After leaving a meditation retreat recently, I was confronted by the tsunami catastrophe. At first it was hard to absorb the level of devastation and the overwhelming suffering that had occurred. Since I had been meditating on compassion, I had a practice and a view with which to relate to the situation in some small way. I had been trying to meditate on the world’s ongoing suffering, and here it was, blatant. As I saw the images on television, I felt a strong emotional link to the situation, because I had visited or lived in some of the affected areas.
Often in our meditation we are asked to contemplate the fortunate birth and surroundings that many of us in the West experience. Disaster reminds us how easily we can take our situation for granted. We may be overwhelmed by ongoing daily hassles, but we rarely factor in that fundamentally we are living in a very unstable environment. Many people I spoke with after the tsunami told me that it had seemed so monumental and so distant that they couldn’t really wrap their mind around it or get too emotionally involved. I could understand how difficult it was for them to relate to the enormity of the whole event, especially if they felt no connection to the area affected.
Yet their difficulty struck me as a symptom of the ongoing struggle we have in relating to the suffering of others. We become comfortable in our own environment, and we feel emotionally detached when a disaster strikes someone else. Meditation on compassion is the ideal practice under such circumstances. Sometimes we imagine compassion to be a noble and spiritual activity. In fact, it is our natural response to the world when we relax our mind enough to truly take in what is going on around us.
Contemplating compassion helps us engrain the habit of turning our thoughts to the pain and turmoil of others. Just sitting with that, we will discover that from the depths of our mind a natural wave of compassion arises. We just don’t like seeing others in pain, if only because we don’t like to see ourselves in pain. We naturally want the suffering of others to cease, whether it is one person or 150,000 people.
The tsunami disaster beautifully demonstrated this reality. First, it was hard to believe what had happened. Then in the minds of people all over the world, there was a surge of compassion. We wanted the suffering of those individuals to stop. That first wave of compassion was pre-thought. Reason hadn’t yet entered in. The next step was more practical: we wanted to help.
People overcame their doubt and hesitation and began to act. At that point, we had essentially gone from aspiration to actual compassion. Donations began to flow, and little by little the force of compassion and courage eclipsed the initial shock of the disaster. Our attempts to help seemed so small compared to the enormity of the catastrophe, yet we were all engaging in what we felt at the bottom of our hearts. This is the mind's natural energy.
Sometimes at the end of Buddhist practices, we dedicate the merit that we have accumulated to all beings. This is how we can share our mind of compassion with others. At the same time, we can take delight in the merit of others—buddhas, realized masters, bodhisattvas, and just ordinary beings engaging in goodness. Instead of feeling threatened or jealous of the good work of others, we can routinely cultivate joy in seeing others practice compassion, loving kindness, and wisdom. If we take delight in it, we are said to share in their merit.
This is an interesting attitude to take, even when we see accounts on television of others donating money or flying into devastated areas to offer care. Being happy for those people who are engaging in something good is a way to routinely engage in the virtuous mind of compassion and the merit it generates. When we see or hear about the heroic or beneficial lives of others, we can connect to our own enlightened mind of compassion.
I have studied with many great meditation masters, all sophisticated and brilliant in their own way. When they ask how someone is doing and I answer that So-and-So is well—that they are practicing or that that they have a new job or that they are happy with their family—without exception, my teachers respond in such a simple and honest way. Just in the tone of their voice, I can hear the genuine delight they are taking in the welfare of others. If someone isn’t doing well, their reaction is just as basic. They relate to the pain immediately, responding with kindness and compassion, because they truly want everyone to not to suffer.
As our technology becomes more sophisticated, we sometimes seem to think that our emotional responses need to be more sophisticated as well. But what seems best is simple, direct feeling that is not padded with of logic or twisted concepts, such as “Maybe they deserved it,” or “I’m glad it’s not me,” or “They should have known better.” These contorted responses reflect poorly on our own state of mind. If compassion feels unnatural, it’s probably because we’re still thinking of ourselves. We want the suffering to go away because it scares us, or it causes us personal pain.
According to the Buddhist teachings, concern and compassion for the welfare of others is the source of our own happiness. When we try to distance ourselves from the pain or the joy of others, we are distancing ourselves from our own happiness. For genuine joy lies in caring for the welfare of others—having direct compassion when others have difficulty and delight when others are doing well.
One of the most beneficial meditations in Buddhism is to contemplate how fortunate we are to have this precious life. Death comes without warning. Therefore we should not waste time in meaningless mental activity, when we could be engaging in compassion and love. The point is to remind ourselves that this human life is a rich opportunity; we should use it wisely, which means doing what our mind naturally yearns to do—extend itself to others with kindness and care.
One of my students, Peter, was just sitting to breakfast in Thailand after running on the beach, when out of nowhere, the Tsunami hit. The environment was a powerful and vivid illustration of these simple profound truths. His first thought was how fortunate he was to be alive, and then immediately his heart opened to all who were suffering around him. His meditation had come alive. He told me that he felt emotionally better equipped to handle what was happening, because he had meditated on these principles.
Life is always unpredictable, but no matter what happens, we can always depend on compassion and delight. The goodness and compassion of the world’s response to the tsunami demonstrates the elemental energy of the openness that is available to all of us. What happened proves that we can be forthcoming with our compassion and care for others, and that it is all right to proclaim it. They say that a small string attached to a finger can slowly move an oil tanker forward. Any time we show compassion, we are encouraging others to engage in expressing the mind's innate energy, a power that is ultimately stronger than any force of nature.
