Who Are We in Between our Thinking?

I have been participating in a 5 Week Course in Mindfulness Meditation ("Vispana" in the parlance of Buddhism). The course is being taught by Gil Fronsdal at the Insight Meditation Center in Redwood CA. Although there has been a lot building up to what I am talking about here, I thought I would share some insights into something that was taught in the course today.

The question is: "Who are we in between our thinking?" Mindfulness draws awareness to the fact that we spend much of our time caught up in various thinking processes, for example, planning for the future. During Mindfulness meditation, we seek to recognize this process for what it is, and in turn provide ourselves with a sense of freedom and liberation. Fronsdal points out that as humans, there is an epidemic of the following process:

- Something happening to us, or a thought arises
- This thought or eventleads us down a path of: if I do this, then this will happen, then this will happen, then this will happens and therefore this will happen ... etc.
- We then walk around in these thinking processes, not living in the moment for minutes, hours, days ....
- Then we run into other humans who are engaging in similar webs of thought and not living in the present
- So here are two humans down two wholly independent "rat holes" trying to have a meaningful interaction in the present moment

While Mindfulness Practice does not judge thinking as bad, it teaches us to recognize thinking for what it is, and look at it as somewhat of of an outsider. We then come back to the breath as the center of our attention, trying to "live in the breath" in the present moment.

There are also some further investigations which might be made during the meditation, such as recognizing that the thinking is only a flag for some underlying emotion. For example, fear might bring one to an intensive planning process. That thinking tries to bring us to a point of safety psychologically. In that case, with Vispanan practice, you gently recognize the emotion, don't judge it as good or bad, simply put it aside, and then come back to the breath.

So the question again: "Who are we in between our thinking?" I would be curious to hear some answers to that. This Holiday Season, if you turn off that voice in your head that's planning the presents, the tree, the time off from work at the office; then who are we in those independent moments without thinking? Some people are afraid of it. I can say that personally I have been able to catch glimpses of this and I think it is a very beautiful thing that can bring a greater sense of pleasure to the things that are going on around us in the present.

See if you can for just a few moments sit quietly, close your eyes, and turn off the voice inside your head, and only observe your breathing. See if during the day you can recognize when you are going through elaborate (and perhaps somewhat unnecessary) webs of planning, or lament about past mistakes or missed opportunities (for example). How does this thinking prevent you from fully engaging in the present and experience life to the fullest?

Can you be Thankful for another long post?

Happy Thanksgiving to those that celebrate the holiday. With so much to do and prepare, traveling to be done in possibly foul weather, concern about overeating and anticipation of initiating the marathon Christmas shopping, it is sometimes possible, at least for me, to forget to be "Thankful". [Yes, this photo is of our dog Frito, taken on Thanksgiving Day, 2005, in New England.]

But in the quiet times, when I reflect on life, the world, and our purpose, it becomes very clear that Gratitude is an excellent mechanism to help focus on the Now, see the beauty amongst that which is not so beautiful, and recognize just how insignificant our trials and tribulations are (even when they seem so overwhelming).


And from this attitude of gratefulness, bubbles up a spring of compassion, love, and generosity -- which feeds the pool called Lovingkindness -- that will ultimately flow into contentment, enrichment, and joy. What a great practice.


May you use Thanksgiving as a reminder of the value of this daily practice of Selfless Gratitude. And since I'm no expect, I've included an article below from this month's Yoga Journal that better explains the concept.

S-

Selfless Gratitude

Through the mindfulness practice of gratitude, you are able to rejoice amidst all life's suffering.

By Philipp Moffitt

Students leaving a meditation retreat will sometimes ask me to recommend a mindfulness practice they can incorporate into their daily routine that will keep them in touch with the experiences they've had during the retreat. There are many such practices, but occasionally I suggest one that almost always surprises them and sometimes draws skepticism—the mindful cultivation of gratitude. Gratitude is the sweetest of all the practices for living the dharma in daily life and the most easily cultivated, requiring the least sacrifice for what is gained in return. It is a very powerful form of mindfulness practice, particularly for students who have depressive or self-defeating feelings, those who have access to wonder as an ecstatic state, and those with a reactive personality who habitually notice everything that's wrong in a situation.

The Buddha taught that every human birth is precious and worthy of gratitude. In one of his well-known analogies, he said that receiving a human birth is more rare than the chance that a blind turtle floating in the ocean would stick its head through a small hoop. He would often instruct a monk to take his ground cloth into the forest, sit at the base of a tree, and begin "gladdening the heart" by reflecting on the series of fortunate circumstances that had given the monk the motivation and ability to seek freedom through understanding the dharma.

Practicing mindfulness of gratitude consistently leads to a direct experience of being connected to life and the realization that there is a larger context in which your personal story is unfolding. Being relieved of the endless wants and worries of your life's drama, even temporarily, is liberating. Cultivating thankfulness for being part of life blossoms into a feeling of being blessed, not in the sense of winning the lottery, but in a more refined appreciation for the interdependent nature of life. It also elicits feelings of generosity, which create further joy. Gratitude can soften a heart that has become too guarded, and it builds the capacity for forgiveness, which creates the clarity of mind that is ideal for spiritual development.

Let me be clear: The practice of gratitude is not in any way a denial of life's difficulties. We live in troubling times, and no doubt you've experienced many challenges, uncertainties, and disappointments in your own life. Nor does the practice of gratitude deny the Buddha's teaching on death: Death is certain; your death is certain; the time of death is unknown; the time of your death is unknown. Rather, gratitude practice is useful because it turns the mind in such a way that it enables you to live into life or, more accurately, to die into life. Having access to the joy and wonderment of life is the antidote to feelings of scarcity and loss. It allows you to meet life's difficulties with an open heart. The understanding you gain from practicing gratitude frees you from being lost or identified with either the negative or the positive aspects of life, letting you simply meet life in each moment as it rises.

In the Bible the disciple Paul instructs, "In everything give thanks." What he means is that from your limited perspective it is not possible to know the outcome of any event. What can seem unfortunate at first may turn out to be an unforeseen blessing.

There is a very old Sufi story about a man whose son captured a strong, beautiful, wild horse, and all the neighbors told the man how fortunate he was. The man patiently replied, "We will see." One day the horse threw the son who broke his leg, and all the neighbors told the man how cursed he was that the son had ever found the horse. Again the man answered, "We will see." Soon after the son broke his leg, soldiers came to the village and took away all the able-bodied young men, but the son was spared. When the man's friends told him how lucky the broken leg was, the man would only say, "We will see." Gratitude for participating in the mystery of life is like this.

The Sufi poet Rumi speaks of the mystery of life coming from God in his poem "The Guest House": "This being human is a guest house / Every morning a new arrival. / A joy, a depression, a meanness / some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor. / Welcome and entertain them all! / Even if they're a crowd of sorrows / who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture. / Still, treat each guest honorably. / He may be clearing you out for some new delight." (The Essential Rumi. Coleman Barks, HarperSanFrancisco, 1995.) Gratitude practiced in this manner brings delight, balances out your tendency to focus on the negative, and can even lift a dark mood.

Counting Your Blessings
There are numerous ways to use mindfulness to cultivate gratitude. Of course you acknowledge your appreciation when things are going well. But even more helpful is to notice those things for which you are grateful when you are contracted physically or emotionally. I often instruct students to respond to a difficult situation by acknowledging it as such, then saying to themselves, "Yes, this is terrible, and I am grateful for . . . ." An example would be, "I am angry at this moment, and I am grateful I have a mind which knows this is so and can deal with it." I also encourage students to focus on the wonderment of nature and the human capacity for learning and creating. It is so easy to only notice the terrible aspects of human beings so that wonderment is often forgotten.
You can reflect on gratitude by inquiring if it is time-based. Ask yourself what happened to all the gratitude you have felt in the past? Where did it go? Do you believe that gratitude is dependent on feeling good right now? If so, isn't that a very small-minded, "what have you done for me lately?" attitude? Would it not imply that your gratitude is contingent upon an exchange—as long as you feel good, you will be grateful, and if not, forget it. This is not the quality of gratitude that leads to a mystical, direct experience of life; it is an unskillful blackmail or emotional demand on the universe.

You can also practice being consciously grateful to your family, friends, teachers, benefactors, and all those who have come before you who have made it possible for your existence to be comfortable, informed, and empowered. Take a few minutes at the end of each day to mentally note the many people who have invisibly served you by providing medicine, shelter, safety, food, and education.

If you were asked to make a list of things for which you are grateful, how long would this list be—20 items, 100, 500? Most likely you would include your health, your mind's ability to function well, family, friends, and freedom. But would it include the basics, like a safe place to sleep, clean air and water, food, and medicine? What about for Earth itself, blue skies, a child's laughter, a warm touch, the smell of spring, the tang of salt, the sweetness of sugar, or that morning cup of coffee?

The making of such a list is not meant to make you feel indebted but is intended to clarify your understanding of how life really is. It is a reflective meditation that uses mindfulness to carry you beyond the superficial to a deeper experience of your life unfolding moment by moment. You learn to throw off the blinders of habitual assumptions that prevent you from perceiving the miracle of life.

The next step in gratitude practice is to actively notice things you are grateful for throughout your regular day. For instance, when you're stuck in traffic and it's making you late and irritated, you notice you can be thankful you have transportation and that other drivers are abiding by the agreed-upon driving rules, which prevent chaos and unsafe conditions. In other words, there is a level of well-being and community cooperation that is supporting you even in the midst of your bad day. And you do this not just once or twice, but a hundred times each day. You do so not to get out of a bad mood or to be a nicer person, but with the intention of clearly seeing the true situation of your life. Traffic remains frustrating, but the inner experience of how your life is unfolding begins to shift. Slowly you become clearer about what really matters to you, and there is more ease in your daily experience.

You might ask yourself about your "gratitude ratio." Do you experience the good things in your life in true proportion to the bad things? Or do the bad things receive a disproportionate amount of your attention, such that you have a distorted sense of your life? It can be shocking to examine your life this way because you may begin to realize how you are being defined by an endless series of emotional reactions, many of which are based on relatively unimportant, temporary desires. When you look at how much griping you do versus how much gratitude you feel, you realize how far off your emotional response is from your real situation. The purpose of this inquiry is not to judge yourself but rather to motivate yourself to find a truer perspective. Why would you want to go around with a distorted view of your life, particularly when it makes you miserable?

Without instruction, reflecting on gratitude can seem boring or sentimental, evoking memories of your mother admonishing you to eat all the food on your plate. Part of the confusion is that many people have come to equate gratitude with obligation. But real gratitude begins as appreciation for that which has come into your life. Out of this appreciation, a natural, spontaneous emotion arises that is gratitude, which is often followed by generosity. When gratitude comes from indebtedness, by definition what's been given cannot have been a gift.

There is a shadow side to gratitude, in which reality gets distorted in yet another way. It manifests as a hopeless or helpless attitude disguised as gratitude, and it expresses itself in a self-defeating, passive voice—"Yes, these things are wrong and unfair, but I should be grateful for what I have," or "At least we have this," or "Compared to these people, look how much better off we are." This voice, whether it is an inner voice or comes from someone else, is not to be trusted. Gratitude is not an excuse for being passive in the face of personal or societal need or injustice. You are not excused from working to become a caring person, creating a better life for your loved ones, or protecting the innocent. Acknowledging the great gift of a human life through gratitude is just the opposite; it is a call to action to be a caring human being while acknowledging the folly of basing your happiness on the outcome of your actions.

Shortchanging Gratitude
Many students ask, If experiencing gratitude feels so good, why do we often shortchange it? If you will answer this question for yourself, you will gain much insight into how you make your life more difficult than it need be. Sometimes you shortchange gratitude because your mind is stuck in problem-solving mode; it only notices what isn't working and sets about trying to resolve it. This might seem desirable, but in fact there will always be things wrong in your life. So you reduce your experience of being alive if you are only responding to the negative. Is that what you want out of life? Do you really want to delay your sense of being alive while you await a future, perfect moment that is unlikely to arrive?
A second reason you might shortchange gratitude is related to the first: The mind tends to take for granted whatever is both desirable and present. This happens because the mind wants constant stimulation, and whatever is present and pleasant tends not to create that stimulation. You can see this for yourself around eating a favorite food: Notice how the first few bites taste so delicious, then how quickly the mind ceases to register the pleasant sensations. It is like this with everything—a cool breeze on a hot day, the sound of a stream as it flows over rocks, the freshness of the morning air after a rain. They all simply disappear from consciousness in the untrained mind. However, a mind trained in mindfulness of gratitude will stay attuned far longer and note more details of that which is good.

The phenomenon of comparing mind is another hindrance to practicing gratitude. It is the aspect of your mind that notices, "She has a nicer car than I do," "He is stronger than I am," or "She is a better yogini than I am." Understand that there is a difference between discernment, the factor of mind that sees things clearly, and comparing mind, which exercises judgment and hides a belief system that says, "If only I have more of the right things, I will be happy." This is a false belief, of course, a mental habit really, but because it is unacknowledged and seldom examined, it holds enormous power in your life.

Unrecognized arrogance arising from a hidden sense of entitlement can also be an obstacle to practicing gratitude. When you have a strong feeling of entitlement, you don't notice what is going well, but rather what is not right. It can stem from a sense of either having suffered unfairly or having been deprived. It can also arise from feeling special because you are smart, a hard worker, or successful. At the subtle level of mindfulness, this arrogance is a form of ignorance where these two truths of life are mixed together.

Finding Grace Through Gratitude
The words "gratitude" and "grace" share a common origin: the Latin word gratus, meaning "pleasing" or "thankful." When you are in a deep state of gratitude, you will often spontaneously feel the presence of grace. The grace in receiving a human life is that it grants you the capacity to experience that which is beyond the mind and body—call it God, emptiness, Brahman, Allah, or the Ground of the Absolute.
Reflect on this: You, with all your flaws, have been chosen for this opportunity to consciously taste life, to know it for what it is, and to make of it what you are able. This gift of a conscious life is grace, even when your life is filled with great difficulty and it may not feel like a gift at the time.

When Henry Thoreau went into retreat at Walden Pond, he and his friend Ralph Emerson had been studying Hindu, Buddhist, and Taoist texts. He wrote: "I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived." He understood that conscious life was a gift for which the highest form of gratitude was to know it in all its depths.

This grace of conscious life, of having a mind that can know "this moment is like this," is the root of all wonder, from which gratitude flows. The wonder, the mystery, is that you, like everyone else, are given this short, precious time of conscious embodiment in which you can directly know life for yourself. However you find life to be—cruel or kind, sorrowful or joyous, bland or stimulating, indifferent or filled with love—you get the privilege of knowing it firsthand.

Gratitude for the grace of conscious embodiment evolves into the practice of selfless gratitude, in which your concerns slowly but surely shift from being mostly about yourself and those close to you to being about all living beings. As this occurs, you need less and less in the way of good fortune. It becomes enough that there are those who are happy, who are receiving love, who are safe, and who have a promising future. It is not that you would not prefer good things for yourself, but your sense of well-being is no longer contingent on external circumstances. You are able to rejoice that amidst all life's suffering there exists joy. You realize that pain and joy are part of a mysterious whole. When this state of selfless gratitude starts to blossom, your mind becomes more spacious, quieter, and your heart receives its first taste of the long-sought release from fear and wanting. This is grace.

"Dharma Wisdom" columnist Phillip Moffitt is a member of the Spirit Rock Teachers' Council in Woodacre, California, and the founder and president of the Life Balance Institute. He teaches vipassana meditation at Turtle Island Yoga Center in San Rafael, California. For a retreat schedule, check www.lifebalance.org.

Happiness and Love (Not Love and Happiness)

Grasshopper posts ...

I'd like to put a few things together:

 - I think if we had the opportunity to ask God the question:  "Why am I here?"  The answer would be "To Love."
 
 - A friend of mine who I met in Bangkok recently explained to me his philosophy of life over beer which goes something like this:  "It is our *responsibility* in life to make ourselves happy.  In doing so we make those around us happy and thereby spread love."  So according to him, this is not just something that is "nice to do."  But it's a responsibility.
 
 - "Option," a philosophy of life taught at the Option Institute in western MA teaches us that we indeed are responsible for our own happiness.   According to Option, we make a choice every day that our feet hit the ground:  We can be sad or happy.  Option makes no negative judgement about the choice to be sad, it simply makes people realize that it is a conscious choice that we make every day.
 
 -  Buddhism teaches (as I understand it) that we have a fundamental responsibility to take care of ourselves.  It's not selfish, but a realization that only in caring for ourselves, can we then take care of others.  This "Precept" also keeps us from getting preoccupied with the business of others.
 
 What do these things put together to mean?  When we are faced with difficult decisions in life, decisions which we think will lead us to happiness, it's our responsibility stick our necks out.  We can feel all kinds of distracting things such as "I don't deserve this" (undue guilt), or "I may fall flat on my face" (irrational fear).  We may fall flat on our faces and in the process learn from our mistakes.  However only in taking full responsibility for our lives, and in taking the chance, do we discover the way to our true happiness, and are ultimately able to love others to our full potential.
 
 I am not saying that we act irresponsibly.  The choices need to be well thought and not involve unnecessary risk.  However, only in becoming the happiest person that we can be, do we afford ourselves the opportunity to love and help others "to the Max."  These decisions will involve courage.  I always remember what Shakelton said:  "Optimism is the True Moral Courage."  
 
 Here's the quote that precipitated this thinking:
 
 Weekly Wisdom Message November 21, 2005
 
 CORRELATION:
 
 I noticed
 the happier I am,
 the more loving
 I am.
 It was nice
 to notice that. 
 
 Reprinted from Out-Smarting Your Karma.
 Copyright © 1996 by Barry Neil Kaufman.
 All Rights Reserved. Published by Epic Century
 Publishers.
 
 Request our FREE brochure:
 http://www.option.org/i_lit.html.

Accepting Acceptance

Well, we had a spectactular weekend in Cambridge for our little Buddhist retreat. jim and I took in both the Friday evening "executive summary" and the Saturday "apparently you don't have a life" all-day session. We had a great time, and couldn't have asked for better weather. I also want to thank jim's friend, Patty, who let me crash at her place in Lexington to save some driving time, as well as have some nice conversation.

And the retreat was great, and I'll highly recommend it to any who want to find out more about Buddhism from a very down-to-earth teacher, Lama Surya Das. Check it out in my links 'Buddhism for the West of us'. [And you can blame me for the pun.]

So what did I learn? Well, actually, quite a lot, so let me see if I can express one aspect of it. For those (few) of you that have followed this Seekers list for quite some time, you may recall some discussion a while back about what I saw as a possible contradiction in Buddhism: a desire to "change the world" (aka reduce suffering) and a recognition that "everything is perfect just as it is". So I asked about this. And the answer was (in retrospect) pretty obvious. For those that see the world in black and white, seek out the middle way (which is what Buddha taught). These apparent contradictions are simply a reflection of a dualistic world view. Basically, having some "acceptance" (of the world, of yourself) goes a long way toward breaking down the apparent dichotomy.

Segue to a bucolic Lexington street, the next morning, where I was taking an early walk. I was watching a group of squirrels playing in the trees. My wife and I had previously noted that there are very few acorns this year (especially compared to the bumper crop last year), so I was thinking about how "bad" that would be for the squirrels. Then I got it. That's not "bad." That is just the way it is. Which by the way is the key to Buddhism -- recognizing the world as it really is, and not getting caught up in the duality and relativism of good and bad.

So by accepting the world (or a person, or yourself) as it is, you can approach it with detachment from the outcome, and still be the best person you know how to be (most compassionate, most patient, most forgiving, most generous, most wise, you get the idea). Surely that will contribute to less suffering (even if only in yourself). And perhaps more subtley, you can begin to accept that which many see as "bad", and on a good day, like we had on Saturday, you might even begin to see its beauty.

Segue to apparently totally unrealated topic, but hold on for just another minute.

I'm reminded of a movie I saw not long ago: American Beauty. Have you seen it? It is a remarkable film (once you get past the dysfunctional families). I was particularly taken by the character Ricky Fitts, the neighbor 'psychopath' that videotapes everything. Does anyone remember the scene (or did I just make this up) where he was describing seeing a homeless woman that had frozen to death the night before, and he couldn't stop looking because it was so ... what? Disgusting? Depressing? Sad? Unfair? No, he couldn't stop looking becuase it was so ... Beautiful. A related specific quote (and clip) can be seen here: http://www.destinationhollywood.com/movies/americanbeauty/quickclip_13.shtml

Ricky Fitts (Wes Bentley): "Sometimes there's so much ... beauty ... in the world ... I feel like I can't take it."

And of course, if you saw the movie you remember the closing voice over by the recently murdered Lester Burnham (Kevin Spacey):

"I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me…but it’s hard to stay mad, when there’s so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I’m seeing it all at once, and it’s too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that’s about to burst. And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold onto it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can’t feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life. ... You have no idea what I’m talking about, I’m sure … But don’t worry … you will someday."

It's an interesting experience, which really came true for me on Saturday ... to see everything in the world, and see nothing but beauty. That's worth seeking. That's the power of acceptance.

S-

What would Chris do? ['t' intentionally missing]

As many of you know, I am on a number of internet newsletter lists. Indeed, I'm on one from Michael Josephson thanks to a member of this seekers list. It's not about spirituality, but rather ethics and character. If you would like to subscribe or learn more, click on 'Character Counts' in my links section.

Anyway, this story is from the current issue. I think it speaks volumes about the true nature of the human condition, and potential within all of us.

S-








Two Sets of Proud Parents 434.4 (from Michael Josephson)

I received an e-mail with a story worth sharing. Only the names have been changed to preserve privacy.

Doug is the proud and loving father of Emma, a high school junior who takes a leadership class responsible for putting on dances and other student events. All student body officers must take the class, but a number of other kids like Emma who just like to participate are also enrolled. Well, Emma is a little different and she's becoming more aware of those differences. Recently, she began to tell her father through tears, "I don`t like having Down`s Syndrome."

Doug comforted and encouraged his daughter the best he could, but he admits he always wonders how her classmates really perceive her. Do they just tolerate or patronize her, or do they see the richness of her character and appreciate her sense of humor and the beauty of her heart?

These concerns came into play when he visited Emma at a school event where she was working at a table with the student body president, a handsome kid named Chris. Later, Emma announced that Chris had invited her to the homecoming dance. Doug was doubtful and afraid that she might be embarrassed or hurt if she misunderstood. So he checked with the leadership teacher, who discreetly confirmed it was true. This extraordinary young man had asked Emma to accompany him to dinner and the dance.

Doug was moved to tears and confessed he was ashamed he had doubted this could happen. He wrote of his joy seeing his daughter prepare for one of the greatest days in her life. And he marveled at the kindness and self-confidence of the young man who was able to see and care about the inner Emma.

Doug was rightfully proud of Emma, but how good would you feel to be Chris`s parents?

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

The Ripple Effect

Thought I’d forward this parable I received from the ‘net. I liked it. Seems to sum up a lot about how most of us operate in this world. Also seems to provide good rationale for seeking (at least to me). If you want, feel free to comment. And if anyone wants to post their own new entry, e-mail it to me and I'll be happy to upload it for you.

Take care,

S-














The Ripple Effect

The Master was walking through the fields one day when a young man, a troubled look upon his face, approached him.

"On such a beautiful day, it must be difficult to stay so serious," the Master said.

"Is it? I hadn't noticed," the young man said, turning to look around and notice his surroundings. His eyes scanned the landscape, but nothing seemed to register; his mind elsewhere. Watching intently, the Master continued to walk.

"Join me if you like." The Master walked to the edge of a still pond, framed by sycamore trees, their leaves golden orange and about to fall.

"Please sit down," the Master invited, patting the ground next to him. Looking carefully before sitting, the young man brushed the ground to clear a space for himself.

"Now, find a small stone, please," the Master instructed.

"What?"

"A stone. Please find a small stone and throw it in the pond."

Searching around him, the young man grabbed a pebble and threw it as far as he could.

"Tell me what you see," the Master instructed.

Straining his eyes to not miss a single detail, the man looked at the water's surface.

"I see ripples."

"Where did the ripples come from?"

"From the pebble I threw in the pond, Master."

"Please reach your hand into the water and stop the ripples," the Master asked.

Not understanding, the young man stuck his hand in the water as a ripple neared, only to cause more ripples. The young man was now completely baffled. Where was this going? Had he made a mistake in seeking out the Master? After all he was not a student, perhaps he could not be helped? Puzzled, the young man waited.

"Were you able to stop the ripples with your hands?" the Master asked.

"No, of course not."

"Could you have stopped the ripples, then?"

"No, Master. I told you I only caused more ripples."

"What if you had stopped the pebble from entering the water to begin with?" The Master smiled such a beautiful smile; the young man could not be upset.

"Next time you are unhappy with your life, catch the stone before it hits the water. Do not spend time trying to undo what you have done. Rather, change what you are going to do before you do it." The Master looked kindly upon the young man.

"But Master, how will I know what I am going to do before I do it?"

"Take the responsibility for living your own life. If you're working with a doctor to treat an illness, then ask the doctor to help you understand what caused the illness. Do not just treat the ripples. Keep asking questions." The young man stopped, his mind reeling.

"But I came to you to ask you for answers. Are you saying that I know the answers?"

"You may not know the answers right now, but if you ask the right questions, then you shall discover the answers."

"But what are the right questions, Master?"

"There are no wrong questions, only unasked ones. We must ask, for without asking, we cannot receive answers. But it is your responsibility to ask. No one else can do that for you."

Unknown author