Picture a man sitting by the edge of a still pond, admiring the calm, serene, reflective quality of the water; truly relishing in its apparent qualities.

Now, let’s suppose every now and then a boat cruises by some 50 yards away from the shore, causing waves to appear, rushing toward the man and disturbing the stillness of the water. The man gets upset at the sight of the waves, so he jumps into the water and attempts to stop the waves using his hands. He tries pushing them down and breaking them apart. He even tries to hold them back so they don’t reach the shore. After a while he will see that the waves are not longer coming in, and he finishes his wave-stopping process until he feels the water is calm enough go back to sitting on the shore.

And then a storm comes. The howling wind disturbs the water, and rain drops splash through the surface. Again, the man jumps in, doing his best to shield the water from falling drops, and still the wind-blown surface. Eventually, the storm recedes. He finishes his work, and goes back to the edge of the shore, exhausted.

And then…

The man in this story fails to realize three very simple, yet important, things: First, that there’s nothing he can do to prevent the water from become disturbed on occasion. There are forces beyond his control, which do not under any circumstances surrender to his desire or will. Second, the act of jumping into the water and manipulating it only exacerbates the initial disturbance. Not only are there waves, but now there’s a man frantically thrashing about, bringing about even more chaos. And third, the water is of the nature to self-stabilize once the disturbance has passed. It didn’t become still because the man jumped in and made it so. Rather, it became still after it was allowed settle according to its own nature.

The man’s attachment to stillness may be the root of the problem. But, even if he remains attached to stillness, he is better off to not interfere with the water when it becomes disturbed. For, then he is likely to experience more stillness than would otherwise be the case. He could do nothing about his attachment and merely behave differently, and his attachment would be better fulfilled.

But, how much better would it be if the man no longer cared whether or not the water was still or disturbed? What if he could learn to appreciate the various ways that water behaves under the various changing circumstances of life, that remain utterly beyond his control? Why, he wouldn’t even need to speed all of his time tending to the shore. He could come and go as he pleases.

Now, that’s dharma!

Advertisement