Slogan Thirty-one

Don’t malign others.

From the Lojong for the Layperson booklet:

            Our words carry great power, and we need to be sensitive to how we use them in expressing ourselves. There is often a huge chasm between what we say and what is heard, especially when the words we say involve criticism or judgment. To malign someone means to speak about them in a spiteful way – in other words, with an intention to harm. This slogan encourages us to refrain from deliberately hurting someone by what we say to them or about them. The Victorian poet Mary Ann Pietzer advised considering three things before we open our mouths: “Is it true? Is it necessary? Is it kind?”

Photo: Ganoderma lucidum – a wood-decaying bracket fungus on an oak tree.

          Not too long ago, I replaced some worn-out furniture in my den with new pieces – two chairs, a couch and a bookcase. When the old furniture was removed, there were imprints on the carpet from where the pieces had rested. No amount of vacuuming seemed to raise the fibers again; they are a permanent reminder of what was there. Angry words, gossip, unfounded accusations or cruel taunts are all ways my words can malign others. No matter how many times I apologize, make amends, and try to right what was wrong, they still leave an indelible impression on the person I’ve harmed. When I’ve been on the receiving end of such injury, I tend to want to protect myself rather than be open and vulnerable around that person. My trust has been betrayed, and I am hesitant to expose myself. I wonder how many people I have damaged in this way, who feel they must stay guarded around me? Like the divots in the carpet, my words can have long-term consequences, and I should choose them with care.

Slogan Thirty

Don’t be so predictable.

From the Lojong for the Layperson booklet:

          Why is it that family and friends can so easily push our buttons or manipulate us? The answer is because our behavior is so predictable. We are like programmed robots; we react a certain way depending on whether a stimulus is painful or pleasurable. But with awareness we can pause instead of being carried away, responding from a less selfish and impassioned perspective. When our ego is not so busy defending itself, a spacious vista opens before us, full of endless, fresh possibilities.

Photo: On green moss, a row of cowrie shells with a cerith shell in the middle.

            Insurance companies make a profit by using statistics – a collection and analysis of numerical data used to compute probabilities. They've figured out that certain humans generally act in certain ways, so they use this to their advantage. For instance if you’re a married female between the ages of 25 and 65, your car insurance rates will be lower. They've found that men, single people, senior citizens and teens are riskier to insure. I’m sure my family and close friends could make similar predictions about me. Like a doctor testing a reflex, they know pretty well what my reaction will be to certain people or situations. They might say, “Don’t bring up that subject, or she’ll get angry and start and argument.” Or they could explain, “If she’s really afraid, sometimes it seems like she’s mad.” Yet the insurance companies know there are anomalies, people who deviate from their calculations. Slogan thirty encourages me to be one of those folks, someone who doesn't have a conditioned pattern of behavior. Keep them guessing!

Slogan Twenty-nine

Abandon poisonous food.

            This slogan is a warning that what appears as appealing may instead be contaminated. Self-centeredness is the poison that taints what might otherwise nourish us. Like a picnic spread left too long in the sun, virtuous thoughts and actions can become spoiled. Rather than enjoying the natural gratification that comes from an act of kindness, we ruin it with selfish motives. Our spiritual practice becomes spiritual narcissism, separating us from others. As Judy Lief explains, such egoism is “a form of ingesting experience to fatten our own self-absorption.”

Photo: Amanita sp. - a genus that includes some of the deadliest species in the world and accounts for over 90% of mushroom fatalities.

            I remember the first yoga class I ever attended. My doctor had suggested I find a better way to handle the stress in my life, so a friend introduced me to her teacher. As I attempted to learn to the poses, it was obvious I wasn't very flexible or coordinated. I became agitated that older women in the class seemed to be more advanced than I was. As a result I pushed myself beyond what was physically comfortable or safe, because I didn't want to look like a novice. I paid for it the next day with sore muscles, but even more insane was that I’d defeated the purpose of going – to unwind and relax. In the same manner, I can reverse the good that might come from spiritual practice when self-centeredness breeds arrogance or a competitive attitude. That poisonous food is what my ego craves, yet it is devoid of spiritual nourishment.

Slogan Twenty-eight

Abandon any hope of fruition.

From the Lojong for the Layperson booklet:             

            “Fruition” implies a belief that certain efforts will make our future lives better. Unfortunately, we are inclined to carve in stone what we think the fruit should look like. If we’re constantly preoccupied with our expectations, we’ll never relax in the present; we’ll forget to enjoy the moment itself. And when we are fixated on the results, we lose track of the undertaking we’re supposed to be focused on. Instead of paying attention to the task we’re doing, we become obsessed with manipulating the end result to our satisfaction. Such an agenda can work against us, making us fearful, stubborn, frustrated and impatient. We may fail to see any signs of improvement, unaware that our preconceived ideas are preventing us from seeing progress. This slogan prompts us to act without attachment to a specific outcome.

Photo: Ripening fruit on a fig tree.

            One of the perks of marrying my husband is that he didn’t really care what I did to our yard. In one semi-isolated corner, I had a dream to build a small arbor-like enclosure. I could imagine myself sitting inside, communing with nature and having an outdoor spot for meditation. I sketched off some plans, bought lumber and screws, then began the task of measuring and sawing. A few weeks later the structure was finished, and I set about planting ferns inside. The finishing touches were a little bench to sit on and a terra cotta rabbit hidden beneath the fronds. It was a cozy little retreat, and I couldn’t wait to use it. Unfortunately when I was drawing up plans and dreaming of meditative bliss, I forgot to include dealing with mosquitoes. Here in South Georgia, the only time we don’t have these insects is winter. So as I tried to find my bliss, they buzzed in my ears and bit me wherever they could. Only covering myself in DEET seemed to help, which was not a solution I wanted to rely on. My expectation of a perfect escape turned out to be imperfect in reality; since I couldn’t accept it any other way, I was terribly unhappy. Over twenty years later, the structure still sits abandoned with the exception of its use by birds and squirrels. I may have control over my actions and efforts, but not their outcome. Forming a concrete shape of what my happiness and peace are supposed to look like is almost a guaranteed way not to find either one. 

Slogan Twenty-seven

Work with the greatest defilements first.

From the Lojong for the Layperson booklet:

            Judy Lief calls this precept “a great slogan for procrastinators,” because it requires that we look at what we avoid, put off or refuse to deal with. Defilements are inner obstacles – habitual patterns of thought or emotion. These obstacles sap our energy and block us from awakening our wisdom and compassion. Notice that the slogan says “work” rather than “eliminate,” which is more practical. Once we acknowledge which pattern is the most obvious and disturbing, we begin to pay attention to it and become willing to work at reducing it. As we begin to contain it, we lessen its strength until it becomes manageable. With perseverance, we continue to work on it until we are free of its hold over us.

Photo: A large pine tree limb next to a smaller maple branch.

            Herbalists might welcome a patch of dandelions in their yard, but lawn enthusiasts generally see them as weeds. Instead of a fibrous root system, these plants have a taproot – a thick, central root from which small, lateral roots sprout. Many folks attempt to eliminate dandelions by pulling them up by their leaves. Usually the top of the taproot will break off, leaving enough behind for it to sprout again. When I decide to work on my spiritual obstacles, I may choose one of my smaller habits (a leaf or two). For instance, if I notice a tendency to interrupt people during a discussion instead of listening, I might decide to practice keeping my mouth closed more to give them time to present their ideas. Yet instead of actually listening, I’m secretly planning what I’m going to say while they speak. The “taproot” of this behavior pattern is essentially self-centeredness. Though my ego doesn’t appreciate having this dominant issue pointed out, it is the underlying obstacle at which my efforts need to be directed. As I begin digging around this main root, many of those smaller, symptomatic behaviors will be reduced as a result. I’ll always have dandelions, just maybe not as many as before. 

Slogan Twenty-six

Don’t ponder others.

From the Lojong for the Layperson booklet: 

            Focusing on the affairs of other people can be an entertaining way to distract ourselves from our own shortcomings. We become obsessed with their lives, often enjoying their small misfortunes and failures while forgetting our own practice. Highlighting the faults of others, we compare them to ourselves. We use what we imagine we find as a way to make ourselves feel superior and virtuous. This slogan reminds us to mind our own business. We can barely understand ourselves - how could we know what is in the heart and mind of another person? As soon as we notice ourselves becoming preoccupied with another person, we redirect our attention to something else. When we are not afraid to uncover our own flaws, we'll have no need to compare ourselves to someone else.

Photo: A variety of maple leaves and one sweetgum leaf.

            I looked up the word “ponder” on dictionary.com and found that it means “to weigh carefully in the mind; consider thoughtfully.” Now that doesn't sound like anything you shouldn't do, right? And even if I’m thinking, “That haircut really doesn't do her any favors” or “I can’t believe he’s checking his texts during meditation,” I’m not saying it out loud. So where’s the harm? Let me explain by telling you about our old, metal outdoor swing. Having been exposed to the weather over the years, it showed severe signs of rust. Yet I didn't want to put much effort into making it look better, so I bought some outdoor spray paint and gave it a coat. It looked good for a week or so, but then the rust started showing through the paint again. I should have first used a wire brush to scrub off the flaking paint and rust. Then I could have applied primer and a few coats of paint. “Pondering” other people means I’m pointing out their faults while I spray a coat of paint over mine. But trying to hide my own faults this way just creates more rust instead of getting rid of it. The only way to transform my life is to be concerned with my own behavior.

Slogan Twenty-five

Don’t talk about injured limbs.

From the Lojong for the Layperson booklet:

          Imagine a soldier who recently returned from combat with a missing a leg – would we even consider looking down on him because of his injury? Likewise there is an injury behind every fault or shortcoming. Our focused attention on the faults of another person is not an effective tool of healing. Exposing his or her weakness only discloses our own deficiencies. Such thoughts also produce worry about what others think of us, and we become wary instead of open. Though we don’t need to pretend everything is okay, we can meet and accept the “injured” as they are with kindness and warmth. Instead of making derogatory comments, we can approach them as equals (as we are imperfect too) and offer encouragement.

Photo: Round holes in a redbud leaf made by leafcutter bees.

            Several years ago I was reading a book called Stone Age Wisdom by Tom Crockett. One of the exercises he suggested was finding a large stone, about the size of a flattened grapefruit, and using it as a reminder not to speak negatively for three days. Specifically, it was to be carried everywhere and used as a touchstone to remind me not to talk in a disparaging, judgmental or critical way about anyone. Now I was a little embarrassed about carrying my stone around at first, because I thought people would think I was some kind of nut who had a pet rock. But it turned out I was going to be more embarrassed about something else – all the negative talk that wanted to come out of my mouth. I was shocked at how much I wanted to join in gossip, make “funny” comments about someone, or prove how much “better” I was than another person. I also noticed a tendency to label people in unattractive ways to distinguish them from another person, such as “Crazy Tony” versus another acquaintance with the same name, “Nurse Tony.” Regardless of whether it was done purposefully or ignorantly, it was a wake-up call that showed me just how unkind I can be.