the words in his mind. Then, he began to smile. He had understood.

  The king let go of the arrow and it flew straight down, landing right between his two feet, right where he was standing.

  A shallow hole was dug, and they found such a large treasure that one quarter of it was enough to satisfy a king, not to mention the general and the rich man. How much more did it satisfy the poor farmer and his family!

  The old monk further explained that when you shoot the “arrow of craving,” aiming to find happiness, you usually find nothing, only more trouble. But if you let go of the arrow of wanting, it falls right where you are standing, in the here and now. There you will find the treasure of contentment, more than enough to satisfy even a king.

  I can confirm this, because I’m an old monk, and old monks don’t lie!

  18. The Most Important Finger

  The five fingers were arguing over who was the most important.

  “I am the most important,” said the thumb, “because I am the strongest. Also, when people approve of something they use me. I am the ‘OK’ finger!”

  “No way!” said the index finger. “I am the most important. I am the finger of wisdom because I am used to point out things. Moreover, when people want to say ‘number 1,’ they use me.”

  “Ridiculous!” sneered the middle finger. “I am the biggest finger and can therefore see farther. I am so powerful that when people lift me up, others get very upset. Moreover, the Buddha taught that the way to enlightenment is the middle way, and I am the middle finger.”

  “I’m sorry but you are wrong,” said the fourth finger kindly. “I am the most important because I am the finger of love. When people fall in love and get engaged, they put the ring on me. When they commit to care for each other in marriage, again they place the ring on me. I am the finger of love, love is the most powerful force in the world, and therefore I am the most important finger.”

  “Excuse me,” interrupted the small finger. “I know that I am not tall or strong and am often ignored, but I believe that I am the most important finger. Although people use me to do dirty jobs, like removing wax from their ears, when they pray to the Buddha, I am always closest to the Buddha! Raise your hands, pray, and you will see.”

  In any community, family, or temple, the humble members who do the cleaning are the most important because, like the little finger, they are closest to the Buddha.

  19. Describing Anxiety

  I received a phone call from a student at Adelaide University. She had an acute case of anxiety. It was so bad that she was bedridden and terrified to go outside. The university doctors and psychologists had been unable to help her. So her uncle, a regular supporter of my monastery, told her to give me a call.

  She told me over the phone that she had been bedridden for many weeks. She was managing thanks to her boyfriend, who cooked, cleaned, and did all other errands for her. Boyfriends like that are hard to find! Then I asked her, “Where on your body do you feel the anxiety when it occurs?”

  “What do you mean?” she answered confused.

  “Every emotion,” I explained, “has a corresponding physical feeling. So where do you feel the anxiety?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied.

  “Well, find out and give me a call back when you can tell me.”

  A few days later, she called to tell me that she noticed a feeling in her middle chest, just below her breast.

  “Describe that feeling to me,” I asked.

  “I can’t,” she replied.

  “Well, give me a call back when you can describe it to me.”

  Three or four days later, she called and gave a surprisingly detailed description of the feeling in her chest that occurred whenever she had an anxiety attack.

  “Very good,” I complimented. “Now whenever you notice that physical feeling begin, put your hand on your chest and massage that area with as much kindness as you can generate for as long as you can. If you can’t manage that in your current state, then get your boyfriend to massage that area for you. That’s what boyfriends are for! And give me another call in a few days’ time.”

  When she called, I asked her what happened to the physical feeling when she massaged it caringly.

  “The physical feeling disappeared,” she answered.

  “And what happened to the emotion of anxiety?” I continued.

  There was a pause.

  “That went too!”

  She now had the means to transcend her anxiety attacks. Asking her to locate the physical counterpart to her anxiety and to describe it to me was just a means to get her to be mindful of that feeling. Once awareness of that feeling had been established, it was a simple matter to relieve that feeling with compassion and, with it, abate the emotion of anxiety. I had also put her in charge of this therapy, restoring her self-confidence.

  Every emotion has a counterpart physical feeling, often one that we are not aware of. Dealing with an emotional problem on the mental level is just too confusing, so we deal with the physical counterpart. Once the physical part is gone, so is its emotional source.

  Within a short time she was out of bed and back in school. She was clever, worked hard, and graduated with honors. She was so impressed with me that she nominated me for Australian of the Year! I didn’t win but appreciated the gesture. I appreciated even more when, in December 2009, at her insistence, I performed the marriage blessing for her and her groom, the same boyfriend who had cared for her earlier.

  20. Kissing Pain Better

  My parents were poor but kind. I grew up in a government-subsidized apartment called a council flat. We were not afraid of burglars. In fact, we used to leave our front door unlocked, hoping a burglar might enter, take pity on us, and leave us something!

  I spent a lot of my youth playing soccer in the street with my friends. When I came off the worst in a tackle, I would scrape my knees on the stone pavement or hard asphalt. Bleeding and in pain, I would run to my mother in tears. She would simply kneel down and press her lips on the wound to “kiss it better.” The pain would always go away. Then after quickly putting on a bandage, I was back kicking that soccer ball almost immediately.

  Many years later, I wonder how unhealthy it was to place a mouth full of germs on an open wound! But it never led to an infection. Moreover, it was an instant painkiller.

  I learned the healing power of kindness from my mother through incidents such as this.

  21. The Tsunami Crocodile

  Many amazing stories of survival came out of the 2004 tsunami. One of them is how kindness saved a Sri Lankan man’s life.

  Every morning, the man would go to the edge of a lagoon connected to the ocean to feed the fish with a loaf of sliced bread. One morning, a big crocodile appeared. Sri Lankan crocodiles are very dangerous. They are known to eat people.

  Unfrightened, the kind man threw a few slices of bread to the crocodile.
The croc snapped them up and swam away.

  From that day on, the crocodile would come every morning for his breakfast of sliced bread and afterward swim away peacefully.

  The man was feeding the fish the morning the tsunami came. Being close to the edge of the water, he was swept up in the strong currents and carried out to sea. At first, he tried to hold on to a wooden chair, but the forces of the tsunami were so strong that they tore the chair from his grasp. Then he grabbed on to another piece of wood, and that too was pulled away from him. Close to drowning, he grabbed on to a log of wood that was floating close to him. He managed to hold on to that and grab some air.

  Coming back to his senses, he began to notice something very odd. Whereas every other object was being dragged by the current out to sea, his log was moving in the opposite direction back to the shore. When he was close enough to dry land, the man jumped off the log and scrambled up the bank to safety. Only then did he notice that his “log” had a tail. It was the crocodile!

  Cynics say that the crocodile only saved the man so he could get some more bread the next morning. But the wise know that the crocodile was only repaying many acts of kindness with his own act of compassion.

  22. Honey, I Can’t Find the Kids!

  I was fortunate to grow up in a small apartment. It meant that my parents, brother, and I couldn’t escape from one another. My parents would argue like all married couples, but when they made up, I was there to see it. I learned that arguments are part of life, and that any bad feeling can easily be let go of in that beautiful act of forgiveness called “making up.”

  I shared a small bedroom with my elder brother. We fought together, got into trouble together, and grew up together, learning to love one another to bits. If I had had my own room, I would never have learned this.

  I read in a newspaper about a woman in England who had won many millions of pounds in the lottery. She then brought a beautiful mansion in the countryside. One year later, she sold that impressive home at a loss and purchased a small house instead.