Have you ever thought who is the most important person in your Buddhist practice? You might think it is the Buddha. After all, He is a great example for us, someone who was able to attain enlightenment in the past, who’s teachings we study and put into practice in our lives. Without Him, Buddhism would not exist. On the other hand, ultimately we have to put His teachings into practice ourselves. It doesn’t matter whether someone has the greatest teacher in the world, if they don’t want to learn, and make an effort to understand, it’s not of much help. So, maybe we should recognise that we are at the centre of our Buddhist practice. There has to be someone (us) to do it, after all. What do you think?
In most other religions there is always this kind of hierarchy. Either we are the most important and just work on our own salvation by ourselves, or a creator God is the most important, and we and everyone else should submit to His will as He is supreme. As you read this you might think, “Well, of course we’re not the most important.” But, is the Buddha?…Actually in Buddhism this kind of hierarchy does not exist. What Buddhism does teach, though, is that we should always keep in mind that we are of secondary importance. We are not number one.
Over the Christmas holiday-period I met up with an old friend and flatmate from my time as a student. We reminisced about all of the things we got up to, the stupid and crazy things we did, the stupid and crazy things other people did, and imagined what those we are no longer in contact with might be doing now. What struck me from our conversation was just how different our recollections were of many of the same events. Even though we had been in the same place at the same time, and experienced the same things, his accounts of them were completely different to mine. There was such a disparity between our memories of them, and our interpretations, a few times it made me wonder if we were even talking about the same events!
Have you ever had a similar experience? I’ve heard many times of three people giving three totally different accounts of the same event. Our memory is a crucial part of our ability to live and understand the world. If you were to take memory out of the equation entirely, we wouldn’t be able to understand anything. We wouldn’t even be able to open a door. We’d have to re-learn how a door handle worked every time we saw one. However, there is a danger with memory: it makes us think we know. However, how can we be sure our memory is correct? How can we know it is true?
It is the same with our points of view. Everybody has their own. We tend to hold ours as the most important, the most reliable. However we should keep some space for the possibility that we might not have everything right. Otherwise our opinion is simply pride and arrogance, which closes all the doors to personal progress. In order to be able to learn, you must be open to the possibility that you are mistaken.
The purpose of all spirituality and religion is to help us develop. But if religion ends up creating conflict, and possessiveness, it actually contaminates our minds. This can even happen with Buddhism. If it does, it’s a sign we’re practising incorrectly. In fact that is the opposite of practising the Dharma.
A key part of Buddhist practice is cultivating humility. Humility does not mean a lack of self-esteem, a lack of confidence in your own ability, or an inferiority complex. Humility means keeping any exaggeration of your “self” in check.
Humility is an important component of altruism. Social studies have shown that those who overestimate themselves show a greater tendency to aggression than the average. When we are humble we naturally become more open to other people because we are less concerned with ourselves. The humble person is naturally concerned about others and attentive to their well-being. With humility we are also able to recognise our how inter-connected we all are. This is very important to live peacefully within society.
As for the benefits we ourselves receive from humility, the biggest is freedom. Humility is a bit of a forgotten quality in today’s world: everything is about how you appear to others. We are told to make a good impression, be beautiful. People edit their social media profiles to present the best possible image of themselves, putting up only photos in which they look good; de-tagging themselves from embarrassing ones; posting about great events in order to give others the message they’re having a wonderful time and are popular, exciting and interesting. How often do we do these things unconsciously? We do similar things to protect our reputations when we interact with other people face-to-face. We always prefer praise to criticism.
With real humility, you are free of this. With real humility there can’t even be humiliation, because humiliation is based on ego - thinking of me and mine. Humility is freedom from the control of ego. So, how can we control our ego and develop humility, and a caring attitude?
I remember the first time I went to a Shami Seminar at the NBIC. I really enjoyed the classes, but mealtimes were actually one of the most difficult parts for me! I had thought mealtimes would be a time to relax, but mealtimes weren’t at all what I envisioned.
During such training, meals are in total silence, and the students have to constantly be ready to serve the teachers if they look like they would like more food or tea. Sometimes it is difficult to finish your own food because you’re taking care of others needs. I remember sitting on the edge of my seat the whole time when I was sitting down, and trying to eat as fast as possible when I wasn’t up serving tea or getting more rice or soup for others.
Although it was very difficult at first, I came to appreciate the mealtimes as a training in being aware of what is going on around you, and giving up your own comfort in order to help and serve others. This Buddhist practice of serving others is called “O-kyūji”. Here in London at the temple, I also serve people tea and cake, and when my master was here I served him as attentively as I could. Actually, that is expected of a Shami, but I voluntarily did it because that is a form of practice for me.
What is your “O-kyūji”? Our temple is a dojo - a place of practice. It is not only a place to receive, but it is also a place for you to practise giving. Therefore when you come, please try to intentionally serve others. Serve them tea. Offer to wash up the dishes. Help someone find their place in the sūtra book if they get lost.
Coming to the temple not only to practise meditation and chanting together and learn about the Buddha and Nichiren Shonin’s teachings, but to practise serving like this is an extremely valuable practice to learn to develop a Buddhist attitude, the attitude of a Bodhisattva.
Please keep a humble mind, and practise serving others. With these two approaches we can enjoy life. A happy approach to life is to see each day as something new and fresh, and to help those around you.