A Buddhist monk once said: “He who clings to the void and neglects compassion does not reach the highest stage. But he who practices only compassion does not gain release from the toils of existence. He however who is strong in the practice of both, remains neither in samsara nor in nirvana.”
Over time I have come to appreciate the relationship between emptiness and compassion. Lines in the mystic literature, such as “Out of emptiness arises compassion,” suggest this link. Here the void means the silence that exists within sound, the deepest spiritual roots of life itself. Compassion refers to the arising in the heart of the desire to relieve the suffering of all beings. At its most evolved form, compassionate action does not arise solely out of personal desire. Rather, in bodhisattvalike fashion, it arises from a desire created by the collective suffering of all beings.
In the first part of this book, I’d like to share with you, in a very personal way, what I have learned about compassion. I realize, of course, that each of us has our own particular lessons to learn and that there are many different ways of learning them. But while the specifics of our journeys may not be of much use to other people, I have found that when we share them honestly with one another, they can strengthen our faith.
There are two questions I am informally addressing here. First, what are the roots of my own caring action? The other question I have reflected about is what we can actually do for one another. What have we to offer one another to alleviate suffering?
Regarding the first question, the way in which I serve others has changed over time. At first there was self-consciousness, long-suffering, righteous indignation, power preoccupation, pride, burnout, and the like. While my actions might have looked compassionate or caring to others, the inside story was quite another matter. But, over time, some of the ego’s reasons, fears, and complaints about serving have lost much of their power. Now I can see the possibility that appropriate serving to relieve the suffering of other beings could become simply what I do. Like breathing. It’s nothing special.
The second question was, What have we to offer one another to alleviate suffering? It’s obvious that a hungry belly we can fill with food, a frightened child we can comfort, a person blind with cataract we can help to see again, a homeless person we can assist in finding affordable housing, and a destitute farmer we can provide with seeds, tools, and water for growing food. We can bear witness to governments’ acts of inhumanity toward their citizens and speak out, and we can console the sick and lonely, the dying, and the grieving.
But there is more that we can do even as we are performing these caring acts. We can honor the profound ancient wisdom that reminds us that one of the roots of suffering lies deep within our own minds. By remembering that and learning to work with these root causes within ourselves, even as we attempt to help others, we find that our own inner work becomes part of our offering to others.
The late Kalu Rinpoche, an extraordinary Tibetan Buddhist lama, once said to me: “You have only three things to do in this lifetime. Honor your guru. Deepen your emptiness. Deepen your compassion.” That simple prescription embraces so much of what my life has become. Spiritual practice has not only kept alive my relationship to my guru, Neem Karoli Baba, who is my inner guide, but has also allowed me to taste the emptiness that lies behind all form. And my life in the world has taught me about compassion.
Here, then, is the story of one person’s continuing attempt to integrate spirit into service.