The list in this verse is suggestive rather than comprehensive, but it implies that everyone has a role, a purpose – so what is your purpose in this life?

We are (I think) aspiring sages, hoping to increase our wisdom and decrease our ignorance. Interesting then that the instruction is to “tame” ourselves. Pay close attention to your next thought; it may point to what most needs taming in your mind. What part of you jumps up and says, “I don’t want to be tamed!”?

When I was younger, I learned that my Myers-Briggs personality index described me as an ESTJ, or “the administrator”. I was disappointed to think I wouldn’t be a leader, but recognized that my strengths were in making good lists and executing tasks. In retirement I knew that I had to do something to increase my compassion — my effectiveness was high, but my sensitivity clearly needed work. Partly for this reason, and partly because I’ve always been interested in medical and end-of-life issues, I sought out the opportunity to become a hospice volunteer. Meeting so many people in the last phase of life has made me a better listener, and balanced my internal life effectively.

I’ve also pursued excellent meditation teachers and companions, and learned how to discover what my “next need” is.

I encourage you to take the same diagnostic attitude to your own life and activities. It might help to discuss with a trusted friend. What characteristic do you possess or embody that puts you out of balance? That makes you angry or impatient or ornery? Often what needs work is the flip side of our greatest strength.

If we want to become wiser as we age, we need to make a conscious assessment of what in our minds needs taming, and find a way to put the training into action.

Let one such as this advise you, instruct you,
And restrain you from rude behavior.
Such a person is pleasing to good people,
But displeasing to the bad.
Dhammapada v. 76-77, translated by Gil Fronsdal

I’ve heard Joseph Goldstein ask the question: What would you rather find waiting for you when you come to the breakfast table in the morning? -a thousand dollars or a friend who knows you with all your flaws?

It’s a bit of a trick question – I’d like to have both, I think. But the friend who sees us clearly has more value. If we collect two or three such friends around us, the support can work miracles. We might consider all of our actions in terms of how these valued friends would see them, and this could be a powerful motivation for bringing our best intentions to the surface.

It seems to me that many of us are reluctant to make ourselves students in the sense of looking up to others.There’s an ego-reaction, a resistance to humility, that can get in the way of seeing where we need to work on ourselves. In fact, the places where we’re the most stuck tend to be the hardest for us to see, and more easily visible to others. These verses ask us to recognize that there are people around us (if we’re lucky) who can point out important lessons in how to live harmlessly and how to become more free from the confinements created by our own clinging.

Of course, we could also be the sort of friend who cares enough for our close ones to help guide them toward more wholesome actions. Perhaps the way to go about it is to find one or two other people who are also committed to becoming more whole in the sense the Buddha pointed out – truthfulness, harmlessness, generosity, etc. With these goals in common, truly noble friendships are possible.

So, it’s not a matter of one person always being the student and the other the teacher. We can support each other in our aspiration towards making our words and actions more wholesome.

Like fresh milk,
Evil deeds do not immediately curdle;
Rather, like fire covered with ash,
They follow the fool, smoldering.
Dhammapada v. 69 and 71, translated by Gil Fronsdal

These are the last two verses I’ll be using from the “The Fool” section of the Dhammapada. You may be pleased (or relieved) to hear that the next verses will be from a section called “The Sage”.

Verses 69 and 71 tell us that what goes around comes around, but perhaps not immediately.

The example that leaps to mind is how happy a drunk person is – feels like a million bucks! Feels witty and funny and the life of the party. Perhaps only the next day does he feel the hangover and discover that he said and did a number of things that would have been better left unsaid and not done.

It could be the same when engrossed in a video game (or pornography). The thrill is irresistible when one is in its thrall, and can leave a bad taste afterwards when we realize how much time we’ve lost and that we don’t feel like doing anything constructive as result.

On the other side, if we do something difficult that doesn’t feel great at the time, like holding our temper for example, then the reward may come later, but it is no less real.

The underlying principle is that all of our actions have consequences, even if we can’t see them right away.

A deed is good
That one doesn’t regret having done,
That results in joy
And delight.
Dhammapada v. 67-68, translated by Gil Fronsdal

This might be a good time to think about things we have done recently (or not so recently) that we feel happy about, and those that cause discomfort when we recall them. In doing this, we are reviewing not so much how we react to others’ actions, but of our own.

One example of a good deed that produced joy was near Christmas-time a year ago when I baked some gingerbread people and laid them out with supplies for decorating for some young relatives who were visiting. I didn’t know how they would react, but it was a surprise and engaging fun for everyone, so I still recall it as an act of generosity that worked out well.

I often feel good when I have finished a support visit with a hospice client. I am so careful to listen, say little and be gentle, that I rarely go astray in these situations.

The times that I recall with regret pretty much all have to do with hurting other people (usually unintentionally). I’ve neglected friends or family members I should have remembered, and been rough with a few very sensitive people. Maybe more than a few, especially if I look back beyond the past few years. I am sorry for these actions.

There is some sort of initiating energy required for wholesome actions, but once started, they have their own momentum. There seems to be a “getting started” hump in the way of picking up the phone and calling the person who needs attention even though we may not have anything in particular to say to her. It’s parallel in my mind to hauling myself out of a chair to go swimming or jogging. Ooof! But once started, the rewarding feeling is guaranteed. Cleaning out mom’s garage? Baby-sitting for a friend? Giving blood? Getting things in order for company? Even doing the dishes or cleaning the bathroom. All of these actions can produce a little squirt of real joy.

What are the joy-producing and sadness-producing actions you perform regularly?

A terribly important point is raised by this verse – whom do you consider to be your enemy?

Other people can appear as obstructions to us, but who can cause us more harm than anyone else? Why, ourselves, of course.

If you find someone else annoying, that person may or may not be aware of the reaction they are engendering in you. The reaction is yours, and under your control. Think for a minute – how is this person violating your idea of how things “should be”? It would be nice if everyone were respectful, self-aware, kind, truthful, had nice personalities, etc.; but is it a reasonable expectation, based on experience? (My answer: no way.)

Rather, we take our desires to be reasonable expectations, and the problems begin right there; these expectations are our real enemies. I’m not suggesting that we have no expectations of others, only that we don’t have unrealistic ones. The most important attitudes we have concern ourselves and our place in the world. If we (subconsciously or not) think that the world revolves around us, we are guaranteed to be disappointed. But if we can step back enough to see that we are moving through a fabric of energies that is constantly in motion from all directions, we have a better chance of relaxing into the moment and seeing things more clearly.

As the verse suggests, being aware enough to refrain from doing evil deeds is a very good start for us mortals.

A discerning person who associates with a sage,
Even if for a brief moment,
Will quickly perceive the Dharma,
As the tongue perceives the taste of soup.
the Dhammapada, v. 64-65, translated by Gil Fronsdal

Does a spoon know the taste of soup?

These verses bring up the question: what are we looking for? If we are tuned in to the wavelength of wisdom vs. foolishness, we are more likely to recognize both. But if we fill our minds with self-consiousness (what do they think of me? how do I look?) or other not-so-important stuff, we miss the opportunity to experience reality directly. It is unbelievably easy to have our main recurrent question be: how can I make myself more comfortable right now?

It is rare to meet someone whom we recognize as wise, but so important to have our antennae out for such people! Sometimes we know where they are and can find them and put ourselves in their company, even if briefly. Can you imagine seeking out the wise as a priority leisure-time activity? It is possible.

A sage might be a monk in robes, but could just as easily be your aunt Bertha. Don’t let appearances mislead you. Some quite high and mighty “holy people” haven’t seen wisdom in a long time, and some very humble people have really let go of clinging.

Some people think there are “silent buddhas” (realized beings) walking among us. What do you think? Does deep wisdom move among us unrecognized?

The beginning of wisdom is self-knowledge. Not sure who said that (if anyone), but this verse makes the point.

Someone dear to me is trapped in a delusion so strong and rigid that he cannot tolerate any contradiction to it, which makes his life very difficult and painful. And yet, he is quite sure that he is right and everyone else is wrong. In this verse, the Buddha suggests that we don’t understand as much as we (often) think we do. Until we are fully awakened, we can’t know everything, so a healthy dose of humility is in order.

If we know that we don’t understand everything, then we will bring an inquiring attitude to any situation we happen upon. If we think are in possession of all the information we need, but aren’t, we are likely to act in ways that are unproductive at best, and harmful at worst – and not even notice the damage.

One experiment we can do to test our wisdom is to put ourselves in the shoes of the opponent of the moment. I remember once sitting in an airport lounge and becoming aware of the incessant whining of a child. Initially I was annoyed and concerned that this would continue all through the flight (inconveniencing me and others). After I listened more closely, it became apparent that the traveling child had some sort of handicap that put her out of control, her own and her parents’. The parents were awfully distressed, and seeing that, my annoyance was replaced with compassion.

What can we know? That wholesome actions bring wholesome results, and unwholesome actions bring unwholesome results. We can collect evidence over the long term that will prove this thesis beyond a doubt. But we have to be paying attention to this level of experience – actions and results – rather than filling our days with empty noise.

This verse raises the question of ownership. What does it mean? And what can we truly own? So much of the answer is setting the context. We delude ourselves into believing that we have control of things, of ourselves and circumstances. But how much and for how long?

We are born into a situation not of our choosing, and our decisions along the way are dictated by the available (often limited) options that we see before us. Without our permission, our bodies and minds age, become ill and decay, until we are no more. So, in what sense do we own ourselves?

The Buddha taught that the only things we can own are our actions, words and (to some extent) our thoughts or intentions, and these we have some control over only for the present moment. The rest of it is rolling along due to causes and conditions previously set in motion – too many causes for us to disentangle – and intertwined with all the causes and conditions that others have set in motion. This everlasting tornado of intentions and events is what we were born into and what we will die out of, and almost none of it is under our control.

This is relevant because we can get so excited about what we think we own – money, a car, a house, a job, a stereo system, jewelry, even our friends and family. These things are attractive because we think they are ours. We’re much less interested in other peoples’ money, cars, etc.

Imagine what it might feel like if we really understood that nothing in this world can be owned by anyone. How might we think and behave differently? Jealousy would become irrelevant and self-interest (to the exclusion of others) reduced, compassion might flower, theft would become meaningless, since there’s no ownership to transfer. We would become fully aware of what we can own, our words and actions, and direct our energies toward having them nourish or heal ourselves and the world in whatever small way we can. And, I think, a sense of peace might descend.

This verse harks back to the idea of choosing to associate with wise companions. Our world is largely made up of the people we interact with: our families and friends, workmates, fellow students, volunteers, dog-walkers, neighbors, whatever.

There’s no suggestion of being rude to people we consider “unworthy”. Rather, the idea is to keep walking our path and not be distracted by those who would waylay us with superficial attractions. “There is no fellowship with fools” is not the same as “not suffering fools gladly”. The second is usually shorthand for putting others down, being impatient with and dismissive of people we think are our inferiors. That’s haughtiness, not wisdom.

How do we know who’s who in this scenario? Who are the fools and who the helpful companions? A good start would be to seek out people who behave in a way the Buddha recommends: guided by harmlessness, generosity, kindness, truthfulness, and sobriety.

This is a frequently quoted verse of the Dhammapada. It presents a decision point: should I tarry with this person or walk on? Is this person heading in the direction I’m trying to go? If not, better to be alone for now.

Today we start on a new chapter titled “The Fool”. The opening verse is rich with layers of meaning, so we can meet it from our own starting points. I like to think that we, you and I, are not entirely ignorant of the true Dharma, or we wouldn’t be pursuing this inquiry. On the other hand, most of us are not yet free of ignorance, and so are fools at least part of the time.

It is a deep irony that those living in ignorance usually think they know everything they need to know; so the first two lines of this verse are designed to arouse a bit of doubt. The sense of exhaustion, of fighting an uphill battle, is a signal of clinging. The anxiety that sometimes keeps us awake at night drags us down, to no purpose. The question is raised: what are we clinging to? What do we fear will happen?

The Pali word (bala) here translated as “fool” originally meant a young child who is not yet able to speak. Therefore, it is sometimes translated as “childish”. To be an adult is to let go of foolish ideas and views and see things as they are.

Samsara is the beginningless and endless round of birth and death, not only in the human realm, but including the animal, heavenly and hell realms. Some of it is pleasant, for a while, but in the end, it has no meaning, and so the Buddha pointed out a way to escape into wisdom.

So what are we clinging to, what do we fear? What is it that keeps us bound inside this washing machine of samsara? We need to do our own investigations to discover what thoughts generate our most intense fears. So far, I’ve discovered that the things that make me a fool all have to do with some idea of myself, of what can and can’t happen to me, and what should be happening around me. When I can drop these ideas and just be with things as they are without grabbing at them or pushing them away, there is peace.