Of dependent origination and dāna
You have probably heard by now of the hailstorm’s terrible impact: over half of our houses damaged, crops lost in the fields, wide scale flooding and — worst of all — the loss of the bridge across the Tsangpo which links us to the outside world. Once again we are reminded of the First Noble Truth. We are certainly experiencing dukkha first-hand!
Despite the best efforts of our headman Ngawang, wrong speech continues unabated. Following Master Padmasambhava’s teachings, Ngawang organized the creation and ritual destruction of a gossip girl effigy but, if anything, the rumours and bitter accusations have only increased.
Some villagers have a very simple explanation: that a youth defied one of the hailmaster’s rules by interfering with one of the reversing discs he had so carefully positioned. If this is so, the hailmaster would have had no choice but to remove his protection of us and punish the offender. I fear, however, that the cause of our misfortune is more widespread. The size and the intensity of the hailstorm argues for the cause being deeper than the misadventures of a single youth. It is likely the result of karmic fruition from multiple sources. This is a difficult concept to explain but I will try.
The Buddha’s teaching of dependent origination tells us that everything (the hailstorm included) comes into existence due to pre-existing conditions. The details of this system of cause and effect are far too numerous and intertwined for us to grasp in their entirety. For example, a hailstone smashing into my roof has innumerable pre-conditions: the atmospheric environment that created the hailstone and the water from a distant lake that evaporated to form it; the grass plant that provided the roof thatching and the sunlight and water that nourished that plant; my decision to locate our house in that spot and my parents’ decision to conceive me in the first place. If any one of these things had not transpired, the impact of the hailstone against the roof could not have occurred. In turn, that hailstone’s impact will go on to condition other events, in this case the need for me to repair our roof!
To continue, karma is a specific instance of this general law of causality. If I perform an action of body, speech or mind, the teaching of dependent origination assures that this action is bound to eventually have an effect. Even the smallest action, either positive or negative, is pregnant with consequences. In a village the size of ours, individuals (myself included) have committed many negative deeds in this lifetime and countless more in our prior lifetimes stretching back into beginning-less time. Through the workings of karma and dependent origination, these deeds will bear karmic fruit; the effect of even a small number of these deeds coming to fruition simultaneously could be significant. It could, and I believe did, cause a hailstorm.
In the face of these indisputable teachings, it is amusing that I have been fretting about the fact that I only purchased one amulet for Anil and I to share instead of two. I suspect that all of the hailmasters’ efforts and the purchase of a hundred amulets would have been unable to turn the tide of karma in this case.
But all this speculation can be paralyzing. We must take immediate steps to rebuild our bridge and, although Anil and I have contributed our labour and 15 lengths of cable, as a community we are still short of the 100 lengths that are needed. There are several reasons to be concerned about the reticence amongst some of the villagers to contribute dāna toward this project. First, our doctors must travel to the next village to subdue the naga illness there and prevent it from spreading. The practical and medical reasons for this are far less important than the karmic merit that would accrue to the doctors and, secondarily, to our village. It appears sorely needed.
Second, I wonder if my neighbours have been influenced by the thinking of the foreigners that occasionally pass through our village on pilgrimage. For them, giving seems to be something that one does primarily to alleviate the suffering of those that have less. A Buddhist’s answer to ‘why should we give’ might be different. A central goal of dāna is the effect of giving on the donor: the production of mental states and the fostering of renunciation and non-attachment. And as one of the ten meritorious actions, a generous act of dāna today is certain to produce positive karmic fruit in the future. The act of giving accrues more benefit to the giver than the receiver and, for this reason, should be done.
I am hopeful that many more villagers will contribute and we can begin rebuilding. In the meantime, I draw much comfort from my faith. Although we are indeed suffering and, as winter approaches, this suffering may intensify, the Buddha assured us that suffering has both a cause and an antidote. Through my daily meditation practice, I work to loosen my sense of self and take our current challenges less personally. Circumstances are difficult at the moment. My faith ensures me, however, that these circumstances will change. The suffering that we face right now is, like the blossoming of a Pemako orchid, indeed like all things, impermanent.
