Compassion

 

"Reflections of Compassion" by renowned Thai artist, Udawn Srihawong. See other original art by this artist at http://boonmee.com/wallart.html 

 

TRUE COMPASSION

 

         It is easy to feel compassion for  those we love or care about but it is not so easy to forgive or have compassion for those who have harmed us or have caused suffering to others by their words and actions. As long as we view our selves separate from other beings and objects in the material world, true compassion for all beings can never arise.

         Working at the deepest level of our mind to root out our own anger, hatred, ill-well, greed, and jealousy, we begin to clear the view, enabling us to experience our connection with all beings. Vipassana, or Insight Meditation, is a technique discovered and taught by the Buddha that helps one do the work that leads to an experiential understanding of the causes of all suffering and allows wisdom and compassion to arise. This leads to a life of skillful living and true happiness.

I am reminded of a poem by the Vietnamese Zen master and peace worker Thich Nhat Hanh where he expresses so beautifully the possibility of an all-embracing compassion and loving kindness, without boundary and without discrimination. There is a seeing that all of it, all of life, is in each of us, and that we can relate to it all with an open heart.

 

PLEASE CALL ME BY MY TRUE NAMES

                                                By Thich Nhat Hanh

Do not say that I’ll depart tomorrow

because even today I still arrive.

 

Look deeply; I arrive in every second

to be the a bud on a spring branch,

to be a tiny bird, with wings still fragile

          learning to sing in my new nest,

to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower,

to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.

 

I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry,

in order to fear and to hope,

the rhythm of my heart is the birth and death

of all that are alive.

 

I am the mayfly metamorphosing on

          the surface of the river,

and I am the bird which, when spring comes,

          arrives in time to eat the mayfly.

 

Iam a frog swimming happily in the clear

          water of a pond,

and I am the grass-snake, who, approaching

          in silence, feeds itself on the frog.

I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones,

my legs as thin as bamboo sticks,

and I am the arms merchant, selling deadly weapons

to Uganda.

 

I am the twelve year old girl, refugee on a

          small boat,

who throws herself into the ocean

          after being raped by a sea pirate,

and I am the pirate, my heart not yet

          capable of seeing and loving.

I am a member of the Politburo with plenty

          of power in my hands,

and I am the man who has to pay his debt of

          blood to my people dying slowly in a

          forced labor camp.

 

My joy is like spring, so warm it makes

          flowers bloom in all walks of life.

My pain is like a river of tears, so full

          it fills all four oceans.

Please call me by my true names,

so I can hear all my cries and laughter at once,

so I can see that my joy and pain are one.

 

Please call me by my true names

so I can wake up and let the door of my heart

          stay open,

the door of compassion.