Once there was a disciple of a Greek philosopher who was commanded by his Master for three years to give money to everyone who insulted him. When this period of trial was over the Master said to him, “Now you can go to Athens and learn Wisdom.” When the disciple was entering Athens, he met a certain wise man who sat at the gate insulting everybody who came and went. He also insulted the disciple, who burst out laughing. “Why do you laugh when I insult you?” said the wise man. “Because,” said the disciple, “for three years I have been paying for this kind of thing and now you give it to me for nothing.” “Enter the city,” said the wise man, “it is all yours ...”

Th^e fourth-century Desert Fathers, an assortment of eccentric characters who retired to the deserts around Scete for a life of sacrifice and prayer, taught this story to illustrate the value of suffering and hardship. It wasn’t hardship alone, however, that opened the “city of wisdom” to the disciple. The prime factor that allowed him to deal so effectively with a difficult situation was his capacity to shift perspective, to view his situation from a different vantage point.

The ability to shift perspective can be one of the most powerful and effective tools we have to help us cope with life’s daily problems. The Dalai Lama explained:

“The ability to look at events from different perspectives can be very helpful. Then, practicing this, one can use certain experiences, certain tragedies to develop a calmness of mind. One must realize that every phenomena, every event, has different aspects. Everything is of a relative nature. For example, in my own case, I lost my country. From that viewpoint, it is very tragic—and there are even worse things. There’s a lot of destruction happening in our country. That’s a very negative thing. But if I look at the same event from another angle, I realize that as a refugee, I have another perspective. As a refugee there is no need for formalities, ceremony, protocol. If everything were status quo, if things were okay, then on a lot of occasions you merely go through the motions_; you pretend. But when you are passing through desperate situations, there’s no time to pretend. So from that angle, this tragic experience has been very useful to me. Also, being a refugee creates a lot of new opportunities for meeting with many people. People from different religious traditions, from different walks of life, those who I may not have met had I remained in my country. So in that sense it’s been very, very useful.

“It seems that often when problems arise, our outlook becomes narrow. All of our attention may be focused on worrying about the problem, and we may have a sense that we’re the only one that is going through such difficulties. This can lead to a kind of self-absorption that can make the problem seem very intense. When this happens, I think that seeing things from a wider perspective can definitely help—realizing, for instance, that there are many other people who have gone through similar experiences, and even worse experiences. This practice of shifting perspective can even be helpful in certain illnesses or when in pain. At the time the pain arises it is of course often very difficult, at that moment, to do formal meditation practices to calm the mind. But if you can make comparisons, view your situation from a different perspective, somehow something happens. If you only look at that one event, then it appears bigger and bigger. If you focus too closely, too intensely, on a problem when it occurs, it appears uncontrollable. But if you compare that event with some other greater event, look at the same problem from a distance, then it appears smaller and less overwhelming.”

Shortly before one session with the Dalai Lama, I happened to run into an administrator of a facility where I used to work. During my tenure at his facility we had a number of run-ins because I believed that he was compromising patient care in favor of financial considerations. I hadn’t seen him in quite a while, but as soon as I spotted him, all of our arguments came flooding back and I could feel the anger and hatred welling up inside me. By the time I was ushered into the Dalai Lama’s hotel suite for our session later that day, I was considerably calmer, but still feeling a bit unsettled.

“Let’s say that someone makes you angry,” I began. “Your natural response to being hurt, your immediate response, is to get angry. But in a lot of cases, it’s not just a matter of getting angry at the time you’re being hurt. You might think about the event later, even much later, and every time you think about it you become angry all over again. How would you suggest dealing with that kind of situation?”

The Dalai Lama nodded thoughtfully, and looked at me. I wondered if he sensed that I wasn’t bringing up the topic for purely academic reasons.

“If you look from a different angle,” he said, “then surely the person who caused this anger in you will have a lot of other positive aspects, positive qualities. If you look carefully, you will also find that the act which has made you angry has also given you certain opportunities, something which otherwise would not have been possible, even from your point of view. So with effort you’ll be able to see many different angles to a single event. This will help.”

“But what about if you look for the positive angles of a person or event and can’t find any?”

“Here, I think, we would be dealing with a situation where you might need to make some effort. Spend some time seriously searching for a different perspective on the situation. Not just in a superficial way. But in a very pointed and direct way. You need to use all your powers of reasoning and look at the situation as objectively as possible. For instance, you might reflect on the fact that when you are really angry at someone you tend to perceive them as having 100 percent negative qualities. Just as when you are strongly attracted to someone the tendency is to see them as having 100 percent positive qualities. But this perception does not correspond with reality. If your friend, who you view as so wonderful, were to purposely harm you in some way, suddenly you would become acutely aware that they aren’t composed of 100 percent good qualities. Similarly, if your enemy, the one you hate, were to sincerely beg your forgiveness and continue to show you kindness, it’s unlikely that you would continue to perceive them as 100 percent bad. So, even though when you are angry at someone you might feel that the person has no positive qualities, the reality is that nobody is 100 percent bad. They must have some good qualities if you search hard enough. So, the tendency to see someone as completely negative is due to your own perception based on your own mental projection, rather than the true nature of that individual.

“In the same way, a situation that you initially perceive as 100 percent negative may have some positive aspects to it. But I think that even if you have discovered a positive angle to a bad situation, that alone is often not enough. You still need to reinforce that idea. So you may need to remind yourself of that positive angle many times, until gradually your feeling changes. Generally speaking, once you’re already in a difficult situation, it isn’t possible to change your attitude simply by adopting a particular thought once or twice. Rather it’s through a process of learning, training, and getting used to new viewpoints that enables you to deal with the difficulty.”

The Dalai Lama reflected for a moment, and, adhering to his usual pragmatic stance, he added, “If, however, in spite of your efforts, you do not find any such positive angles or perspectives to a person’s act, then for the time being the best course of action may be to simply try to forget about it.”

Inspired by the Dalai Lama’s words, later that evening I tried to discover some “positive angles” to the administrator, ways in which he was not “100 percent bad.” It wasn’t hard. I knew him to be a loving father, for instance, trying to raise his children the best he could. And I had to admit that my run-ins with him had ultimately benefited me—they had been instrumental in my decision to quit working at that facility, which ultimately led to more satisfying work. While these reflections didn’t immediately result in an overwhelming liking for this man, they unquestionably took the bite out of my feelings of hatred with surprisingly little effort. Soon, the Dalai Lama would offer an even more profound lesson: how to completely transform one’s attitude toward one’s enemies and learn to cherish them.

A NEW PERSPECTIVE ON THE ENEMY

The Dalai Lama’s primary method of transforming our attitude about our enemies involves a systematic and rational analysis of our customary response to those who harm us. He explained:

“Let’s begin by examining our characteristic attitude toward our rivals. Generally speaking, of course, we do not wish good things for our enemies. But even if your enemy is made unhappy through your actions, what is there for you to be so joyful about? If you think about it carefully, how can there be anything more wretched than that? Carrying around the burden of such feelings of hostility and ill will. And do you really want to be that mean?

“If we take revenge upon one’s enemy, then it creates a kind of vicious cycle. If you retaliate, the other person is not going to accept that—he or she is going to retaliate against you, and then you will do the same, so it will go on. And especially when this happens at the community level, it can go on from generation to generation. The result is that both sides suffer. Then, the whole purpose of life becomes spoiled. You can see this in the refugee camps, where hatred is cultivated towards another group. This happens from childhood on. It is very sad. So, anger or hatred is like a fisherman’s hook. It’s very important for us to ensure that we are not caught by this hook.

“Now, some people consider that strong hatred is good for national interest. I think this is very negative. It is very short-sighted. Counteracting this way of thinking is the basis of the spirit of nonviolence and understanding.”

Having challenged our characteristic attitude toward one’s enemy, the Dalai Lama went on to offer an alternative way of viewing one’s enemy, a new perspective that could have a revolutionary impact on one’s life. He explained:

“In Buddhism in general, a lot of attention is paid to our attitudes towards our rivals or enemies. This is because hatred can be the greatest stumbling block to the development of compassion and happiness. If you can learn to develop patience and tolerance towards your enemies, then everything else becomes much easier—your compassion towards all others begins to flow naturally.

“So, for a spiritual practitioner, one’s enemies play a crucial role. As I see it, compassion is the essence of a spiritual life. And in order for you to become fully successful in practicing love and compassion, the practice of patience and tolerance is indispensable. There is no fortitude similar to patience, just as there is no affliction worse than hatred. Therefore, one must exert one’s best efforts not to harbor hatred towards the enemy, but rather use the encounter as an opportunity to enhance one’s practice of patience and tolerance.

“In fact, the enemy is the necessary condition for practicing patience. Without an enemy’s action, there is no possibility for patience or tolerance to arise. Our friends do not ordinarily test us and provide the opportunity to cultivate patience_; only our enemies do this. So, from this standpoint we can consider our enemy as a great teacher, and revere them for giving us this precious opportunity to practice patience.

“Now there are many, many people in the world, but relatively few with whom we interact, and even fewer who cause us problems. So when you come across such a chance for practicing patience and tolerance, you should treat it with gratitude. It is rare. Just as having unexpectedly found a treasure in your own house, you should be happy and grateful towards your enemy for providing that precious opportunity. Because if you are ever to be successful in your practice of patience and tolerance, which are critical factors in counteracting negative emotions, it is due to the combination of your own efforts and also the opportunity provided by your enemy.

“Of course, one might still feel, ‘Why should I venerate my enemy, or acknowledge his or her contribution, because the enemy had no intention to give me this precious opportunity for practicing patience, no intention of helping me? And not only do they have no wish or intention to help me, but they have a deliberate malicious intention to harm me! Therefore, it’s appropriate to hate them—they are definitely not worthy of respect.’ Actually, it is in fact the presence of this hateful state of mind in the enemy, the intention to hurt us, that makes the enemy’s action unique. Otherwise, if it is just the actual act of hurting us, then we would hate doctors and consider them as enemies because sometimes they adopt methods that can be painful, such as surgery. But still, we do not consider these acts as harmful or the acts of an enemy because the intention on the part of the doctor was to help us. So, therefore, it is exactly this willful intention to harm us that makes the enemy unique and gives us this precious opportunity to practice patience.”

The Dalai Lama’s suggestion to venerate one’s enemies because of the opportunities for growth they provide might be a bit hard to swallow at first. But the situation is analogous to a person seeking to tone and strengthen one’s body through weight training. Of course, the activity of lifting is uncomfortable at first—the weights are heavy. One strains, sweats, struggles. Yet it is the very act of struggling against the resistance that ultimately results in our strength. One appreciates good weight equipment not for any immediate pleasure it provides, but for the ultimate benefit one receives.

Perhaps even the Dalai Lama’s claims about the “rarity” and “preciousness” of The Enemy are more than just fanciful ratio nalizations. As I listen to my patients describe their difficulties with others, this becomes quite clear—when it comes down to it, most people don’t have legions of enemies and antagonists they’re struggling with, at least on a personal level. Usually the conflict is just confined to a few people. A boss perhaps, or a coworker, an ex-spouse, a sibling. From that standpoint, The Enemy is truly “rare”—our supply is limited. And it’s the struggle, the process of resolving the conflict with The Enemy—through learning, examining, finding alternative ways of dealing with them—that ultimately results in true growth, insight, and a successful psychotherapeutic outcome.

Imagine what it would be like if we went through life never encountering an enemy or any other obstacles for that matter, if from the cradle to the grave everyone we met pampered us, held us, hand-fed us (soft bland food, easy to digest), amused us with funny faces and the occasional “goo-goo” noise. If from infancy we were carried around in a basket (later on, perhaps on a litter), never encountering any challenge, never tested—in short, if everyone continued to treat us like a baby. That might sound good at first. For the first few months of life it might be appropriate. But if it persisted it could only result in one becoming a sort of gelatinous mass, a monstrosity really—with the mental and emotional development of veal. It’s the very struggle of life that makes us who we are. And it is our enemies that test us, provide us with the resistance necessary for growth.

IS THIS ATTITUDE PRACTICAL?

The practice of approaching our problems rationally and learning to view our troubles or our enemies from alternative perspectives certainly seemed like a worthwhile pursuit, but I wondered to what degree this could really bring about a fundamental transformation of attitude. I remembered once reading in an interview that one of the Dalai Lama’s daily spiritual practices was the recitation of a prayer, The Eight Verses on the Training of the Mind, written in the eleventh century by the Tibetan saint, Langri Thangpa. It reads, in part:

Whenever I associate with someone, may I think myself the lowest among all and hold the other supreme in the depth of my heart! ...

When Isee beings of wicked nature, pressed by violent sin and affliction, may I hold these rare ones dear as if I had found a precious treasure! ...

When others, out of envy, treat me badly with abuse, slander and the like, may I suffer the defeat and offer the victory to others! ...

When the one, whom I have benefited with great hope, burts me very badly, may I behold him as my supreme Guru!

In short may I, directly and indirectly, offer benefit and happiness to all beings_; may I secretly take upon myself the barm and suffering of all beings! ...

After I read about this, I asked the Dalai Lama, “I know that you’ve contemplated this prayer a great deal, but do you really think it is applicable these days? I mean, it was written by a monk living in a monastery—a setting where the worst thing that might happen is someone gossiping about you or telling lies about you or perhaps the occasional punch or slap. In that case it might be easy to ‘offer the victory’ to them—but in today’s society the ’hurt’ or bad treatment one receives from others might include rape, torture, murder, etc. From that standpoint, the attitude in the prayer really doesn’t seem applicable.” I felt a bit smug, having made an observation that I thought was rather apt, the ol’ bon mot.

The Dalai Lama was silent for several moments, his brow furrowed deep in thought, then said, “There may be something in what you are saying.” He then went on to discuss instances where there may need to be some modification to that attitude, where one may need to take strong countermeasures to other’s aggression to prevent harm to oneself or others.

Later that evening I thought over our conversation. Two points vividly emerged. First, I was struck by his extraordinary readiness to take a fresh look at his own beliefs and practices—in this case, demonstrating a willingness to reevaluate a cherished prayer that had no doubt fused with his very being through years of repetition. The second point was less inspiring. I was overcome with a sense of my own arrogance! It occurred to me that I had suggested to him that the prayer might not be appropriate because it wasn’t in keeping with the harsh realities of today’s world. But it wasn’t until later that I reflected on who I had been speaking to—a man who had lost an entire country as a result of one of the most brutal invasions in history. A man who has lived in exile for almost four decades while an entire nation placed their hopes and dreams of freedom on him. A man with a deep sense of personal responsibility, who has listened with compassion to a continuous stream of refugees pouring out their stories of the murder, rape, torture, and degradation of the Tibetan people by the Chinese. More than once I’ve seen the look of infinite caring and sadness on his face as he listened to these accounts, often toldby people who crossed the Himalayas on foot (a two-year journey) just to catch a glimpse of him.

And these stories aren’t of physical violence only. Often they involved the attempt to destroy the spirit of the Tibetan people. A Tibetan refugee once told me about the Chinese “school” he was required to attend as a youngster growing up in Tibet. The mornings were devoted to indoctrination and study of Chairman Mao’s “little red book.” The afternoons were devoted to reporting on various homework assignments. The “homework” was generally devised to eradicate the deeply ingrained spirit of Buddhism among the Tibetan people. For example, knowing about the Buddhist prohibition against killing and the belief that every living creature is equally a precious “sentient being,” one schoolteacher assigned his students the task of killing something and bringing it to school the following day. The students were graded. Each dead animal was given a certain point value—a fly was worth one point, a worm—two, a mouse—five, a cat—ten, and so on. (When I recounted this story to a friend recently, he shook his head with a look of disgust, and mused, “I wonder how many points the student would get for killin’ the damn teacher?”)

Through his spiritual practices, such as recitation of The Eight Verses on the Training of the Mind, the Dalai Lama has been able to come to terms with the reality of this situation yet continue to campaign actively for freedom and human rights in Tibet for forty years. At the same time he has maintained an attitude of humility and compassion toward the Chinese, which has inspired millions worldwide. And here was I, suggesting that this prayer might not be relevant to the “realities” of today’s world. I still flush with embarrassment whenever I think of that conversation.

DISCOVERING NEW PERSPECTIVES

In trying to apply the Dalai Lama’s method of shifting perspective on “the enemy,” I happened to stumble upon another technique one afternoon. During the course of preparing for this book I attended some teachings by the Dalai Lama on the East Coast. On my return home I took a nonstop flight back to Phoenix. As usual, I had booked an aisle seat. Despite having just attended spiritual teachings, I was in a rather cranky mood as I boarded the packed plane. Then I discovered I had been mistakenly assigned a center seat—sandwiched between a man of generous proportions who had the annoying habit of draping his thick forearm over my side of the armrest and a middle-aged woman whom I took an immediate dislike to because, I decided, she had usurped my aisle seat. There was something about this woman that really bothered me—her voice a bit too shrill, her manner a bit too imperial, I’m not sure. Right after takeoff she began talking continuously to the man sitting directly in front of her. The man turned out to be her husband, and I “gallantly” offered to exchange seats with him. But they wouldn’t have it—they both wanted aisle seats. I grew more annoyed. The prospect of five solid hours seated next to this woman seemed unbearable.

Realizing that I was reacting so strongly to a woman whom I didn’t even know, I decided that it must be “transference”—she must subconsciously remind me of someone from my childhood—the ol’ unresolved-feelings-of-hate-toward-my-mother or something. I racked my brain but couldn’t come up with a likely candidate-she just didn’t remind me of anyone from my past.

It then occurred to me that this was the perfect opportunity to practice developing patience. So, I started in on the technique of visualizing my enemy in my aisle seat as a cherished benefactor, placed next to me to teach me patience and tolerance. I figured this should be a snap—after all, as “enemies” go you couldn’t get any milder than this—I had just met this woman, and she hadn’t actually done anything to harm me. After about twenty minutes, I gave it up—she still bugged me! I resigned myself to remaining irritable for the rest of the flight. Sulking, I glared at one of her hands that was furtively encroaching on my armrest. I hated everything about this woman. I was staring absently at her thumbnail when it occurred to me: Do I hate that thumbnail? Not really. It was just an ordinary thumbnail. Unremarkable. Next, I glanced at her eye and asked myself: Do I really hate that eye? Yes, I did. (Of course, for no good reason—which is the purest form of hate). I focused in closer. Do I hate that pupil? No. Do I hate that cornea, that iris, or that sclera? No. So, do I really hate that eye? I had to admit that I didn’t. I felt that I was on to something. I moved on to a knuckle, a finger, a jaw, an elbow. With some surprise I realized that there were parts of this woman that I didn’t hate. Focusing on details, on particulars, instead of overgeneralizations, allowed a subtle internal change, a softening. This shift of perspective tore an opening in my prejudice, just wide enough to look at her as simply another human being. As I was feeling this, she suddenly turned to me and started a conversation. I don’t remember what we talked about—it was small talk mostly—but by the end of the flight my anger and annoyance had been diffused. Granted, she wasn’t my New Best Friend but also she was no longer The Evil Usurper of My Aisle Seat—just another human being, like me, moving through life as best she could.

A SUPPLY MIND

The ability to shift perspective, the capacity to view one’s problems “from different angles,” is nurtured by a supple quality of mind. The ultimate benefit of a supple mind is that it allows us to embrace all of life—to be fully alive and human. Following a long day of public talks in Tucson one afternoon, the Dalai Lama walked back to his hotel suite. As he slowly walked back to his room, a bank of magenta rain clouds spanned the sky, absorbing the late afternoon light and sending the Catalina Mountains into deep relief, the entire landscape a vast palette of purple hues. The effect was spectacular. The warm air, laden with the fragrance of desert plants, of sage, a dampness, a restless breeze, holding the promise of an unbridled Sonoran storm. The Dalai Lama stopped. For several moments he quietly surveyed the horizon, taking in the entire panorama, finally commenting on the beauty of the setting. He walked on, but after a few steps he paused again, bending down to examine a tiny lavender bud on a small plant. He touched it gently, noting its delicate form, and wondered aloud about the name of the plant. I was struck by the facility with which his mind functioned. His awareness seemed to move so easily from taking in the complete landscape to focusing on a single bud, a simultaneous appreciation of the totality of the environment as well as the smallest detail. A capacity to encompass all facets and the full spectrum of life.

Every one of us can develop this same suppleness of mind. It comes about, at least in part, directly through our efforts to stretch our perspective and deliberately try on new viewpoints. The end result is a simultaneous awareness of the big picture as well as our individual circumstances. This dual outlook, a concurrent view of the “Big World” and our own “Little World,” can act as a kind of triage, helping us separate what is important in life from what isn’t.

In my own case, it took a bit of gentle prodding by the Dalai Lama, during the course of our conversations, before I began to break out of my own limited perspective. By nature and training, I’ve always tended to address problems from the standpoint of individual dynamics—psychological processes occurring purely within the domain of the mind. Sociological or political perspectives have never held much interest for me. In one discussion with the Dalai Lama I started questioning him about the importance of achieving a wider perspective. Having had several cups of coffee earlier, my conversation started to become quite animated and I began to speak about the ability to shift perspective as an internal process, a solitary pursuit, based solely on an individual’s conscious decision to adopt a different view.

In the midst of my spirited discourse, the Dalai Lama finally interrupted to remind me, “When you speak of adopting a wider perspective this includes working cooperatively with other people. When you have crises which are global by nature for instance, such as the environment or problems of modern economic structure, this calls for a coordinated and concerted effort among many people, with a sense of responsibility and commitment. This is more encompassing than an individual or personal issue.”

I was annoyed that he was dragging in the subject of the world while I was trying to concentrate on the subject of the individual (and this attitude, I’m embarrassed to admit, on the very topic of widening one’s viewpoint!).

“But this week,” I insisted, “in our conversations and in your public talks, you’ve spoken a lot about the importance of effecting personal change from within, through internal transformation. For instance, you’ve spoken about the importance of developing compassion, a warm heart, of overcoming anger and hatred, cultivating patience and tolerance ...”

“Yes. Of course, change must come from within the individual. But when you are seeking solutions to global problems, you need to be able to approach these problems from the standpoint of the individual as well as from the level of society at large. So, when you’re talking about being flexible, about having a wider perspective and so on, this requires the ability to address problems from various levels: the individual level, the community level, and the global level.

“Now, for instance, at the talk at the university the other evening, I spoke about the need to reduce anger and hatred through the cultivation of patience and tolerance. Minimizing hatred is like internal disarmament. But, as I also mentioned in that talk, that internal disarmament must go with external disarmament. That I think is very, very important. Fortunately, after the Soviet empire collapsed, at least for the time being, there is no more threat of nuclear holocaust. So, I think this is a very good time, a very good start—we should not miss this opportunity! Now I think we must strengthen the genuine force of peace. Real peace—not just mere absence of violence or absence of war. Mere absence of war can be produced by weapons—like the nuclear deterrent. But a mere absence of war is not genuine, lasting world peace. Peace must develop on mutual trust. And since weapons are the greatest obstacle for development of mutual trust, I think the time has now come to figure out how to get rid of these weapons. That is very important. Of course, we cannot achieve this overnight. I think the realistic way is step by step. But anyway, I think we must make our ultimate goal very clear: The whole world should be demilitarized. So, on one level we should be working toward developing inner peace, but at the same time it’s very important to work towards external disarmament and peace as well, making a small contribution in whatever way we can. That’s our responsibility.”

THE IMPORTANCE OF FLEXIBLE THINKING

There is a reciprocal relationship between a supple mind and the ability to shift perspective: A supple, flexible mind helps us address our problems from a variety of perspectives, and, conversely, deliberately trying to objectively examine our problems from a variety of perspectives can be seen as a kind of flexibility training for the mind. In today’s world, the attempt to develop a flexible mode of thinking isn’t simply a self-indulgent exercise for idle iritellectuals-it can be a matter of survival. Even on an evolutionary scale, the species that have been most flexible, most adaptable to environmental changes, have survived and thrived. Life today is characterized by sudden, unexpected, and sometimes violent change. A supple mind can help us reconcile the external changes going on all around us. It can also help us integrate all of our internal conflicts, inconsistencies, and ambivalence. Without cultivating a pliant mind, our outlook becomes brittle and our relationship to the world becomes characterized by fear. But by adopting a flexible, malleable approach to life, we can maintain our composure even in the most restless and turbulent conditions. It is through our efforts to achieve a flexible mind that we can nurture the resiliency of the human spirit.

As I got to know the Dalai Lama, I became amazed at the extent of his flexibility, his capacity to entertain a variety of viewpoints. One would expect that his unique role as probably the world’s most recognized Buddhist might put him in the position of being a sort of Defender of The Faith.

With this in mind, I asked him, “Do you ever find yourself being too rigid in your viewpoint, too narrow in your thinking?”

“Hmm ...” he pondered for a moment before replying decisively. “No, I don’t think so. In fact, it’s just the opposite. Sometimes I’m so flexible that I’m accused of having no consistent policy.” He broke into a robust laugh. “Someone will come to me and present a certain idea, and I’ll see the reason in what they’re saying and agree, telling them, Oh, that’s great!‘ ... But then the next person comes along with the opposite viewpoint, and I’ll see the reason in what they are saying as well and agree with them also. Sometimes I’m criticized for this and have to be reminded, ’We’re committed to this course of action, so for the time being let’s just keep to this side.‘ ”

From this statement alone one might get the impression that the Dalai Lama is indecisive, with no guiding principles. In fact, that couldn’t be further from the truth. The Dalai Lama clearly has a set of basic beliefs that act as a substrate for all his actions: A belief in the underlying goodness of all human beings. A belief in the value of compassion. A policy of kindness. A sense of his commonality with all living creatures.

In speaking of the importance of being flexible, malleable, and adaptable, I don’t mean to suggest that we become like chameleons—soaking up any new belief system that we happen to be around at the time, changing our identity, passively absorbing every idea that we’re exposed to. Higher stages of growth and development depend on an underlying set of values that can guide us. A value system that can provide continuity and coherence to our lives, by which we can measure our experiences. A value system that can help us decide which goals are truly worthwhile and which pursuits are meaningless.

The question is, how can we consistently and steadfastly maintain this set of underlying values and yet remain flexible? The Dalai Lama has seemed to achieve this by first reducing his belief system to a few fundamental facts: 1) I am a human being. 2) I want to be happy and I don’t want to suffer. 3) Other human beings, like myself, also want to be happy and don’t want to suffer. Emphasizing the common ground he shares with others, rather than the differences, results in a feeling of connection with all human beings and leads to his basic belief in the value of compassion and altruism. Using the same approach, it can be tremendously rewarding simply to take some time to reflect on our own value system and reduce it to its fundamental principles. It is the ability to reduce our value system to its most basic elements, and live from that vantage point, that allows us the greatest freedom and flexibility to deal with the vast array of problems that confront us on a daily basis.

FINDING BALANCE

Developing a flexible approach to living is not only instrumental in helping us cope with everyday problems—it also becomes the cornerstone for a key element of a happy life: balance.

Settling comfortably into his chair one morning, the Dalai Lama explained the value of leading a balanced life.

“A balanced and skillful approach to life, taking care to avoid extremes, becomes a very important factor in conducting one’s everyday existence. It is important in all aspects of life. For instance, in planting a sapling of a plant or a tree, at its very early stage you have to be very skillful and gentle. Too much moisture will destroy it, too much sunlight will destroy it. Too little will also destroy it. So what you need is a very balanced environment where the sapling can have a healthy growth. Or, for a person’s physical health, too much or too little of any one thing can have destructive effects. For example, too much protein I think is bad, and too little is bad.

“This gentle and skillful approach, taking care to avoid extremes, applies to healthy mental and emotional growth as well. For instance, if we find ourselves becoming arrogant, being puffed up by self-importance based on one’s supposed or actual achievements or qualities, then the antidote is to think more about one’s own problems and suffering, contemplating the unsatisfactory aspects of existence. This will assist you in bringing down the level of your heightened state of mind, bringing you more down to earth. And on the contrary, if you find that reflecting on the unsatisfactory nature of existence, suffering and pain and so forth, makes you feel quite overwhelmed by the whole thing, then, again, there’s a danger of going to the other extreme. In that case you might become totally discouraged, helpless, and depressed, thinking that‘Oh, I can’t do anything, I’m worthless.’ So under such circumstances, it’s important to be able to uplift your mind by reflecting on your achievements, the progress that you have made so far, and your other positive qualities so that you can uplift your mind and get out of that discouraged or demoralized state of mind. So what is required here is a kind of very balanced and skillful approach.

“Not only is this approach helpful for one’s physical and emotional health, but it applies to one’s spiritual growth as well. Now, for instance, the Buddhist tradition includes many different techniques and practices. But it is very important to be very skillful in one’s application of the various techniques, and not to be too extreme. One needs a balanced and skillful approach here too. When undertaking Buddhist practice it is important to have a coordinated approach, combining studying and learning with the practices of contemplation and meditation. This is important so that there won’t be any imbalances between academic or intellectual learning and practical implementation. Otherwise, there is a danger that too much intellectualization will kill the more contemplative practices. But then, too much emphasis on practical implementation without study will kill the understanding. So there has got to be a balance....”

After a moment’s reflection, he added, “So, in other words, the practice of Dbarma, real spiritual practice, is in some sense like a voltage stabilizer. The function of the stabilizer is to prevent irregular power surges and instead give you a stable and constant source of power.”

“You stress the importance of avoiding extremes,” I inserted, “but isn’t going to extremes what provides the excitement and zest in life? By avoiding all extremes in life, always choosing the ‘middle way,’ doesn’t that just lead to a bland, colorless existence?”

Shakinghis head no, he answered, “I think you need to understand the source or basis of extreme behavior. Take for example the pursuit of material goods—shelter, furniture, clothing, and so on. On one hand, poverty can be seen as a sort of extreme and we have every right to strive to overcome this and assure our physical comfort. On the other hand, too much luxury, pursuing excessive wealth is another extreme. Our ultimate aim in seeking more wealth is a sense of satisfaction, of happiness. But the very basis of seeking more is a feeling of not having enough, a feeling of discontentment. That feeling of discontentment, of wanting more and more and more, doesn’t arise from the inherent desirability of the objects we are seeking but rather from our own mental state.

“So I think that our tendency to go to extremes is often fueled by an underlying feeling of discontentment. And of course there may be other factors which lead to extremes. But I think it is important to recognize that while going to extremes may seem appealing or ‘exciting’ on the surface, it can in fact be harmful. There are many examples of the dangers of going to extremes, of extreme behavior. I think that by examining these situations you’il be able to see that the consequence of going to extremes is that you, yourself, will eventually suffer. For example, on a planetary scale if we engage in excessive fishing, without proper regard for long-term consequences, without a sense of responsibility, then it results in depletion of the fish population... Or sexual behavior. Of course there is the biological sexual drive for reproduction and so on, and the satisfaction one gets from sexual activity. But if sexual behavior becomes extreme, without proper responsibility, it leads to so many problems, abuses ... like sexual abuse and incest.”

“You mentioned that in addition to a feeling of discontentment, there may be other factors that lead to extremes....”

“Yes, certainly.” He nodded.

“Can you give an example?”

“I think narrow-mindedness could be another factor that leads to extremes.”

“Narrow-mindedness in the sense of...?”

“The example of excessive fishing leading to depletion of the fish population would be an instance of narrow thinking, in the sense that one is looking only at the short term, and ignoring the wider picture. Here, one could use education and knowledge to widen one’s perspective and become less narrow in one’s viewpoint.”

The Dalai Lama picked up his rosary from a side table, rubbing it between his hands as he silently mulled over the issue under discussion. Glancing at his rosary, he suddenly continued, “I think in many ways narrow-minded attitudes lead to extreme thinking. And this creates problems. For instance, Tibet was a Buddhist nation for many centuries. Naturally that resulted in Tibetans feeling that Buddhism was the best religion, and a tendency to feel that it would be a good thing if all of humanity became Buddhist. The idea that everyone should be Buddhist is quite extreme. And that kind of extreme thinking just causes problems. But now that we’ve left Tibet, we’ve had a chance to come into contact with other religious traditions and learn about them. This has resulted in coming closer to reality—real—izing that among humanity there are so many different mental dispositions. Even if we tried to make the whole world Buddhist it would be impractical. Through closer contact with other traditions you realize the positive things about them. Now, when confronted with another religion, initially a positive feeling, a comfortable feeling, will arise. We’ll feel if that person finds a different tradition more suitable, more effective, then that’s good! Then it’s like going to a restaurant-we can all sit down at one table and order different dishes according to one’s own taste. We might eat different dishes, but nobody argues about it!

“So, I think that by deliberately broadening our outlook we can often overcome the kind of extreme thinking that leads to such negative consequences.”

With this thought, the Dalai Lama slipped his rosary around his wrist, patted my hand amiably, and rose to end the discussion.