The Five Lessons of Life Part 4

THE FIVE LESSONS OF LIFE

BILL ADAMS

RIDER                 2000

PART IV

 

Chapter 5: The Power of Meditation

• I bathed as quickly as possible, dipping my hand in the bucket and splashing a few drops of water on my sleep-warmed skin.
• Never having done it before, I concentrated hard on what it was I valued, and then I asked the questions that Sangratan gave me. The answers that came from within suggested other questions I should ask myself. Why did I value it? Why this, not that? Then I asked myself what it was I wanted to change. What was it I wanted to do better?
• And then the ‘when’ questions. By when did I want the new state of affairs to be in place? When should I start to make changes?
• It was a clumsy attempt at meditation. I went round in circles. It was nothing like the transcendental meditation described to me by a friend in the flower-power 1960s.
• This meditation was simply me putting time aside to concentrate and ponder on the things I valued; setting aside the time to ask myself the questions I had sometimes casually asked myself in the past, but had never followed up.
• This meditation was a conscious attempt to confront my values and search for ways to develop my life in accord with them. I held the thought of the good farmer in my mind. It was my attempt at the practical meditation of a practical person. It was a very clumsy attempt, but it worked.
• I had given myself fifteen uninterrupted minutes to meditate and at the end of that time I had a lot of confusion, but I had made one major decision, and it did alter my life for the better. It was easy to decide what I valued most – my son.
• What was it about him I valued most was a little more difficult to answer, for there were so many things. I set about trying to list the happiness Sean gave me, but some things were so obvious, and some were intangible.
• I cut short the list for, as I thought of him, it came to me that what I valued most was his company. I simply loved his company.
• I was aware of wanting to relive my relationship with my father, to give Sean the happiness my father gave me, so that I could understand better the happiness my father had got from our relationship, and in that way feel closer to my father once again.
• After I had wept, I knew with a certainty what I would do.
• The result of my first meditation was to decide to take a lunch break when Sean got home from school. We sit as my father and I sat in that time long ago, in the days when many fathers and sons sat and talked, as they sat and talked for generations before careers were invented.
• I thought of other farmers in this valley; families working together, eating together, sharing each and every hardship, talking to each other all day long, toiling in common enterprise, living in harmony. Sangratan was right: for those who nurture such simple things great joy is found.
• Abha said, “Two innovations in your life. Your setting aside time to meditate, and planning to set aside more time for Sean. Good!” She continued, ‘I must meet this Sangratan. He must be very special to keep you out all night, and cause you to meditate, let alone resolve to change your way of life!’
• Sean went off with some older boys while Abha and I headed for Sangratan’s campsite of the night before. “Well, where is he?” This was the spot. Now it was as if he and I had never been there.

 

Chapter 6: The Third Lesson of Life

• I was broody, frustrated with the weather, with the disappearance of Sangratan, and with my attempts at meditation and reflection. I was also bothered by a recurring dream.
• On the third night the dream had returned: after much wandering down the endless corridors, this time I find the room where Sangratan is sitting in his usual lotus position. His face is expressionless. The scowl has disappeared and he sits with his eyes closed. Before I could speak I woke up!
• It was morning and I somehow knew that when meditating I had to meditate on one value, or one object of value at a time.
• The great religions of the world all stress the illusory nature of existence. By examining my values, I was seeking to understand my inner self and my relationship with an ever-changing world.
• In examining each value I would redefine myself and the world. No wonder I was confused. I resolved to examine only one value per day.
• By the ninth day after my night-time meeting with Sangratan there was still no sight of him and I decided that he had moved on, and that I would probably not see him again.
• I decided to walk to the village of Chinie. The temple was not grand, the grounds were not ornate. All around the inside of the temple small statues of Kali and Buddha were placed side by side: Kali, the Hindu goddess of destruction who drinks the blood of her victims, who inspires murderous cults, who demands blood sacrifices, and Buddha, the teacher of non-violence, peace and contemplation!
• On one side of the room there was a shrine with more of the Buddhas and a large framed print of his Holiness the Dalai Lama. On the other side of the room was a shrine to Kali with its statuettes, and a print of the goddess.
• This was one temple serving two totally different religions, both revered by the inhabitants of Chinie.
• Outside I was shown the stone on which animals were sacrificed to Kali. A woman told me that the usual practice was to sacrifice them inside the temple but as a concession to the Buddhists in this village, they did it only in the temple yard.
• Of course, she added without a trace of irony, all religions are the same, only the form of worship differs.
• I said my goodbyes and, still struggling to come to terms with the apparent contradictions, walked out of the gate. There in front of me stood Sangratan.
• ‘Perplexed, Bill-ji? He stated he was not keen to stay in the village, for ‘large settlements make me uneasy.’ Since Chinie consists of no more than fifty houses I was surprised by his definition of a large settlement.
• Beside the track, just before it enters the village of Chinie, there is a large rock. There in the shadow of the rock sat Kirti. We sat down beside her. For a long time I talked and Sangratan listened.
• When I had finished he was full of questions. ‘What are computers?’ ‘Why leave your home and family to pursue work when you do not have to?’ ‘Why is important to pursue a career?’ ‘Why is competition important to you?’ and so on.
• I asked him of his life. He was one of four children but only he and his younger sister survived past early infancy. His father had been an Amchi. They had traveled throughout the Kinnuer and regularly walked to Tibet, though since the occupation by China it was now much harder to travel freely.
• ‘Times are changing faster than they used to,’ he said. ‘Soon there will be no more traveling Amchi. The land is being emptied, and the towns are being filled. There are new barriers everywhere. Even in this isolated area, the way of life is changing.’
• He was tutored by a ‘lady of the Raj’, the wife of an English official. He told me tales of his travels into areas where ‘the most violent of men’ lived, of his fear and wonder at the skulls of their victims openly displayed in their villages.
• ‘You see, Bill-ji, in the past these mountains produced the very best, and the very worst, of men. Men of kindness and men of casual cruelty living side by side.
• In these mountains are the descendants of those who collected as trophies the heads of others. In these mountains live men whose ancestors made human sacrifices, and here also live the descendants of some of the most gentle people the world has known.’
• It had taken a long time for the people of the mountains to learn to live in harmony with each other. The temple in Chinie was a symbol of how different people have learned to live together.
• ‘Tolerating that which you fundamentally disagree with is not an easy thing to do. It is not something which can be achieved without consistent and constant effort.’
• To live in harmony you need to develop your attitude so that tolerance is not a chore but comes effortlessly, a natural part of everyday life.
• Tolerance is only the first step, for through tolerance we start to come closer together, and when we come close together we recognize more easily the commonality of our hopes and dreams, and see much more than our differences.
• ‘An enemy has to be created and the way to start to make an enemy is to see only the differences between him and you. In times past there was a commonality of blood and group and a certain order encouraged by family and relatives. It was easier to live in peace in those days. Even now I think it is easier to be in this society, than in yours, Bill-ji. We had to learn that the differences between our kin and others were small and insignificant. The relationship between different people and the things of value that they pursue is the subject matter of the Third Lesson of Life.’
• This is what Sangratan then recounted to me:

The Third Lesson of Life tells us how to behave one to the other. It reminds us that we are social beings and that when we work together in harmony we achieve more. It also reminds us that we change and influence our world all the time, and the greater  the harmony between all living things, even those things which can or do harm each other, the better for all. Indeed, the nurturing and development of those things that we cherish require that we are in agreement with others, for without agreement our tasks become so much harder and the outcome so much more unsatisfactory. In our pursuit of everything, we need to seek the agreement of those we value, if we are to develop it fully. The son who is not in agreement with his parents may do as they wish but his enthusiasm will be less. The younger brothers who disagree with their elder may still do his bidding, but with a heavier heart. The man who cheats another separates himself from the cheated and all who are close to his victim. He loses far more than the material gains his cheating brings. When we do not seek agreement we store up for ourselves a future without wholehearted effort, without genuine fraternity, and one with possible resentment and distrust.

Whereas the first two Lessons of Life help us to agree with ourselves those things which are important and how we should develop and nurture them, the Third Lesson of Life shows us that we should always seek as much agreement as possible with others before acting.

The Third Lesson of Life reminds us that because each one of us changes all of the time, there will always be differences between us, but by constantly seeking agreement we minimize the conflicts which continual change brings.

It is by seeking agreement with others that we begin to see that the differences between us are very small. Those who forget the Lessons of Life seek out and notice only differences between people, and between people and other sentient beings. Often we are deluded into thinking that the differences between us and others are great. We take for granted our similarities and only see our differences, no matter how small. Often we hide behind our differences, the rich man forgetting that he is a poor man with wealth. Often, we are very foolish, we try to accentuate these tiny differences. We see one small difference between us and another, and seek to create many others. We exclude that person from us simply on the basis of a single difference, and build more differences to keep him or her further away from us. For example, the rich lord uses his wealth and power to differentiate between himself and others by causing them to behave differently towards him than to each other. He accentuates differences by clothing, forms of address, access to land and property, possessions and goods. In this way he creates illusions which can lead only to false agreements, and is increasingly impoverished himself.

The Third Lesson of Life teaches us to look for the similarities between all living things, and to seek harmony with all. When we look at a tree and see it as different from us, our relationship with it is different than it would have been if we had seen the similarities between us and it. If we see only the wood and leaves we will treat it differently than if we had seen it as one more living thing capable of reproducing itself and sensitive to changes in its environment, as we are to ours.

If a man can understand the feelings of others and all the ways in which they are alike, as a father, or mother, as a son, as a husband, as a worker, then he is far less likely to harm or want to harm, to kill or want to kill. The Buddhists, many Hindus, and others who live in these mountains know this lesson well, and when they look at a cow or goat or any living creature they see another sentient being. When the non-violent worshipper in the temple at Chinie sees the blood sacrifice he may abhor the act, but he values the practitioner as another sentient being who shares with him most of the values and feelings that he has. Those who have learnt the Third Lesson well concentrate on that on which they can agree. Time and tolerance simply add to the accommodation one with the other.

The Third Lesson of Life also reminds us that we are thinking beings. We think and then we act. By sharing our thoughts with others and seeking their agreement, we help ourselves to see things more clearly and increase the possibility that our actions will be supported fully by those we value most. We also give others the opportunity to help us see the weaknesses in our plans and deliberations. Also, when we seek the agreement of others for our plans or actions we strengthen our own commitment both to what we plan to do, and to those from whom we seek agreement.

However, the Third Lesson of Life reminds us that animals and plants cannot give us their agreement, for our skills of communication are limited. In these cases we must try to imagine the consequences of our actions, and try to preserve what we imagine is their best interest. (We should also remember that, at times, we will make mistakes so we should proceed with caution when dealing with decisions affecting other sentient beings.)

Once we have agreed a course of action with ourselves and with those close to us,  we should act.

• Remember that life is work. Work is action. The Third Lesson reminds us that we should always find time to meditate, seek agreement and then act, and to do all three without unnecessary delays. For the nature of life is change and everything has its time.
• Be cautious in everything you do, but act without fear. The wise man is not afraid, for he understands the nature of change. He knows life is not still. He constantly seeks to understand and adapt to his environment while conserving and developing what he values.
• He is cautious, for he knows he needs to preserve and develop harmony, and he knows that agreement and harmony are built with small steps, not giant leaps.
• His pilgrimage is the pilgrimage of life, a pilgrimage of small steps to many different shrines, each containing what he values most.
• He meditates, seeks agreement, and moves, one step at a time, towards the shrine of what he values. And at each shrine he meditates, and then seeks agreement before moving on to the next shrine, on his pilgrimage of life.

 

Chapter 7: The Philosophy of the Amchi