If you were past the quarter-life mark of life, how would you measure yourself?
Would it be how much peers earn? Or how shiok their Instagram stories depict their lives to be?
Annabel probably ‘measures’ herself differently, or maybe not at all.
When you speak to Annabel, you won’t guess that this soft-spoken lady is running “The Heart Matters“, a Ground-Up Movement (GUM) to help the homeless and less privileged.
Setting it up in the middle of the pandemic & lockdown.
“Find a vocation, not a job”
“Find a vocation, not a job”, Annabel shared, when asked about her motivations.
Find a cause that resonates with you and do it well. Annabel mentioned that while having a job is great, finding a vocation beyond work can lift our hearts. Maybe that is a panacea to Singapore’s most unhappy workforce award.
At 25, Annabel has many ventures under her belt. She started a salad bar, partnered with social organisations (Rainbow Centre), became a Financial Planner, started a Yong Tau Foo coffee shop store, and kicked off different charity initiatives.
Each of these ‘jobs’ taught her different lessons in her budding career. I learnt from her experiences that life is less linear and more fulfilling if we are open to changes that lie ahead of us.
In addition, it is okay to call it a day when the journey is done, which she did for her different career endeavours. For example, she closed her salad bar social enterprise after 2 years.
Currently, Annabel is taking a gap period between her last career venture and the next career step.
How did she get started on this vocation journey especially when others are busy chionging (Singlish for rushing) for promotions and new jobs?
“You want the long or short story ah?” She casually asks.
I enthusiastically opted for the latter.
Bingo games
Annabel started her social work journey at 10 years old. She was attending Dhamma classes at Buddhist Fellowshipand started following a Buddhist Senior to The Singapore Cheshire Home (home for the seriously disabled).
From organising & playing Bingo games to helping the residents with their food, Annabel grew a strong connection to the home. Fifteen years have passed since and she still regularly volunteers there.
“Why?” I quizzed.
“施比受更有福 (To give is more joyous than to receive). As much as we think they are beneficiaries we are giving to…we are the beneficiaries of giving as well. We receive lessons & joy” she replied with a smile.
Annabel during one of the regular meal distributions at Singapore Cheshire Home
Circuit Break and Career Break
When Circuit Breaker (Singapore’s Lockdown) came, springing into action was second nature for Annabel. While at her previous job, she saw appeals for food from a nearby care centre.
She was both actively fulfilling the requests and coping with her day job. It was a struggle to juggle both, she shared.
With businesses shutdown and social organisations locking down, some elderly saw their livelihoods and social support evaporate – their situation was dire. The problem became compounded when she heard that other social organisations were struggling with logistics & manpower restrictions.
People who couldn’t be reached and were unable to buy their food were in trouble – they were starving. Seeing the plight of her fellow residents spiralling downwards, she took a pivotal career decision.
She decided to quit her job.
Care packs given to underprivileged families during Circuit Breaker
This would enable her to provide greater support to charity organisations & rough sleepers. Her selfless nature gave her the strength to put her career on temporary hold. To place the needs of others at the forefront when times are hard was inspiring to me.
We often cheer friends on with promotions and career achievements, especially those at Annabel’s age. Instead, Annabel is a contrarian in this and many aspects.
Circuit Breaker was a period of great uncertainty and fear for organisations and volunteers. Organisations were uncertain if they could still operate under the rules and also if their funding would tie them over this economic hardship. Volunteers were uncertain on how the virus would impact the beneficiaries (who tend to be vulnerable) and themselves.
However, Annabel placed her fears aside and navigated the unknown by arranging logistics delivery for the rough sleepers and other social organisations.
“Things popped up and we adapted to it. Good, bad, who knows? If things went according to plan, would I be where I am today?” Annabel replied when asked about navigating uncertainty.
She didn’t need to have all the answers to start moving, she just moved when there was a call for help.
This was how The Heart Matters (THM) was born.
A hidden growing problem
THM became a daily hotline for appeals from both organisations (e.g. Children’s home) and underprivileged families. As THM’s founder, Annabel is always ‘on call’. If needed, she is on the frontlines 7 days a week.
On a typical week, Annabel works day and night. Annabel organises the delivery of supplies and gifts to Non-Profit organisations & families during the day. At night, she conducts ‘night walks’ to spot and engage with rough sleepers.
Rough sleepers seem like a rare occurrence in Singapore due to a lack of awareness. In fact, it is a growing issue.
A 2019 NUS report found that rough sleepers in Singapore numbered ~1,050. Meanwhile, the government reported that calls for home shelter during the pandemic increased – these are startling numbers and the statistics may not cover all rough sleepers.
Annabel is determined to support rough sleepers despite the growing demand for shelter. Whenever possible, she tries to give them a semblance of home.
With 1 in 4 rough sleepers eating one meal or less daily, Annabel’s work is a great boon to these individuals going through a hard time.
“你来了 (You are here) ”
“你来了 (you are here)” is the start of one of the many stories that keep her going through the pandemic.
A rough sleeping uncle, who has severe memory loss, does not remember much of their interactions but greets Annabel with a wide smile and a ’你来了‘ whenever she brings him food. He repeatedly expresses his gratitude towards individuals with good hearts. Such smiles can warm the most chilly of nights.
Another rough-sleeping uncle’s concern for resources was also evident when Annabel packed him extra food & chilli on some nights.
Annabel interacting with a rough sleeper on her night walkabouts
“No need for 好料 (good food), one veg and one egg can already” Annabel recalled his comments.
It’s remarkable how individuals with so little give so much thought to others. No wonder Annabel said that while we may give materially, we receive spiritually.
“It is not how much you give”
As a former Buddhist youth leader, THM brings many Dhamma lessons to Annabel.
Intention matters
“When we give, we do not expect something in return. In the field of social work, some people put themselves out there for their name and fame. While some are doing it for others. Hard and heart work are needed to truly help others”, she shared.
“It is not how much you give, but your intention that matters.” Annabel recalls her colourful interactions with organisations and volunteers.
She challenged her volunteers to think deeper if they are doing it for the clout or the beneficiary. It truly can make or break a ground-up movement. Once ego and optics come into play, a GUM can be pulled into many directions, away from the direction of the beneficiaries.
Changes are inevitable
Recognising impermanence in her day to day operations is another Dhamma lesson she has glimpsed as a founder. The Buddha’s universal truth of change that we all cannot run away from is a strong feature in Annabel’s work.
“There are days that we have plans to give food to 10 people, but wet weather can make the rough sleepers move away. It can be disheartening to not find them. But I recognise that conditions were not right and that not everything goes our way”, she reflected.
A beneficiary receiving a care pack
Not finding them also means that the rough sleepers may go through another day without food – hard truths that Annabel has to accept in ever-shifting changes on the frontline.
However, being more accepting of change enables her to move past disappointment quickly and adjust to shifting conditions.
Saying No.
In addition, she emphasises that compassion has to be paired with wisdom in her line of work. At times, the beneficiary organisation would reach out with uncompromising requests from THM.
When organisations are unwilling to negotiate for a smaller gift (due to THM’s limited resources), Annabel has to apply wisdom and say ‘no’.
Saying no is difficult but necessary in ensuring that THM resources remain available to many other beneficiaries. These are moments where she balances compassion and wisdom; both necessities in walking the path of Dhamma.
The next chapter?
What’s next for Annabel and THM? She shrugs and declines to give a concrete plan/path ahead.
Having already walked an unconventional path of embarking on many initiatives, I guess that she is wise to not answer with certainty. As the sea of life always changes, we merely adjust our sail to brave the journey.
She is actively looking at options in her career and reflecting on what to do next. What I do know is that she is very joyful and fulfilled in what she is currently doing.
So how does Annabel ‘measure’ herself against others?
That is probably an irrelevant question for someone who sees little separation between herself and others. Rather, Annabel sees herself in others. When it comes to the wisdom of the heart, we can see the interdependence we have on one another.
TLDR: Learning to be okay with not feeling okay can help us recover better when an unexpected illness happens
It was during a meal that Celeste, in her 20s, began to feel some slight discomfort. Her throat was dry and her nose was runny after having Tom Yum soup.
At 4 am, Celeste confirmed that her discomfort was not from the Tom Yum but something worse.
Her test result showed she was positive for Covid-19. It was something that she never expected to contract as she had taken many precautions.
Fever and body ache struck her quickly. This shocked her as she assumed that after being fully vaccinated, and keeping a healthy lifestyle, it will pass like a breeze.
That was far from the truth as she entered Day 2 of home recovery.
Rotten food & rotten plans
Snapshot of the food that had no taste due to Covid
Celeste felt that being a swim coach, playing tennis & yoga, coupled with healthy eating would provide a strong trampoline for recovery on Day 2. Covid had other plans installed for her. It was not going away.
“I lost my sense of smell. Everything tasted like rotten food”, she recalled.
Fear arose when she Googled and found that some people stopped eating even after recovery as their sense of smell never recovered fully. They had lost interest in eating as it was no longer enjoyable.
The fear then morphed into self-blame for falling sick.
“I didn’t realise it was unkind until the anger and fear clouded my mind. It made me afraid of Dukkha (Suffering)”, she recalled.
Her meditation practise helped make her aware of the unnecessary self-criticism and blame she was laying on herself. However, the fear and anger grew in her mind.
Soothing Fear with Dhamma
As the fear paralysed Celeste, she decided to use piano music to calm herself as she lay in bed. However, the mental proliferations filled with fear did not go away.
She then recalled a playlist of talks recommended by her Dhamma friends from her young working adult Dhamma group (DAYWA). Being new to Buddhism, she was unfamiliar with whether it would help but decided to give the playlist a try.
“Be okay that you are not feeling okay”, Ajahn Brahm, the monk on the playlist, advised. This struck her hard.
She was always trying too hard to be healthy. Covid was something beyond her control. Despite being fully vaccinated, she still fell deeply sick. Acknowledging that it is okay to fall sick was a great relief to her heart and mind.
“90% of my worries never came through. I spent so much time worrying about things that never happen”, recalled Celeste as she was recovering.
After the one hour Dhamma talk, Celeste felt at ease and fell into a deep sleep.
Returning to senses
Celeste, having heard numerous mind-soothing episodes of Dhamma talks, was ready to accept a life of no smell. She reflected that she had taken her 5 senses for granted and realised that they did not belong to ‘us’ strictly as we could not command them as we like.
“We don’t own these senses, senses are merely borrowed. Not Mine, not myself.” she reflected.
Celeste was internalising and seeing first-hand what Buddha talked about non-self. We do not control our body and mind as much we would love to. For if our body was fully ours, it wouldn’t lead to dissatisfaction and we would have full control.
This brought to mind Buddha’s teaching to monks in the following dialogue:
What do you think, monks? Is form (body) permanent or impermanent?”
“Impermanent, sir.”
“But if it’s impermanent, is it suffering or happiness?”
“Suffering, sir.”
“But if it’s impermanent, suffering, and perishable, is it fit to be regarded thus: ‘This is mine, I am this, this is my self’?”
“No, sir.”
As Celeste was coming to peace with her lack of smell senses, it came back to her. She was beginning on her upward path to recovery.
Associating with the kind
As she slowly recovered, she found that body aches and pain remained. However, she avoided the trap of feeling unhappy with her body.
“Wanting things to be perfect feed the monster within you. Pain reminds you that your body is not perfect…and that’s okay”, Celeste shared.
Beyond the Dhamma talks, her loved ones were pivotal in lifting her towards full recovery.
Her in-laws delivered her favourite vegetables that she loved to eat even when the Delta variant was a real threat to their health. Her yoga friends delivered herbal tea and cooked for her.
This difficult period also made her appreciate her husband more (who was also infected and had to be hospitalised). Life and death became very real for her when her husband heart rate dropped drastically which landed him in the hospital as she lay at home infected with Covid.
“These moments made me count my blessings and not take them (loved ones) for granted”, Celeste recalled.
Life lessons from covid
This episode made Celeste rethink the way she was living her life. She decided to cut down on some overindulgence she was partaking in, such as midnight movies and sleeping late. Maintaining health was a crucial component of her life that she wanted to strengthen.
She then aspired to dedicate more time and consistency to her meditation practice which tide her over this tough period. She found herself meditating less when times were going good for her and hence, aspires to build a consistent habit of meditating regardless of the times.
“Be patient and be unafraid” she advised those who may face such an unexpected infection.
“For your friends infected with Covid, ask them how you can help them. Delivering food and checking in on them really lifts their spirits”, she encouraged.
In our darkest and lowest times, recollecting the Dhamma is one way to rest our minds at peace. This allows our body and mind to be okay at being not okay, paving the way for deeper healing.
Wise Steps:
Create a playlist of your favourite Dhamma talks that you can listen to in times of trouble
Every hardship we face is an opportunity for us to turn towards the truths of life or remain in our perceived truths of life
TLDR: Is Metta Meditation really beneficial? Jin Young shares his own personal practice and his relationship with loving kindness meditation. A 30-min guided meditation is included. You’re invited to test it out for yourself.
When you don’t know what to do, try out metta or loving kindness meditation.
Encountering Metta MeditationMy first encounter with metta was listening to Imee Ooi’s “Chant of Metta ”. Imee’s voice was angel-like, saccharine and soothing. I especially enjoyed her chanting of the Metta Sutta in Pali language, albeit not knowing much about the actual meaning behind those words back then.
My mom would sometimes play the CD around bedtime, and I guess it must have had some sort of sleep-inducing effect, much like lullabies for babies.
Lighting My Fire Of Metta
When I was fifteen, I sat through my first metta meditation under the guidance of Ajahn Brahm. Ajahn explained that the cultivation of metta is analogous to starting a fire. You can’t start a fire by lighting up a huge log.
Rather, you need kindling, easily combustible materials for starting a fire such as papers or small little twigs. Once the fire is started, one then adds on larger and larger twigs before moving on to solid pieces of wood.
When the fire is well maintained, you can further grow it until the passion of loving kindness is strong enough to embrace the whole universe and even your worst enemies.
But first, we need to start with kindling. Ajahn told us to visualize someone whom we can readily feel and send loving kindness to. For me, it was my late grandmother who had taken care of me when I was young. She showered me with unconditional love.
“Dear Ahma”
“The door of my heart is open to you”
“I will take care of you”
“May you be safe, well and happy”.
With these words, I felt my chest and heart glowing with love and warmth. We then proceed to send similar thoughts and wishes to our other family members, friends, acquaintances, animals, and all sentient beings.
It was an empowering experience to meditate on metta with Ajahn Brahm. The flame of “metta” was passed on from Ajahn to us, and from us to our loved ones and on and on.
Keeping the Metta Flame Glowing
Since then, I’ve tried my best to keep this flame alive wherever I go. In Selangor, I joined the Buddhist Gem Fellowship and attended a weekly guided metta meditation by Datuk Seri Dr. Victor Wee, another lay-teacher and compassionate mentor.
Dr. Wee’s cues were slightly different from Ajahn Brahm’s, but the spirit of loving kindness was the same.
I brought the practice of metta meditation with me to Japan and China, where I studied abroad for four years. Whenever I missed my family, encountered negative events, or felt like I was stuck in an uncertain and helpless situation, I turned to metta meditation for help.
I like to believe that by sending my thoughts of loving-kindness to my family and friends, they are protected by my wishes, and become well and happy.
By sending metta to a professor or a superior, he or she would give me an A+ or a pay raise (I’m only half-kidding). By sending it to someone with whom I’ve had a negative encounter, relationships will slowly turn for the better, enmity and ill will shall be transformed into love and light.
No, Metta doesn’t Solve Everything
Of course, there’s no guarantee that metta will always convert “negativity” into “positivity”, nor is it a panacea for everything in life.
However, I believe that it can help transform the state of one’s mind – To face life’s suffering and problems with a heart of loving-kindness and gentleness.
Over time, as I became a yoga teacher and started leading mindfulness retreat expeditions to the Himalayas, I’ve developed and come up with my practice and cues for leading metta meditation.
These cues are of course consolidated from the various teachers mentioned above. During this pandemic lockdown, I decided to record a 30-min long guided metta meditation. I share it with anyone keen to explore and integrate this practice into their lives.
“Watch your thoughts, they become your words; watch your words, they become your actions; watch your actions, they become your habits; watch your habits, they become your character; watch your character, it becomes your destiny.” This quote is often attributed to Laotzu.
Can we make metta “loving-kindness” the character and destiny of our life?
Wise Steps:
If you find it hard to send loving thoughts in your mind, find a safe space and utter them out in words.
Make it a habit to randomly wish someone to be well and happy each day, whether it’s mentally towards someone you love or to random strangers on the streets.
Meditate at least once a week to reset yourself energetically and spiritually.
TLDR: Why quit your job during a pandemic? How do we help our friends who are thinking about quitting?
When the pandemic plunged the world into recession, university graduates felt nervous. The fear of not finding a job or having your job offer rescinded was real.
Hence, to land a job and then quit your stable, full-time job during a pandemic makes you pause and say “Huh, why?”. Yanda has a different take. He asks ‘Why not?’.
Sipping coffee as Yanda shares his story
The Job Hunt Hype
Yanda, a final year student in 2020, took his time to enjoy university while it lasted. He mentioned that “everyone was rushing to secure a job. There was great hype for job hunting.”
It was definitely not an easy climate to be in. Rather than worrying about uncertainty, Yanda volunteered for Buddhist Organisations such as NTU Buddhist Society/ BYN (Buddhist Youth Network). He then took on the job search in his own time.
(No. Yanda doesn’t come from an uber-rich family where a job falls on his lap. He didn’t see the need for an all-or-nothing chase.)
Eventually, Yanda obtained a few offers in the engineering space and took on a role he thought he might enjoy. That is where things changed.
Is This It?
Work soon became monotonous and a routine for him. He noticed a routine of “working, going out for lunch, sitting back down and going home.”
This made him wonder, “Is this it? Is this how I am going to spend my life? What do I want? If I lived to 60 years, will I be content with doing 40 years of the same thing?”
In response to his musing, I mumbled: “Definitely not me.”
His attempt at sharing work struggles with some friends did not yield something he could relate to. They alluded to “finding meaning in your job rather than have the meaning come to you.” It was cold comfort.
I could see his thought process unfold and why that advice didn’t sit well. Yes, there was this sense of job security during a pandemic but it brought little meaning to him. That meaning was nearly impossible to find.
The turning point came when this question popped to mind, “If tomorrow, I am going to die, I would only remember that I did paperwork here and there. That’s it”. That spurred him into action. He tendered his resignation and left the company to the shock of his peers. New hires are usually expected to stay in that job for at least 2 years, but he stayed in that role for less than 6 months.
The Pains Of Change
“I had fear and felt scared”, he gulped when recalling the moment he quit and had no job offer on the horizon.
“So what helped you through the uncertainty?” I quizzed.
The fellowship of his Buddhist circle who listened patiently was what brought him to a brighter state of mind. Friends that were slow to advise but quick to listen to his pain helped him greatly. “That is what matters…being there for me,” he concluded.
“Confidence in the Buddha’s teaching, knowing that all these negative emotions would fade,” he added, gave him strength when he was alone. He viewed the transition as “uncertainty at its very core.”
Over the years, having done mindfulness practice enabled him to watch his emotions and to make necessary changes without attachment. That gave him the conviction that it was not an impulsive move but an informed one.
Starting Again
Smiling as he recalled his Buddhist work, “I have done a lot of Buddhist work that brought joy to me. If this (engineering) job doesn’t fit me, what can I do?”
As causes and conditions came together, Yanda didn’t need to wait long for an answer.
“A friend told me that she had an opening at a preschool where they wanted a Dhamma friend to help build the school’s curriculum.” He recalled. He mulled on the idea of facing kids all day and decided to take the plunge.
Yanda is now studying for a Diploma in Early Childhood Education while working to help build the preschool’s curriculum.
“Uncertainty,” he answers immediately when asked what he loves about his job. “What the children can bring to you every day with every interaction presents uncertainty,” he added.
When he dived deeper, he felt lifted about being able to help kids appreciate this ‘thing’ called the mind. Letting them know that there are ways to develop their minds. Equipping them with Buddhist concepts, techniques and emotional awareness to thrive in a stressful world really motivated him.
“Kids are easy to teach, as they are free of concepts,” he quipped. At that moment, I recalled being an inquisitive child, something I felt I have lost along the way. It was interesting to see how uncertainty could bring us pain (job transition) and joy (teaching kids).
Helping Others Start Again
I was curious to hear Yanda’s take on how we can help our friends’ transition from one job to another.
“There is no one-size-fits-all solution, but what I can say is that this is something cliché,” Yanda shared.
“Listen to them and be genuinely happy for them. Recognise that they took a courageous decision to step out of something that did not fit them,” he added.
On a practical side, Yanda shared that we should remind our friends to also financially plan ahead if they choose to resign without a job offer. As a rule of thumb, one should have at least 3-6 months of expenses saved in cash to weather them through their job search.
His advice was grounded heavily on the Buddhist idea of appreciative joy which is a joy in the achievements/victories of others.
“How can I support you? Do you need resources/contacts?” has been one of the most helpful questions friends asked. I instantly agreed by nodding furiously as I felt that we often are quick to develop solutions without considering our friends’ needs.
Turning Back Time
“Your first job is super important” is one piece of advice that Yanda recommends ignoring for graduating students. It adds unnecessary stress to the individual. That person may then seek out the perfect job which may not exist.
Having wisdom is crucial in helping us see the world properly. If he could turn back time to advise his graduating self, he would say this: “Have an attitude in life that let the results take care of themselves once I try my best. If it doesn’t go my way, what can I do next?” and “We are our own boss, only we can understand our emotions and the true nature of our mind.”
Asking that question gives us the courage to be open to what life can bring. What we can do is to create conditions for success while developing a sense of non-attachment to the outcome.
“Understand we have a mind, and emotions are never truly ours. Just like a cup. The reason why we wash it is that we are confident that the dirt can be washed off. The dirt was never the cup.” he summarised.
It was a mind-blowing summary of expectations and emotions. Recognising emotions as transitory and being at ease with the unpleasant is a skill set we all need as we go through the different changing phases of life.
Yanda showed that Singapore youths are hungry for life and meaning. We need not stay in the same job just to clock a magical number of years before leaving. Asking ourselves “Is this it?” can spark conversations and paths we never dreamt of.
Yanda is currently working in Blue Lion Preschool as an early childhood educator trainee.
TLDR: ‘Right’ Effort is not always obvious. Walking the Middle Way applies – especially to our actions during the current pandemic. While it’s important to adhere to guidelines, it’s important to practice self-compassion.
In the Ambalatthika-rahulovada Sutta, the Buddha advised his son that if an action is viewed to bring harm of any sort, then it should not be done.
“If, on reflection, you know that it would lead to self-affliction, to the affliction of others, or to both; it would be an unskillful bodily action with painful consequences, painful results, then any bodily action of that sort is absolutely unfit for you to do…”
The global pandemic is a situation where one person’s actions could harm themselves, others, or both. So it seems that the wise thing to do would be to stay home as much as possible.
Extreme #1: Going out 238423 times a week
Some people may outright ignore this advice. They may even be in denial, downplaying the dangers of the virus and thinking “aiya, I won’t get it one la”, or “I probably already got it and am immune to it already”.
When looking at the mind, it seems that the desire to go out unnecessarily comes from restlessness. Because we usually find it hard to sit with unpleasant feelings like boredom and depression, we search for distractions.
As Ajahn Jayasaro recently said, one of the most severe forms of punishment in our society is solitary confinement – putting someone in a room with nothing to stimulate the senses. The lockdowns and restrictions we are facing globally are similar but on a grander scale.
As people generally have not trained themselves to find a reliable form of happiness from within, this condition seems unbearable. So it’s understandable why people would find it challenging to adhere to guidelines.
These conditions are tough, and something we can empathise with and have compassion for.
Extreme #2: Hermit mode
Some people (*raises hand slowly*), however, veer towards the other extreme. At the beginning of the pandemic, I made it a point not to go out except when necessary – even if government restrictions allowed it. I turned into a full-fledged hermit.
When considering whether to go out, I would ask myself, “Am I doing this out of necessity or just for pleasure?” Knowing that my actions could put lives at stake, then if this came from a desire to indulge in sense pleasures, I wouldn’t really act on it.
I would miss important family gatherings like the Winter Solstice. Or when Aunty cooked her special homemade chicken noodles for the whole family. Or when a relative turned 60.
I practically never saw my friends, even though I was due for many catchups after coming back from overseas.
In Chinese culture, family, togetherness, customs and tradition are incredibly important. So what I was doing seemed pretty blasphemous.
I received remarks from my relatives like:
“Why you so long never come visit me???”
“But it’s legal what”
“Your head square square one la”
Despite all this, I stood my ground, believing that I was keeping my sīla very well. I thought people around me just couldn’t deal with being cooped up at home and were being heedless.
I called up my Dhamma friends and ranted to them, complaining that I didn’t feel understood. People didn’t bother understanding my good intentions.
I reflected that a benefit of keeping sīla is freedom from remorse. I thought to myself, in the future, I’ll feel at ease knowing that amidst all the suffering, sickness and death endured during the pandemic, I did my best not to consciously contribute to that.
That probably sounds well and good… except for the fact that I was miserable and depressed.
The Middle Way
Recently I had a series of insights that have helped me move closer to the ‘right’ effort. I realized that self-imposed isolation (on top of other things) was causing me depression and that it’s actually not a crime (literally and figuratively) to go out. As we’re social beings, we do need adequate levels of human connection, and I’ve learned that it’s especially important to me personally.
Close friends of mine know that I have a strong defilement of self-denial and borderline asceticism, which often throws me off the middle way. My behaviour during the pandemic has been a case in point.
Let’s revisit the Buddha’s advice introduced at the beginning.
This whole time, I thought I was doing the right thing because by isolating myself:
1. I’m not harming myself physically
2. I’m not harming others physically
3. I’m neither harming myself nor others physically
But I never really considered my mental health when reflecting on this. And even though I knew I was feeling depressed, I thought that it was better for me to endure that state of mind than put lives at risk.
I thought I was doing the right thing, especially when I looked to the monks as role models. Even in ordinary circumstances, my Ajahn (monastic teacher) rarely ever left the monastery unless there was a good reason (e.g. to visit sick devotees at the hospital). This sent the message that Dhamma practitioner should focus less on the external world and more on doing inner work. As long as there is food, shelter and medicine, a practitioner can remain in one place, limiting their movements and restraining the senses. This solitude is important for the practice.
Again – all well and good. If you can practice the Dhamma at that level – Great. Amazing.
But personally, I was punching above my weight. I was trying to practice like that and it was not working. I was just not at that level yet, but I was forcing this onto myself because my logical mind willed itself to do something that I was not emotionally and intuitively ready to sustain. It was an effort, but it was the wrong effort.
I’m reminded of a quote by Ajahn Chah:
“When you practice, it has to be in line with your own strength. Here you have a single cart and your ox is the size of your fist, and yet you want the cart to carry as much as a ten-wheeled truck. You see ten-wheeled trucks passing you on the road and you want to be like them. But you’re not a ten-wheeled truck. You’re just a cart.It’s sure to break down. You’re what’s called a fruit that’s ripe even before it’s half-ripe, food that’s burned even before it’s cooked.”
(In the Shape of a Circle by Ajahn Chah, translated by Ajahn Thanissaro)
So in realizing this, I tweaked my behaviour.
Now, I make a conscious effort and set aside specific times during the week to spend quality time with close friends and family.
In addition to that, I’ve also taken a gentler approach in my practice (e.g. it’s OK to be watching more Netflix), as I feel that this is just what I need at this time.
That being said though, I’m still careful not to be heedless – not to veer towards Extreme #1. I give myself a quota: two outings or gatherings a week – just enough to keep me uplifted and mentally well. I do this with the underlying intention to take care of myself, not simply out of pure, unrestrained pleasure.
I think this is ‘the middle way’ for me – although it may look different for other people.
Over the years, I’ve learned that sīla and right effort are not black and white. It’s more of a gradual training in skillfulness and understanding rather than something that you ‘get right’ or a list of ‘to do’s’ to check off. The ‘right thing’ can look different, depending on circumstances and your capacity to practice at that time. For example, the monks observe 227 rules, and some do it with great ease – but if I tried to make myself do that right now, I’d probably have a nervous breakdown.
I think what’s most important is one’s intention – knowing what our intention is when doing something, and how pure it is. You could tell yourself that you don’t have much capacity for self-restraint, so you HAVE to go out 10 times a week. But is that really true? Or are you just making excuses and being heedless? It’s therefore also very important for us to be honest and true with ourselves. Then, we can truly act with goodness in our hearts, bringing goodness to others and ourselves. I believe this is right effort.
Wise Steps:
Reflect on the middle way and ‘right effort’ for you, so that you can rest assured that you’re not being heedless and also taking care of yourself. Set up systems and take intentional actions, like setting a quota for how much you go out per week.
If you’re experiencing peer pressure from others to go out more than you’re comfortable with, practice establishing right view. Reflect wisely so as to establish goodwill and empathy in your mind. Reflect on how all beings are the owners of their actions and its results and know that your actions do matter.
Practise gentleness and self-compassion. The pandemic has shaken up the world. While we work towards cultivating an unshakeable mind amidst turbulent conditions, it’s important to have mettā as a foundation during these tough times, accepting and receiving whatever we may be going through before trying to ‘fix’ any of it.
