Learning from the Pheasant’s Heart
Reverend Yukari Torii
Resident Minister, San Fernando Valley Hongwanji Buddhist Temple
Several weeks have passed since the L.A wildfires broke out, and I continue to hope for the safety of our sangha members. My heart goes out to all those affected by these disasters. Fortunately, our temple building has suffered no visible damage. While some sangha members have experienced evacuations and power outages, we haven’t received reports of major losses so far. My husband and I live between the Palisades and Sunset evacuation zones—though we prepared to evacuate, we were spared significant impact. In light of this, I’ve felt somewhat powerless about what words I could offer everyone during this difficult time. Seeing your smiling faces during our Zoom service brought me great relief, and I’d like to share again the thoughts I expressed then.
These past weeks, we’ve watched with profound sadness and fear as wildfires across the Los Angeles area have claimed lives and destroyed homes and communities. Our thoughts are with everyone who has lost loved ones, homes, and pieces of their community. I’ve spent this time—and continue to think about—what I and our temple can do in response to these fires.
This brought to mind a story from the Buddhist Jataka Tales that some of you may know. Once, there was a great forest fire. All the forest animals fled to safety. But a pheasant who lived in the forest saw the fire, dove into a lake, soaked its wings with water, and flew over the wildfire, dropping tiny drops of water to try to extinguish the great fire. Though the fire was massive and the water drops small, the pheasant flew back and forth. The other animals shouted, “You can’t put out the fire that way!” But the pheasant called back, “All the creatures in this forest are my friends. I cannot watch this fire and do nothing. I may not be able to stop the fire, but this is everything I can do.” What moved the pheasant to engage in this firefighting effort?
From the moment the fires began the situation has been ever-changing. Not only the Palisades and Eaton fires, but also the Hurst and others, and now, the Hughes fires, are still burning. Even when things appear to have calmed, I sense we must remain vigilant. The situation remains unpredictable—we can’t know with certainty who might be safe and who might face crisis next. Those unaffected so far don’t know what tomorrow might bring. Some of you are living with real anxiety about fires starting in your neighborhood and possible evacuation. Others might be safe themselves but carrying the deep emotional pain of seeing loved ones severely impacted. Some might have experienced great fear but feel unable to express it when faced with others who’ve lost everything, and might hesitate to ask for help. Yet each person carries their own suffering in their unique situation.
Despite these circumstances, I’ve watched our temple members reach out to each other and try to help however they can, even while facing their own difficulties. This is what reminded me of the pheasant from the Jataka Tale. Faced with such devastating damage, we each do what we can. Why? Because we are all interconnected.
A Buddha is one who jumps into the fire, without regard for personal danger, to save others. Some of you might do the same instinctively to save your child. To Amida Buddha, each one of us is a precious child. Amida Buddha joyfully leaps into the flames to save us. During these fires, many of you have witnessed first responders working selflessly in rescue operations. We feel profound gratitude toward those who have literally saved lives. At the same time, not all of us can act in this way. This is natural, as we each have different abilities and circumstances.
However, if you’re able both mentally and materially, you might consider contributing to disaster relief. Your words of encouragement might support someone’s spirit. Your shared grief might ease someone’s pain. Even your smile might lift someone’s spirits. And if you find yourself unable to do anything but process your situation—that’s okay. Be honest with your feelings. In difficult times, surviving is what you can do. We’re all here to support you. Supporting each other as we’re able, without pushing ourselves too hard—this is the interconnectedness we learn through Buddhism.
Amida Buddha, comprehending this interconnectedness, sees each person as a beloved child and says, “I am always thinking of you. Your pain is my pain.” While we may not be able to fully embody this way of being, learning about Amida Buddha’s mind helps us strive to reflect even a small portion of it in our daily lives. Like the pheasant in the Jataka Tale, we can think of others as fundamentally connected lives and do our utmost for them within our capabilities. This becomes our own joy as well. Such actions don’t bring us closer to Buddhahood, but recognizing the importance of altruistic and compassionate hearts is a crucial lesson from listening to the Dharma, one that becomes a great source of support and comfort for both ourselves and others in times of crisis.
We don’t know what situations we might face in the future. However, under the light of Amida Buddha’s compassion, let us live each day to the fullest, grateful for our sangha where we can care for each other and share both joys and sorrows. Namo Amida Butsu.