THE FIVE LESSONS OF LIFE
BILL ADAMS
RIDER 2000
PART VI
Chapter 8: Love
- Within twenty minutes we were standing outside the door of a stone hovel, a dilapidated dwelling with a flat earth roof and two tiny windows. No running water. No electricity.
- This was the house of a very poor person. It was dark and damp. Along the far wall was a high shelf. On it rested one blackened and battered cooking pan.
- On the near side of the room on a ragged blanket spread on the ground lay what at first glance I took to be a scrawny old man. However, I quickly realised that he was young, no older than thirty, unwashed and with skin the texture and colour of oiled leather.
- He was under-dressed for the coolness of the room in trousers and vest, without shoes or socks. Dirt was engrained on his ankles. The trousers were held in place around the waist by cord that had once been white.
- He sat up as Sangratan entered the room with hands brought together in greeting. The young man did the same and Sangratan sat cross-legged beside him. I stayed in the doorway, for in this room three would have been a crowd.
- Without saying a word, Sangratan took the man’s wrist and felt his pulse. Then he placed his palm on the man’s forehead, and when satisfied went back to taking his pulse.
- After another minute or so he told the man to lie down, and ran his palm gently over the man’s abdomen and chest. Again he went back to the pulse-taking.
- There then began a conversation between them in the local language, accompanied by so much smiling and nodding of the head that it was impossible for me to guess at the content of Sangratan’s inquiries or the man’s responses.
- All the while Sangratan’s hands were busy, at one moment placed gently on a shoulder, the next squeezing a forearm, pressing a leg, turning a hand to examine the nails.
- Finally Sangratan turned to me. ‘This is Ananda,’ he said, ‘and he needs you to get him some water in that fancy bottle of yours.’
- By the time I returned Ananda was lying on his front, naked to the waist. Sangratan was rubbing oil from a very small bottle on to Ananda’s scrawny neck, talking to him in a low voice. I put down the water bottle and went outside.
- It was then that I noticed a young man sitting quietly at the side of the house. His face wore an expectant smile. I brought my palms together in greeting, and walked towards him. He looked a much younger, healthier version of the man in the house.
- A common system of gestures and single Hindi words allowed us to communicate. Raju was keen to show hospitality to a guest but, since this was a poor family, his kindness manifested itself in offers of water to drink and much exhorting for me to try ever more comfortable places to sit.
- A tiny woman of middle years walked into the clearing. It was Raju’s and Ananda’s mother, Sita. Sangratan came out of the house. Sita’s face lost its smile.
- The sun was beginning its descent as Sangratan came to a halt and suggested we rest for a while. ‘Tell me about Ananda.’
‘This was the first time I had met him. Raju came to see me the day before yesterday, and told me that Ananda was suffering. Ananda is like many people, absorbed by himself and by “possessing”. For him even love is a possession. He is suffering because he is abusing his body and mind. In the process he is causing suffering to his mother and his brother and almost all who come into contact with him. He is in need of much healing.
Ananda is not mindful of what he values. He has forgotten the First Lesson of Life. He does not meditate on what he values, and so he is obsessed with himself. Because of this he ignores the Second Lesson of Life, which is to develop and nurture that which he values, and he also ignores the Third Lesson, which is to seek agreement with those close to him, in his case, his mother and Raju. He is suffering in his values, his family, and his body.
Ananda’s physical symptoms are chronic acidity, malnourishment, stomach and bowel disorder, slight kidney and liver damage, and spondylosis, related to his drinking large quantities of chung (the local alcohol), as is the malnourishment, but that is also related to material poverty. The spondylosis is due to the harsh nature of the labour that the poor around here have to subject themselves to. The drinking of large quantities of chung is a symptom of his estrangement from his values. It is an expression of his obsession with what he erroneously considers to be his “self”. He is suffering because he sees himself as a separate entity from his environment, his mother and his brother.
To ease his suffering I have given him some medicines, to disperse his suffering I have told him to meditate on what he really values, and to meditate on the value of chung!. When he meditates on both with an open mind he will find what he truly values and pursue it. Ananda needs to find the loving kindness and compassion to remove his mother’s and brother’s suffering, and when he does he will ease his own suffering, for we are all interdependent. To find this loving compassion it is necessary for him to meditate on the nature of love, and on his love for his mother and brother.
I have given him instructions on what and how to meditate. First he must mediate on his values and when he has that clear, he should meditate on what love is based. In sequence he must consider what is love? Does he love his mother? Why does he love his mother? How should he demonstrate his love? In all this he will discover he will discover that love is something which is given but cannot be owned. It is not permanent, as everything is impermanent. It is given today and it needs to be given tomorrow, for it has no existence outside of giving. Love is constantly being made and constantly being given. It can be accepted, but it cannot be owned. Words can demonstrate love, but it requires action as well as words to manifest itself. Love is not empty words but kindness and compassion.
Ananda must learn that love is also selflessness. Usually when people think of love they think that love exists in relationships of ownership. “My” love. People want only to love that to which they “belong” or which “belongs” to them. “My parents”, “my relatives”, “my wife,” “my children”, “my people”, “my country”. This possessive emotion, based on discrimination, breeds prejudice, and is a source of suffering for ourselves and others. Ananda, if he meditates correctly, will understand that the reasons that exist to love his mother are there in all mothers, and in all fathers and in all sentient beings who nurture and develop others. He will learn that the qualities which he loves in his brother exist in all brothers and sisters, and in all beings which grow and develop interdependently. And when he is truly enlightened he will see the interdependence of all living things, and the qualities within them which loving kindness and compassion nurture and develop.
And if Ananda meditates on chung he will see its real value, and he will not imbibe as much, if at all. I expect him to see he value in his mother and brother and see how his drinking chung is hurting them all. I will return to ensure that Ananda reaches agreement about his drinking or non-drinking with his mother and brother, and begins to give some loving kindness and compassion to them.’
- Sangratan put his hands into his black bag and withdrew a smaller bag made of newspapers containing a little bottle of dark oil. ‘Ayurvedic, excellent for the spondylosis. I gave a bottle like this to Sita to apply to Ananda. It will bring them closer and cure his neck.’
- He withdrew another newsprint bag of small brown pellets bearing a remarkable resemblance to rabbit droppings. ‘Magic medicines. Made on auspicious nights by chanting monks. The magic is in the mindful chanting. They are made with selfless love, compassion and care. It is this which gives them their healing properties. For they are made by people in active agreement and unison. The medicinal qualities they get from their ingredients. They will balance Ananda’s body.’
- Without saying another word we got up and walked on in silence. I thought of the monks who had so diligently made the medicines with collective compassion, seeking the best time according to their calendar.
- I thought of Sangratan administering to Ananda, helping him to examine more closely what he valued and seek agreement about how to develop and nurture it.
- I thought of Sita and Raju, of their poverty and hardship, and the small bag of rice she gave, and her joy in giving.
- I thought of myself and hoped that I could throw off the conditioning of my own society which saw giving and receiving as a mutually balanced exchange, and love as a possession, used to exclude others.
- I thought of the joy that came from giving loving kindness and compassion without expectation of return.