Is it better to be Kind than Right?

The above message was created by Anne Harwell and I am using it here to illustrate the typical malaise that is characteristic of our culture and our civilization.

So what's wrong with the above banner? It triumphantly states that "it is better to be kind than right". By claiming that, the statement establishes a tacit assumption that to be kind means to be wrong. Then, it takes a 'wiser' stance and claims that, be all that as it may, it is still better to be wrong, but kind.

The question that immediately comes to mind is: "Based on whose authority do these people claim that to be kind is to be wrong?" And if that's indeed the case, based on what authority are we now to accept that it is better to be wrong (i.e. kind) than to be right?

This false dichotomy, the erroneous pitting of being kind against being right, is a clearcut case of intellectual weakness. The author blindly accepts the idea that one cannot possibly be kind and be right at the same time. But one needs to stop and ask oneself: "Why would being kind mean that one is wrong?"

The problem lies precisely in that question. Somewhere along the line, people have made this unexamined assumption that being kind equates to being wrong. It would be pretty much impossible to determine why and how did that terrible miscalculation arise. Still, the erroneous thinking is here, as witnessed in the above poster.

To remedy this terrible confusion, I will say that to be kind always means that one is right. There is no exception to this rule. Any time you are being kind, you cannot help but be right.

In the light of this realization, one can more easily see how tragically misguided is the sentiment that formulated the above poster.

It's Not About You

My mother died ten days ago. When I heard the news, my first reaction was a friendly welcome. A feeling of welcoming a very dear friend.

Now, that reaction may strike you as being completely odd, even inappropriate. You may be now wondering: "Alex, where is the sadness and the sorrow that every living human being must feel upon learning that their mother passed away?" Here is why I think my knee-jerk feeling of sadness was almost instantaneously replaced by the feeling of embracing a new, long awaited friend:

It's not because I didn't love my mother, or because I wasn't close to her, or because we had unresolved issues. No, I've been close to my mother my entire life, and we cared for and deeply loved each other. It's also not the case of witnessing someone suffering long and unbearable illness, and wishing for a swift mercy death. No, my mother was healthy, in good spirits. She died suddenly, from a heart attack (even though she was only 74 years old).

But an event as significant as my mother's death revealed something to me that was a lesson worth learning. Instead of taking this sad event as the tragedy that unexpectedly happened to me, I was blessed with the insight that could be summed in the following sentence: "It's not about you, it's about her!"

There is an enormous feeling of liberation whenever we manage to leave the world of personal convenience and neglect our puny egomaniacal concerns, and place our selves in other people's position. My mother's dying instantly put me into that position. All I was concerned with was her own situation, not mine.

This feeling helped me tremendously in solidifying my own convictions that self is irrelevant, and that the meaning of life can only be found in seeing through the falsity that is masquerading as self, or ego. This is why I consider my mother's death as her gift to me. She gave me the gift of life, she gave me the gift of teaching me how to survive, and now she gave me the final gift -- the gift of knowing how to die.

So, no matter what happens, it really helps if you carry with you a strong insight that it's never about you. You, as a separate being, are irrelevant. If you can clearly see that, then there will be no more obstacles to stop you in releasing your lion's roar of liberation!

Theory About Theories

To live a human life is to be engrossed in the ocean of theories. For example, right now you are engaged in this theory of reading someone's blog post. Later on, you may be dealing with another theory, the one that states that you are drinking a cup of coffee. And so on.

The trouble is, we take all these theories for granted. We take any theoretical proposition, such as that the earth is flat, or that the earth is round, or that the light consists of waves of energy, or that it consists of a stream of particles, or both, or neither, etc., and then believe it to be the absolute truth. Despite the fact that most of us have been forewarned, either by our religious and spiritual teacher, or by our scientists, that the nature of the evidence is at best very suspect, we still continue to disregard these advices.

So why do theories keep surfacing? The mind incessantly weaves patterns of activities, which are very deeply based on our intentions, seated at the core of our consciousness. It is a gross mistake to take those patterns as representing something real, something substantial. Better to recognize them as theories.

This is why Socrates exclaimed that unexamined life is not worth living. Basically, as we go down our chosen path in life, it is our responsibility not to leave any stone unturned.

What is a Theory?

Yes, but what exactly is a theory? According to Karl Popper, one of the leading thinkers in the 20th century philosophy, a theory is a falsifiable hypothesis.

For example, Newton's theoretical attempts at explaining how the reality works are valid theories, because they are falsifiable -- there is a conceivable set of circumstances that could falsify his claims (this actually did happen with Einstein's introduction of the Theory of Relativity, which completely falsifies Newton's view of the universe).

On the other hand, Freud's hypothesis that lead to the formulation of Psychoanalysis does not qualify as being a proper theory, because it is not falsifiable. In other words, one cannot imagine a set of circumstances that could disprove Freud's claims that a person's psyche is completely determined by the events that occurred during that person's early childhood.

What is a Theory About Theories?

A 'theory about theories' is simply just another word for 'Buddhist practice'. Our practice is nothing else but one continuous awareness about theories.

Through cultivating this awareness that each and every pattern emanating from our minds could be viewed as a theory, and is thus falsifiable, we cultivate pure and complete liberation. Only a person who is constantly aware of the theories surrounding each and every activity around us, can taste the unsurpassed sweetness of total liberation.

This culture of 'theory about theories' is the ultimate knowledge about the impossibility of knowing anything. As such, it is utterly liberating. Nothing ever gets spared from its penetrating gaze.

For example, I have undergone, through my intense Buddhist practice, the experience of enlightenment. I can pinpoint the exact place in space and time where this all encompassing and obliterating experience occurred. I have indeed experienced that state which people refer to as satori, or nirvana, the everlasting and the most profound peace.

But all along I'm perfectly aware that this experience is just a theory. I don't view it as being something real, something substantial. It is just another in the series of experiences that need to be examined. It is just another of the theories that need to be subsumed in our practice of 'theories about theories'.

Why is this practice so powerful, so as to surpass even the highest achievements of the divine celestial beings? The reason is simple -- 'theory about theories' has the power to short-circuit any attempts at the runaway escalation of the meta levels. Simply put, even though it is possible to have a theory about theories, it would be impossible to have a theory about a theory about theories, and so on.

Any such attempt immediately collapses to the one and only 'theory about theories'.

To Take It or Not to Take It Personally?

Buddhist practice is solely concerned with human condition. And the most prevalent characteristic of human condition is that we tend to take events that happen to us very personally.

This is the cause for many a suffering. Being extremely sensitive personally is not a fun way to go through life.

So what do Buddhist practitioners do to get out of that hole? They basically have a choice of two courses of action:

1. Don't take things that concern them personally
2. Take those things personally, but in addition, take everything else that occurs personally as well

In truth, both the above courses of action boil down to the same thing. If a practitioner choses the 'don't take it personally' path, that will liberate him from the bondage of being confined inside the prison of his body and mind. But if another practitioner takes another recommended course of action and starts taking everything personally, he will also be completely liberated from the prison. By taking onto himself all the other people's travails, he will become fully aware of the self, an will consequently forget all about the self.

Thus, he will be freed.

Intentions

I've been practicing the Buddhist way for more than 20 years now. The more I manage to penetrate the recondite teaching of the Buddha, the more I'm beginning to realize that there is only one thing, only one factor it all resolves to.

Yes, despite the claims of many practitioners that it cannot be resolved, there is the magic word, there is the holy grail of the Buddhist practice. It all boils down to this -- intention.

Intention is what changes everything. Anything that is happening right now is the result of our previous intentions. And the things that are going to happen to us sometime in the future will be the direct outcome of our present intentions.

Once you realize this, you know that you need to work with intentions. Like, when you get up in the morning, you need to ask yourself about your intentions. What do I intend to do today? But don't limit yourself to the surface stuff, like I intend to have a shower, eat breakfast, go to work, etc. Dig a bit deeper. Ask yourself: do I intend to feel good? Do I intend to feel inspired?

And, if your answer is 'yes' (as I'm pretty sure will be the case most of the time), ask yourself additionally how do you intend to accomplish that.

This how is the vital question. It points back to your practice. If you want to make yourself feel good, you will soon realize that you cannot do it if you make others miserable. So, your clear course of action is to make those around you feel good about themselves. This is where the true Zen practice starts.

The deepest, truest intention of Buddhist practitioners is to experience Buddhahood. And the only way to do that is to work with one's intentions. If your intentions are selfish, you will not be able to get anywhere near Buddhahood, that's for sure.

So I believe that the most important thing for us is to make an effort to focus on our intentions. When I approach a situation, what are my deepest, truest intentions? If it turns out that my intentions are to exploit the situation in order to aggrandize my own puny little imaginary ego, then I cannot expect to get anywhere near to experiencing even the tiniest glimpse of Buddhahood.