Doing “Good” and the Value of Everything

If you have everything, perhaps nothing means anything.

If you have nothing, perhaps anything means something.

In this great country, signs of poverty are everywhere. We see tents and broken down trailers housing the homeless at freeway interchanges and curbside in quiet neighbourhoods. They are so ubiquitous that they have become as much a part of our landscape as similar scenes in what we think of as Third World countries.

What are your thoughts as you drive by yet another shopping cart-tent, or avert your eyes from yet another panhandler? Perhaps you have mixed feelings. You sincerely wish that “someone” would do “something” about “those people” who are in such dire need of assistance.

The point of this article is not about social outreach. Do what you are brought to do. While our teaching speaks often of compassion and selfless giving, there’s nothing in it that tells us to do good acts as a means to attain the ulti­mate peace of nirvana. If we do good acts and believe that we are doing something kind, then we’re missing the point. The peace of nirvana, or being in a Pure Land state of abiding tranquility of heart-mind, means that there is no sense of duality, no separation between oneself and “other.” There but for the outcome of our causes and conditions go “I”. We, who have so much, take so much for granted. Rather than living in climate-controlled homes, we could be living out of shopping bags. Rather than rolling along in our comfortable cars to go to our jobs, run errands, or do something entertaining, we could be standing outside with a cardboard sign, trying to catch the eye of drivers. It doesn’t matter which side of the coin we’re on. We’re all part of life together and even if we don’t react to the plight of others, we’re not separate. And if we do react to their plight, we’re not separate either because it’s really not us helping them. They’re helping us, too, as we all live one life.

When we see beings in need, whether it’s due to poverty, war, discrimination, environmental loss or other manifestations of ignorance, perhaps a light goes on. What is the world coming to? What’s it all about? Where do I fit? We could think of this as a wake-up call. It’s the calling voice of great life. Beings in difficulty are our teachers, too.

Next, we start to reflect on it. Am I part of the solution or part of the problem? Life’s been pretty good. Every­one has issues, but generally speaking, things are okay. We’ve received much from life—family, friends, education, decent living conditions, a means of support, relative safety … none of which require that we be perfect and pure, or fulfill a certain set of religious rules. Reflecting on the true self, we can’t help but feel humbled. Do we only do kind things when it’s convenient? Do we expect praise for our good acts? Are we always mindful of the effect our thoughts, words, and deeds have on others? Do we even notice the problems and difficulties we cause for others? At the same time, do we stop to notice how much we receive, regardless of how “good” we are?

If we’re really sincere and honest with ourselves, we will realize the enormity of our ego and self-cherishing. In this moment of openness and vulnerability, we wake up to our profound dependence on the infinite web of life, even as we are blinded by our own ignorance.

With such a reflection, we are brought to feel not only deep humility and gratitude, but also a selfless impulse to share the benefits of life. It’s a “no-brainer.”

Whatever we do, may we remember to be mindful that infinite wisdom and compassion are always working on us. This is what Nembutsu means – mindful [nen] of Amida [Sanskrit: Amitabha – Infinite Light (wisdom) and Amitayus –Infinite Life (compassion)]. May we always take the time to reflect, regardless of our deeds, “good” or “bad”. Everything is practice ground. If we really had nothing, then perhaps we’d truly realize the value of everything. Namo Amida Butsu.

Gassho,

Rev. Patricia Usuki