I have been reading more of Old Path, White Clouds lately. In particular, I have been drawn to discussions of the problems that the Buddha faced as his popularity grew, and his ideas drew new people to study the Way.
This is because I was promoted to the position of Lead Designer on my project, and the team is growing – increasing my personal investment and responsiblity in our success, while creating more opportunities for miscommunication (as growth always does). So even as things move forward, there is always the danger of little side-steps, and backslides. I find the Buddha’s experiences with this very issue incredibly valuable and inspiring.
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In the chapter I just read, the Buddha had decided to spend his ninth rainy season retreat in one of the newer, thriving monasteries that had sprouted as a result of his popularity. Here, he was for the most part separated from his senior monks – and over time it became clear that the monastery suffered from a problem: navel gazing.
This sounds funny to say about monks – after all, essentially that is what they do, right? They beg food, sit in the forest after they eat, and contemplate existence. That’s pretty inward – yet it also produces enlightment. Which you think would make it a good thing.
But some inward looking is selfish, self directed – and essentially destructive. Spending too much time focusing on your own needs makes it difficult to live in the world, and to interact well with others. As in all things, one must establish a balance.
There are three passages in this part of the story that really struck me. The first is about the power of focusing thought on the ideas that matter most to the goal you are pursuing:
[The forest of the monestary at Ghoshita] was filled with simpsapa trees under with the Buddha liked to meditate during hot afternoons. One day after his meditation, he returned to the community holding a handful of simpsapa leaves. He held them up and asked the bhikkhus, “Bhikkhus, which is greater – the number of leaves in my hand, or the number of leaves in the forest?”
The bhikkhus answered “The number of leaves in the forest.”
The Buddha answered, “Just so, what I see is much greater than what I teach. Why? Because I teach only those things that are truly necessary and helpful in attaining the Way.”
The Buddha said this because at Ghoshita there were many bhikkhus who tended to lose themselves in philosophical speculation. Bhikkhu Malunkyaputta had been especially advised by the Bhudda not to entangle himself in esoteric questions that were not essential for the practice. This was because Malunkyaputta had a habit of asking the Buddha such questions as whether the universe was finite or infinite, temporal or eternal. The Buddha always refused to answer such questions.
One day Malunkyaputta felt he could no longer endure the Buddha’s silence. He resolved that he would ask the Buddha his questions one last time and if the Buddha still refused to answer him, he would ask to be relieved of his vows as a bhikkhu.
He found the Buddha and said, “Teacher, if you will agree to answer my questions, I will continue to follow you. If you refuse, I will abandon the sangha. Tell me if you know whether or not the universe is finite or infinite. If you don’t know the answers, just say so.”
The Buddha looked at Malunkyaputta and said, “When you asked to be ordained, did I promise to answer such questions? Did I say, ‘Malunkyaputta, become a bhikkhu, and I will solve your metaphysical problems?’”
“No, Lord, you did not.”
“Then why do you insist that I do so now? Malunkyaputta, you are like a person shot with a poisoned arrow whose family summons the doctor to have the arrow removed. The man is given an antidote, but he refuses to let the doctor do anything before certain questions can be answered.
“The wounded man wants to know who shot the arrow, what his caste and job is, why he shot him. He wants to know what kind of bow the man used and how he acquired the ingredients used in preparing the poison. Malaunkyaputta, such a man will die before getting the answers to his questions. It is no different for one who follows the Way. I teach only those things that are necessary to realize the Way. Things which are not helpful or necessary, I do not teach.
“Malunkyaputta, whether the universe is finite or infinite, temporal or eternal, there is one truth you must accept, and that is the presence of suffering. Suffering has causes which can be illuminated in order to be removed. The things I teach will help you attain detachment, equanimity, peace and liberation. I refuse to speak about all those things which are not helpful in realizing the Way.”
Feeling ashamed, Malunkyaputta asked the Buddha to forgive him for making such a foolish demand. The Buddha encouraged all the bhikkhus to focus on their practice and avoid useless philosophical speculation and debate.
It is very tempting at the start of project (regardless of your role) to get super-excited about all the wonderful answers to personal questions one might find on the journey ahead. And all endeavors suffer from some navel gazing in this way. Whether you’re making a game, a car or even a dinner for 8 – the temptation is to think that you will achieve some specific, personally resonant, pleasing discovery during the process. An answer or solution that scratches an itch you have, or confirms a suspicion, or allays a fear that nags you in the back of your mind.
And when you approach things from this perspective, you run the risk of closing the mind to what truly matters about the experience – missing something important because it does not fit your expectations, or because you are disappointed that the thing you *thought* you’d solve is in fact unsolvable.
This is a good way to feel that you never make progress. It’s a good way to get lost – especially if you’re doing something creative. Because it saps the thing you make of value, before that thing has a chance to really breathe. And soon enough, you’re spending more time thinking about what isn’t right and what isn’t true, than what is or better still, what could be.
Knowing that it’s hard to make progress, and yet… understanding that progress will be made – that is a challenge. Knowing that no one can tell you what that progress will be, exactly – that’s even tougher.
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Later in the season, an argument breaks out among the monks while the Buddha is off in his hut, retreating.
At first, it’s a simple matter of pride – one of the teaching monks fails to wash out a basin, and is chastised by another monk of a similarly high rank. In making a small point about whether or not the failure was *intentional* or *accidental*, the monks spark a deep debate within the community.
Over time, rumor of the rift spreads outside of the monastery, to the lay-disciples of the Way. People become uneasy and a small group of monks who are trying to remain neutral approach the Buddha and ask him to intervene. He tells them, essentially, that one should not become so attached to their viewpoint as to endanger the harmony of the group. But of course, no one listens.
A while later, he is again asked to step in and help bring the two arguing groups together. This time, they ask him plainly to leave them to their own devices. After all – they are grown monks! They will figure out a way to solve this philosophical debate!
So the Buddha leaves the conflict at the monastery behind, without giving any notice. He travels to meet with other monks and asks them about harmony.
Anuruddha led the Buddha into the forest where he lived with two other bhikkhus, Nandiya and Kimbila. They were very happy to see the Buddha. Nandiya took the Buddha’s bowl and Kimbala took his outer robe. They cleared a place for him to sit by a thicket of golden bamboo. They brought a towel and wash basin. The three bhikkhus joined their palms and bowed to the Buddha.
The Buddha asked them to be seated and he asked, “Are you content here? How is your practice going? Do you encounter any difficulties in begging or sharing the teaching in this region?”
Anuruddha answered, “Lord, we are very content here. It is calm and peaceful. We receive ample food offerings and are able to share the Dharma. We are all making progress in our practice.”
The Buddha askedk, “Do you live in harmony with one another?”
Anuruddha said, “Lord, we care deeply for each other. We live in harmony like milk mixes with water. I consider living with Nandiya and Kimbila a great blessing. I treasure their friendship. Before I say or do anything, whether they are present or not, I stop and ask myself what their reaction would be. Would my words or actions disappoint my brothers in any way? If I feel any doubts, I refrain from the words or actions intended. Lord, although we are three persons, we are also one.”
The Buddha nodded his approval. He looked at the other two bhikkhus. Kimbila said, “Anuruddha speaks the truth. We live in harmony and care deeply for each other.”
Nandiya added, “We share all things, from our food to our insight and experience.”
The Buddha praised the, “Excellent, I am most pleased to see how you live in harmony. A sangha is only a true sangha when such harmony exists. You have experienced real awakening and that is why you have realized such harmony.”
The Buddha concludes that in order for people to truly realize harmony in a group, they must follow some simple rules:
- Sharing a common space
- Sharing a daily routine that is essential to their survival
- Practicing, together
- Sharing insights that come from that practice
- Respecting others’ viewpoints, and not forcing them to follow your own viewpoint.
In making something together, for which we are all paid, all the members of my team share responsiblities, dreams and insights. But if they cannot be considerate of how each experiences this process, and respectful of their views about how it might work – well, progress is much slower.
Courtesy is also important. It is easy to forget how small, simple actions (like offering someone something to drink, making a place for them at a meeting table, or simply welcoming them into a room) will create harmony. It is easy to forget that these little things make everyone feel respected – creating an environment where different viewpoints are free to co-exist.
Similarly, it is easy to rush from decision to decision, idea to idea, observation to observation – without making room for that mingling that’s so necessary for innovation. Especially when there is time pressure related to the completion of your goals, or competition for recognition within or outside of the group. One can lose sight of the practice (working together to make something great) and get lost in navel gazing, blaming, and shaming.
The very structure of commercial creation can lead us to forego thoughtfulness – which in turn, leads to indifference. An indifferent team cannot create a joyful or meaningful product or experience… for themselves, or anyone else.
Joy in, joy out.
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After spending 3 months with the happy monks, Buddha moves on to Jetavana, where he reunites with a monk from Ghoshita and hears that things went from bad to worse after his departure. At first, they were worried about the Buddha, and even went to look for him. But eventually, they returend to the sangha and the bickering continued.
Soon even the lay-disciples were upset. Clearly, the villagers said, Buddha had been driven away by the painful argument in the sangha. Monks worthy of their support would find a way to confess wrongdoing, and return the group to harmony. When the monks still failed to reconcile, the people refuse to feed them. How can they reward the monks for following the way when in fact, they have strayed?
So when Jetavana’s senior monks heard that the disputing monks were arriving to ask for the Buddha’s forgiveness, they worried out loud. What should they say? Should they choose sides? Who should they feed?
The Buddha smiled. “Offer food to both sides. Express your support of the sangha. Offer your praise when any of them say things in accord with the Dharma.”
Eventually, both sides agree to disagree and the philosophical conflict is resolved – at least, in as much as it can be. Damage has been done to the harmony of the group, because viewpoints were not respected. And fixing that kind of thing takes lots of time.
It’s impossible to “resolve” tensions within a group by asserting one’s own viewpoint. Much better to draw attention away from the principle being debated and direct it towards the goal at hand. Scolding leads to pettiness. Pettiness leads to obstinance. But when we reinforce people for talking steps in the right direction, they can rise to the occasion.
This is my goal as I continue to develop as a lead. Don’t point out where things are falling short – show people where they could be. Don’t highlight the gripes , chat up the failures or magnify the impossiblities. Look up, and reach higher, inspire more. Learn to listen, practice giving up authority and let go of the urge to assert your viewpoint over others.
Only by letting go of every leaf in the forest can you possibly hope to grasp a few.
