My Heart is a Golden Buddha Read online

  At first she was just hurt, but with time and fatigue, she found herself getting more and more resentful.

  “What on earth am I working so hard for? Not one of them seems to appreciate what I’m doing. I’m up every morning before sunrise, preparing their meals—would it kill them to offer a word of thanks?”

  As the months went by, feelings of being mistreated boiled up within her, and she began to realize how often she was getting caught up in these thoughts. She remembered what the abbess had said about returning everything to her inherent foundation, so she redoubled her efforts to actually let go and entrust the things that were confronting her.

  Some time later, the kitchen nun was preparing the traditional red-bean porridge that is served every year on the winter solstice. There was a lot of extra work that day, and she began to fall back into the thought that no one appreciated the work she did. Distracted by this, she built too big of a fire.

  The pot she used for the porridge was a huge one, cast iron and over a meter in diameter. By the time she realized that she’d used too much wood, the porridge had already reached the boiling point. Large bubbles began to rise to the surface and burst, splattering the nun with boiling hot porridge and driving her away from the pot.

  She stood back a safe distance, just watching the bubbles as they continuously arose in the porridge. Suddenly she felt like she’d been hit by lightning:

  “Ho! Those bubbles aren’t coming from somewhere else! Every single one is arising from inside of the pot, and I made it happen! All of the resentment and anger I’ve been feeling has arisen from how I used my mind!

  “I’m the one who has made those things, and yet I kept blaming others. How could I have been so ignorant? Without a doubt, this agitation has been my foundation working to clear up my ignorance!”

  At last, she truly understood what the abbess had meant. She stood in front of that pot of porridge, and as each bubble arose in the thick liquid, she would exclaim, “This one’s the Bodhisattva of Wisdom! That one’s the Bodhisattva of Compassion! Hey, over there is the Buddha!”

  As the bubbles swelled up, she gently popped them, and watched as they collapsed in on themselves. After a while, when the red-bean porridge had cooked for just the right amount of time, no more bubbles arose, and they no longer threatened to splatter people near the kettle.

  The porridge had reached the point where it could feed everyone.

  ∴

  Like the kitchen nun, who saw all of those messy bubbles as Bodhisattvas and Buddhas and knew that they were not separate from her foundation, we, too, have to remember that regardless of the form things take, they all arise from our foundation.

  So that’s where we have to return them. And this doesn’t just apply to the things that arise within our minds—it’s also the things that occur in front of us in our daily lives. These are also what we’ve made, what we’ve input into our foundation, and which have merely returned to us with a different form.

  Absolutely everything, without exception, has to be returned to our foundation. It’s all something we’ve created, but we also have the power to change it, so are we going to just keep staring at it?

  If we keep letting go, then like the porridge, our minds will ripen. In the richness of a fully ripened mind, you will come to understand for yourself the profound functioning of the Dharma, and taste life as it should be.

  5

  Making a Mirror

  The great Chan Master Nanyue3 was the abbot of Prajna Temple, when a young, unknown monk named Mazu4 arrived.

  Mazu worked hard, studying with the other monks and spending hour after hour sitting in the meditation hall. Carefully observing him, Master Nanyue perceived that he was close to breaking through the web of illusion, and so perceiving his true Buddha essence.

  Thus, one afternoon Master Nanyue sat down beside Mazu and started polishing a roof tile. Mazu had no idea why his teacher was doing this, but he kept his curiosity to himself and didn’t say anything. This continued for several days until at last Mazu couldn’t contain himself.

  “Master, why on earth are you polishing a tile?”

  “I’m trying to turn it into a mirror.” In those days mirrors were made from pieces of metal polished to a high shine.

  “How can polishing possibly make a piece of tile into a mirror? No matter how much you polish it, clay can’t shine forth.”

  “And how can crossing your legs and sitting down make you a Buddha?” responded Nanyue.

  Mazu felt like he’d suddenly been hit with a log! Almost forgetting to breathe, he asked Nanyue, “Then what should I do?”

  “Let me ask you one thing. If an ox cart won’t move, do you hit the cart or do you hit the ox?”

  At that instant, Mazu became deeply enlightened.

  ∴

  It’s the ox that moves the cart. In this story, the ox represents our mind, and the cart is our body. Ultimately, these two can’t be split apart.

  However, some people focus exclusively on mind and ignore the body, while others put the body through all kinds of training and neglect mind.

  If mind is upright, then one’s body and behavior also become upright. And if you’re keeping your body and behavior upright, the strength to keep your mind upright also arises. So you can’t say that one is more important than the other. Further, without a body, you can’t engage in spiritual practice. Both are necessary.

  Nonetheless, mind is the center. Mind is the foundation of everything, the root. When growing a tree, if you pay attention to only the branches and leaves and ignore the roots, how could that tree flourish? Similarly, mind, not the body, needs to be the ultimate focus of spiritual practice in order to awaken.

  Your fundamental mind also needs to be the focus of your daily life. You probably already know this, but there are times when you misbehave and speak unwisely, aren’t there? These things happen because you aren’t entrusting everything to your foundation, due to the influence of your habits and karmic consciousnesses. If you’re just acting based upon your intellect and limited perceptions, how could you not fall into unwise speech and actions?

  We are each endowed with this essence that transcends time and space, and connects us all. It has existed since even before we were born, so entrust it with everything. Each one of us must explore and investigate this fundamental mind and then apply and experiment with what we learn.

  Trust in the ability of your fundamental mind and live your daily life with wisdom and confidence.

  6

  Parents’ Endless Love

  Long ago there was a couple who seemed destined to remain childless. Finally, after many years of prayer, they had a son.

  He was the center of their world, the child they had longed for, and they raised him with great love and devotion. But their care didn’t seem to affect his character at all, and he grew up to be selfish and greedy.

  Soon after he married, he and his wife secretly sold his parents’ fields and cattle, and then ran away with the money. His parents had their small house and that was it; everything else was gone. Can you imagine how angry and betrayed they must have felt?

  Although hurting terribly, they still loved their son very much and expected that sooner or later he would return. As time went by with no sign of him or his wife, they began to worry.

  “Our land and cattle wouldn’t have brought that much money. What will happen to them once they’ve gone through it?”

  Every day they prayed for them, that wherever they were, their lives would be free of hardships and hunger, disasters and illness.

  The parents continued to live in the same house for as long as they could, hoping that someday their son would return. But as their savings ran out, they had to sell their house; eventually this money was exhausted as well, and they had no place to go.

  Fortunately, a large temple in the area was familiar with their situation and arranged for the elderly couple to come and live there. The wife worked in the kitchens, helping to prepare
meals, while her husband helped collect firewood and tend the fires.

  A few years later the husband passed away, and his wife followed him soon after. The husband was reborn in a nearby village, and a few years later his wife was reborn as his neighbor. Eventually, they both ended up becoming monks at that very temple.

  One day, the younger of the two monks was traveling on an important errand. Passing a dilapidated hut beside the road, he happened to look inside, where he saw a very poor, elderly couple huddled together. They looked ill and were so skinny that if he had tried, he probably could have counted all their bones.

  The wife didn’t even have any clothes; instead, she wore an old rice sack with holes cut out for her head and arms. Her husband was wearing pants and a shirt, or what must have once been pants and a shirt; now they looked more like rags strung together. They would take turns wearing this one set of clothes, and the person with the clothes would go out begging for food.

  The younger monk had to hurry on his way, but as he thought about them, he realized that they would probably die within a week or two if nothing were done to help. Upon returning to the temple, he went to see his older Dharma brother and told him about what he’d seen.

  About this time, their teacher entered the room. After hearing the whole story, he chuckled, and then sighed. “There’s no escaping from karma. In your last life, you two were a married couple, and those old people were your children. One was your son and the other your daughter-in-law.”

  Hearing the entire story, the monks were shocked and heartbroken. The elder monk wondered out loud, “If we spent so much effort praying for their well-being, how could such a fate have befallen them?”

  Their teacher answered with a sad voice. “I understand how much you wanted to help them, but people receive things in proportion to what they have done. You two have received the fruits of what you did, and they’ve received the fruits of what they did. Although you wanted to lead them to a better way of living, their hearts were so full of greed, anger, and foolishness that there was no room left to receive your prayers and compassion.”

  By now, tears were streaming down the faces of both monks. “Isn’t there anything we can do to help them?”

  Their teacher was silent for several minutes, then asked, “Were they too sick to go out and help others?”

  The younger monk nodded.

  “Well, they need to do something for someone else. All their lives they’ve thought of only themselves, and without the virtue that comes from generosity, it will be hard to make a connection with them and lead them forward. Didn’t they have anything?”

  “No,” answered the younger monk, “just the clothes on their back and a rice sack for a blanket.”

  “Well, that will have to do. Go back and have them donate their clothes. It’s everything they own, so in that sense, it’s a huge donation. With your help, that might be enough to break through the damage created by their greed and desire.”

  “But, their clothes…,” sobbed the younger monk.

  “I know,” sighed their teacher, tears welling up in his eyes.

  So, the younger monk went back to the old couple, and trying not to cry, told them to donate their one set of filthy, threadbare clothes. He couldn’t bring himself to repeat what he’d heard from his teacher, but as the old couple complained bitterly, the monk finally yelled at them, “Donate your clothes! It’s the only thing that can help you!”

  The old man took the clothes off and threw them in a stinking pile at the monk’s feet. Later, the old couple cut the rice sack in half, each one using their half like a shawl; but a whole or half a sack made little difference, and in their near naked state they were too ashamed to even beg for food.

  The younger monk carried the clothes back to the temple on the end of a stick. Both he and his brother monk deeply reflected on how they could make this offering as worthy as possible. So, after washing and boiling the clothes, they used what was left of the shirt to clean the Dharma hall, and with the pants they cleaned the monks’ rooms.

  They did this every morning and evening until the rags were useless, even for cleaning. Finally, they burned them and mixed the ashes with water, which they both drank up.

  How can I express their sincerity? In the past as parents, and in this life as monks, their caring and love was that deep.

  After some days had passed, the local villagers began to wonder what had happened to the two old beggars. “Well, they haven’t been around for a while, so they’ve probably died, haven’t they? Still, I suppose we should go and check.”

  With this, a group of men and women went to the hut, and what they found moved them all. The old couple lay together, sick and shaking with fever. Left alone, they would certainly die before long. The villagers discussed the situation for a few minutes, and everyone was in agreement: they would bring the old couple back with them, and the whole village would look after them.

  Over the next few months, each family took turns feeding and caring for the old couple. Receiving so much kindness, old couple began to think about how they had treated their own parents. They went to the temple and asked to speak with the monk who had come to their hut a few months before.

  The two monks and their teacher greeted the old couple and listened intently to what they said:

  “We’ve done some terrible things, and the suffering that resulted was like a living death. But then you came by and everything changed. We only did what you told us, to donate our clothes, but the merit of that alone has caused us to live comfortably these last few months.

  “But what about our parents? We did such a terrible thing to them. What happened to them after we left? We left them with nothing. How could we have treated our parents like that?” By now, the old couple was crying hard as they spoke.

  “Your mother and father are right in front of you—they are these two monks!” said the teacher.

  The old couple couldn’t believe their ears. The teacher continued, “The previous shape and appearance of your parents has disappeared; now they stand before you as these two monks. As your parents, their love and prayers for you were complete and unconditional.

  “Likewise, in this life also, they received your donation with complete sincerity and used that old shirt to clean the Dharma hall, and the pants to clean the monks’ quarters. And when those rags were nothing but threads, they burned them and drank the ashes. This is how deep and unconditional a parent’s love is.”

  Hearing this, the old couple collapsed. The monks revived them, but the old couple couldn’t say a word. They sobbed for breath as tears washed their faces. In an instant, they had seen all of the suffering they had caused their parents, as well as all the blessings they’d thrown away.

  Their regret at how they’d lived and the desire to follow a wiser path seemed to burst their hearts. Bathed in love and compassion, they died right there, in the arms of the monks who had been their parents.

  The couple’s parents had embraced them with love instead of curses, viewing everything their children had done as part of their own karma. Instead of getting angry or depressed over it, they worked at returning it to their foundation.

  Thus, they were able to respond wisely, in a way that eventually led their children to see an alternative to the way they had been living. As the parents entrusted everything back to their true nature, they and their children became one, and the light that arose from this helped free their children from their ignorance and misguided views.

  By freeing their children like this, the parents also saved themselves.

  ∴

  Although you do something for someone else, ultimately you’re the one who will benefit. And if you do something harmful, that doesn’t just fade away. Eventually it will all return to you.

  If you understand only these two truths, how could you just drift through life? Be diligent; do your very best with the things that arise in your life. Be utterly sincere in the things you do. Then the things you do for yourself end u
p benefiting others as well, and the things you do for others will also benefit you.

  If you only think about yourself and your own difficulties, while ignoring the situation of those around you, how could this be called the correct path? Once we are born into this world, it’s as if we are all riding in the same boat.

  Even if you only have a little to eat, share it with those who have less. If everyone practices like this, there will be more than enough for everyone.

  7

  The Man Who Ran Out of Merit

  Long ago there was a poor man who did his best to live an honest life.

  Although prosperity was a stranger to his home, he worked hard to avoid getting caught up in desire or envy. He never cheated others, and instead did the best he could to be satisfied with what little he did have.

  It seemed to him that he was living a good life, and he assumed that after his death he would find himself in a good place.

  On the day he died, he arrived in the next world, but instead of the heavenly realm he expected, he saw a vast darkness lit only by a huge assembly of candles.

  There were thin candles and great thick candles, candles so tall he could barely see their tops and little stubby candles. There were candles that burned with a bright flame, and candles that always seemed on the verge of going out. In front of each candle was a pouch with a person’s name on it; some of these pouches looked like they were stuffed full, and others were limp and empty.

  Looking around, he saw that one of the empty pouches had his own name on it, and the candle behind it, though only half burned, had gone out.

  As he moved closer to the empty pouch, an old man appeared and began to speak to him:

  “I am the guardian of this place, and I am also your ancestor, although by your reckoning that was nine generations ago. The candles you see represent the amount of life a person is born with, and the pouches represent the merit and virtue they have.