The Daily Dalai: “The creatures that inhabit this earth–be they human beings or animals–are here to contribute, each in its own particular way, to the beauty and prosperity of the world.”
They just don’t know it. Nor do they act like it. It’s one big shameless display of self-interest.
I guess when the cows start thanking us for liking hamburgers, I’ll start considering that possibility, Tenzin.
And humanity contributes what exactly to the beauty and prosperity of the world?
The Daily Dalai: “A good friend who points out mistakes and imperfections and rebukes evil is to be respected as if he reveals the secret of some hidden treasure.”
Wow, a utopian vision! HH invokes the ideal, the goal. Can we subscribe to it? I must say it seems far-fetched in this ego-driven nightmare we are living in. Who among us can honestly say they welcome criticism and correction?
During my working years, I had the job of auditing, assessing and assuring quality of staff performance for a state agency. I can’t recall a single instance of “happy the QA lady is here to correct my work.” Quite the contrary was the case.
Oh sure I learned how. The point is no one wanted to hear they had room to improve. Which is sad when you consider that everyone does.
So Holiness, we thank you for directing our attention to a clear measure of ego-attachment that we may re-commit to relinquishing same.
I’m afraid you have also underlined the distance yet to go.
In my personal life I have known many who burst into flame upon any suggestion of criticism. None of the other kind. Let us re-commit ourselves to become free from the shackles of ego. It has ever been our undoing.
Self importance is the great illusion of humanity. We’re so proud of ourselves. Men in suits proclaim our will.
“Let us try to recognize the precious nature of each day.” — The Dalai Lama, The Daily Dalai.
I am brought to tears by the occasional glimpse of the miracle of life. These too-brief too-infrequent awakenings spark my heart. It beats faster for a moment. Then it overwhelms me and my heart suddenly breaks, as if what’s underscored is the loss of awareness that is normal waking consciousness.
So casual, so separate, so different. We like the cocoon. Familiar, cozy, safe. Keep the love, that dangerous emotion, in its place. It’s okay, it really is. But it’s such a waste. Sloth is a deadly inclination.
“Without love, where would we be now?” Let’s not even go there.
With love? Where could we be now?
Our prime purpose in this life is to help others. And if you can’t help them, at least don’t hurt them. (Dalai Lama)
Richard doesn’t get this. I have understood this since a very early age, back when I was able to get around in a wheelchair at St. Charles Hospital. I was five with paralytic polio and after months in bed, I at last graduated to a chair. I remember how exhilarating it was to be mobile. In the evenings when the lights went out, I’d get in my chair and make my rounds. I was the only girl able to get out of bed. I adjusted pillows, combed hair for the girl in the iron lung. I carried water in little paper cups. I even washed an older girl’s hair.
I knew then. I know now. Richard doesn’t have the heart of altruistic service. In this regard he is rather like most people who have yet to learn compassion as the central duty to all other sentient beings. I am always inviting him. Perhaps someday he will come.