Is Anger Always a Bad Thing?

[Photo by mettabebe]

In response to a quote by Thich Nhat Hanh: "Anger and hatred are the materials from which hell is made. A mind without anger is cool, fresh, and sane." (Peace is Every Step), a friend of mine asked me, "Is anger always a bad thing?" The following was my written response:

When I see someone mistreat a dog, does it make me angry? Yes, it does. Is that bad? That question is really of no value because "bad" is too vague. Two better questions are, "What effect does my anger have?" and "What are the real causes of my anger?"

My anger has many effects, some of which are as follows: My heart and breathing rates increase; my mind races; my muscles shake due to the adrenaline surge; my stomach tightens. These effects are now causes of subsequent effects, some of which I'll list:

(1) Science has shown that adrenaline surges arising from anger, jealousy, fear, etc. have a different physiological effect than adrenaline arising from, say, playing a sport or an active game. The former are considered "bad stressors" that have a deleterious effect on our bodies, leading to classic signs of stress such as increased chances for a heart attack, etc. The latter do not have this effect on the body. So right there, we see one major long-term problem with the energy given us by anger.

(2) When my mind is racing, it is increasingly difficult for me to make well-thought-out, logical decisions. The more my mind races in anger, the harder it is for me to think straight (e.g., the proverbial "seeing red"). If I cannot think straight, I will make mistakes: I will misinterpret phenomena, I will say and/or do things I should not (things that are unnecessarily harmful to others and myself), I will rush decisions and actions, etc. I feel very safe in stating--from my very own personal experience--that any good decision I make while angry is solely the product of luck, and sometimes a product of me being able to slow myself down enough to actually think through what I am about to say or do. I have never, not once in my life, made a decision or performed an action out of anger that I have anger to thank for it.

A common rebuttal to this is that anger gives you energy and the ability to do things like escape captors, etc. I disagree completely. The energy anger gives you was available to you all along; and if you're a prisoner of some sort, and the chance comes for escape, you don't need anger to supply that energy--it should be there as a function of other emotions and instincts such as the will to survive. The most inspiring thing I've read is a story of a Tibetan monk that was imprisoned and tortured for years in a Chinese prison.

Returning to my example about somebody mistreating a dog, the effects I get from anger do not, in any way, help me to help that dog. Responding out of anger at the person or action results in nothing better than responding out of compassion for the dog, and the anger can only result in me making bad decisions in the process of trying to help. So, just on the basis of analyzing its effects, anger is almost self-evidently harmful.

Now let's discuss "the real causes of my anger." Why am I angry at the person or the action instead of feeling compassion for the dog? (in reality, I feel both, but in this example, the anger response is more powerful, more in the forefront) Anger comes out first or more powerfully than compassion if I have sown its seeds in my past more often than I have compassion. Every single time I respond with anger, I sow its seeds in my mind. Each time I do so, that makes it easier for me to respond in anger next time. So, a major cause of why I'm responding in anger is because I have done so before! What solution is there to this self-generating behavior? Mindfulness. If I first calm my anger (because, as we've discussed, I can't think clearly while angry), and then examine it with focused mindfulness, I can begin to see anger's real cause: I'm angry at the person or his actions because I'm unable to see or understand the real causes for his behavior. Maybe he is mentally disturbed, in which case it's not entirely his fault. Maybe he was beaten as a child and this is his learned response. Maybe he's just had a bad day and is taking it out on his dog. None of those justify his behavior! But if my initial reaction were to see that he is harming the dog due to causes in his life that I do not know, then I can respond to him out of compassion for him, and anger has no need to surface and cause all the harmful effects we've already discussed! This compassion generates the same amount of energy as anger, and I am not hindered by anger's harmful effects, and as a side-bonus, I am generating seeds of compassion, which will make compassion more likely to arise in the future! In this way, I can help the dog just as effectively without anger.

This response wouldn't be complete if I didn't touch on the fact that anger has obviously played a role in our survival as a species, hence why such an emotion evolved in the first place. In humanity's early years, survival was predominantly a factor of responding to immediate environmental threats. I don't deny in the least that the adrenaline provided by anger is immediate--faster than most other emotions. But that just goes to show what its value was--when we were about to be taken down by a predator, a flash of anger facilitated our fight or flight response. However, as our civilizations developed, this type of danger has become much less common, and while it might be useful to generate anger in a pure fight-or-flight situation, in anything that requires any semblance of strategic thought (such as fighting in the military!), anger is more of a detriment than a help.

One more situation to touch on before I sign off: that of seeing one's loved ones harmed. This is probably the easiest situation in which to justify anger. If my wife was harmed, would I get angry? Yes! However, I feel that an analysis of anger makes it obvious that such a response is not only harmful, but unnecessary. If she were in danger, there is absolutely no reason whatsoever for me to be angry at the person endangering her. The most important thing is to get her to safety and neutralize the danger. As I said before, if pure fight-or-flight was all that was needed, then perhaps generating anger would be the fastest way to go about it. But if any sort of thought is required, such as handling a delicate situation of being held at gunpoint, anger is probably the worst emotion you could possibly experience at that time. Once she's out of danger, then shouldn't I be angry at the person? No. The person deserves to be punished in whatever way our justice system determines, for the safety of society. But me being angry at the person is only reflective of one thing: my lack of insight into the causes of his behavior. As that Tibetan monk illustrated, compassion is still the ideal response, and one that I hope my practice will develop as my primary response in this lifetime.

Watering the Seeds of Compassion

[Photo by George Nagle]

"Now think of the person sitting nearest you as your own child, and you are the mother, embracing, supporting and caring, wanting to help, being concerned." (Ven. Ayya Khema, Shambhala Sun, January 2007. Pg. 62.)

This is part of a wonderful practice of compassion taught in Buddhism. In this meditation, after settling your body and mind, you contemplate your mother, and feel the love and compassion and softness wash over you. As you sit in this field of love, you then consider yourself as the mother, and turn your attention to your child, some other person in your life. You start with friends and relatives, proceed to neutral parties, and eventually you are able to feel the love and protection only a mother has for your enemies. You bathe in this feeling of compassion and loving-kindness, seeing the nature of this wonderful mental seed, planting it deep so that it comes forth naturally in your everyday life. The more you practice in this way, the easier it becomes, and the more you find it surfacing throughout your day. Like all things, there will be ups and downs. But persevere, and water the mental seed of compassion that resides in all of us.

Interfaith Blog Event #4: The Role of Justice

[Photo by Chris]

Welcome to the fourth Interfaith Blog Event! In each installment of this series, which we're hoping to do on a monthly basis, we'll explore a single topic across three different religious traditions. I am, obviously, writing from the Mahayana Buddhist tradition. Jon, from Jesusfollowers Journal, will be writing from a Protestant Christian perspective, and Sojourner from A Pagan Sojourn, will be writing from a Pagan perspective.

The topic we'll be discussing today is the following:

What role does justice play in the universe?

[Jon's Essay] [Sojourner's Essay]

Justice is a flawed concept. Before we can examine why this is the case, we must first understand the depth of this word.

The word "justice" derives from the Latin word justus which, in turn, is based on the word jus, meaning "law, right." (New Oxford American Dictionary). From this etymology, the concept of jus and, therefore, justice, clearly has two underlying premises: (1) A law exists; and (2) Actions can be right (further implying that they can be wrong). For our purposes, "laws" include both societal laws (e.g. Speed limits) and moral laws (e.g. "Do not murder" and "Do not gossip"). Justice, then, is really the administration of the law.

More importantly, however, how do we intuitively view justice? To gain some insight into this question, let's step away from our wordplay for a moment. The Qabalah, more explicitly the Tree of Life, gives us a wonderful tool for this analysis. The Tree of Life is a pictorial representation of the universe that consists of three pillars, the middle of which is a melding of the two extremes of the outer pillars. These outer two pillars are named Severity and Mercy. In other words, according to this model, a continuum exists that spans the entire range between the two poles of Severity and Mercy, perfectly balanced in the Middle Pillar, the Pillar of Mildness. It seems to me that the manner in which we intuitively view and apply justice lies on this Severity/Mercy continuum. When a law is broken (or we are wronged), we view this offense with a backdrop of Severity and Mercy. Maybe we want to effect justice, which connotes punishment; or maybe we forgive the offender, showing him/her mercy. Most often, our response lies somewhere in the middle, in a merging of these two poles such that we punish the offender, but reduce our planned sentence due to some special (merciful) consideration of his circumstance.

Note that we equally apply this approach to justice in our everyday lives as well as in our social justice system. If somebody says something that offends you, what is your most probable response? Generally speaking, people respond initially with anger or defiance, and then either punish the offender in some manner ("How dare you say that to me, you *$%@!"), or forgive him, or some combination of both. Sometimes our applied punishment is even more insidious, like the dreaded silent treatment. Regardless, the common element is the backdrop of Severity/Mercy -- how severely should we punish somebody who has broken "a law," and how merciful should we be?

The debate over capital punishment is a great example of this dualistic approach. Proponents of capital punishment argue that a person who so hideously harms another as to deserve this punishment has given up his right to life. They deem that the punishment be Severe to the utmost degree. However, note that Mercy has begun to show its face in recent history, as we try to make the death as painless as possible. On the contrary, opponents of capital punishment say that we do not have the right to take life in this manner. However, most of these people still view the situation in terms of "sentencing" the criminal with the punishment he deserves. Herein lies the problem with justice.

In our dualistic manner, we see how one person harms another and therefore think he "deserves" some kind of punishment. This is a clear example of wrong view, with ego as its fundamental cause. Any time we think along the lines of "deserving," it is our ego speaking. "I deserve to be treated better" is your ego exerting its self-importance. "He deserves to sit in prison for 10 years" is solely an ego-trip--how do you know exactly what he deserves? "He murdered his neighbor, therefore he deserves to spend his life in prison" is still an ego judgment on another being. Extending this to the sphere of moral law, any God who administers justice or mercifully forgives is acting out of his/her own ego. Of course, such personification of God is inherently limited. But I feel the truth behind the wisdom still holds--applying justice and, therefore, allowing for forgiveness, is wrong view.

Right view, in contrast, consists of compassionate action and directly observable truth. In right view, we recognize that when one man has murdered another, he must be secluded from society for the safety of all. We attempt to rehabilitate the offender because all beings have the right to such fair treatment. Perhaps it will be unsuccessful, in which case that man never gets to leave prison. Perhaps it will be successful, in which case that man is released to rejoin society. In right view, we see that causes conditioned the murderer's actions and, while his actions are not condoned, there is zero judgmentalism. The murderer does not "deserve" to be punished any more than we deserve to die at the end of our lives or to be born at the beginning.

As another example, instead of applying the silent treatment when a loved one does something to us that we interpret as hurtful, right view is recognizing that the other person's actions are based on a complex of causes, which can only warrant a compassionate response. Even if they did the hurtful action "on purpose," causes and conditions in their past are still the only true offender.

Notice the difference in underlying attitude between right view and wrong view. In right view, all response is based in compassion, recognizing the true causes of all behavior. In wrong view, the dualities of Severity and Mercy, or similarly, Justice and Forgiveness, are employed by the ego in judging another's behavior. Therefore, justice is a flawed concept that only perpetuates wrong views of self, wrong views of other, and wrong views of the world in which we live. It seems logical to our minds, and does get criminals off the street, but it's really like a band-aid applied to a deep puncture wound--while the wound may seem to have been treated from the outside, deep within infection festers.

Compassionate action and right view, however, are the medicines for this wound. They treat directly the source of the problem. Instead of succumbing to ego, we ask, "What can I do to help others?" Then we go out of our way to do it. And we do it without thought of ourselves, but only of others. In the case of a dangerous criminal, we seclude them in prison for the sake of protecting others, which seems very similar to the Justice approach. But there truly is a major difference in the underlying attitude behind the same physical act of imprisoning a criminal. And this is where the strength of right view lies: in fertilizing the seeds of compassion and love in the mind, engendering true wisdom and unfettered love of others. Right View is admittedly difficult to develop, especially in our culture, but the results are worth the effort and are necessary to live a life of wisdom.

What is Truly Skillful Teaching?

[Photo by Romain Guy]

The heart of Buddhist training, and its brilliant effectiveness, lies in the use of Upaya, or skillful means. The Buddha gave many teachings in his day to many people of different levels of ability to comprehend and put into practice his teachings. Instead of presenting set "lectures," the Buddha taught each person according to his means. Some people's mental disposition and past experiences allow them to understand and improve their practice through direct Wisdom teachings--to these people the Buddha taught at an "advanced" level, framing the teachings in terms of emptiness and our inherent Buddha-nature. For others, such an approach would leave them behind, unable to improve their, and others', lives through the Buddha's teachings. To these people, the Buddha taught in a more directly practical manner. For example, to those whose dispositions were such that they could comprehend direct Wisdom, the Buddha may have explained the manner in which karmic influences affect our lives, and how to apply wisdom and compassion in all of our actions. To those for whom such teachings would fail to point them toward their own Awakening, the Buddha may have taught them the Five Precepts to guide them in their lives.

This isn't some judgmental approach that proclaims a certain class of people as "better" or more advanced than others. Rather, it is the ultimate expression of compassion and wisdom, the BEST thing the Buddha could do for that person at that time in their particular circumstances. The Buddha taught that each of us has the ability to Awaken to the fullest extent, and out of his perfect compassion, he guided each person with whom he spoke toward their own Awakening at whatever level they were capable of benefiting.

Any honest look at the world around us, and the people with whom we live, clearly shows that there is no single approach to life that will "work" for everyone. I have many Christian friends who, in their hearts, "know" that faith in Christ is in the best interest of every single individual on the planet. However, a number of my experiences in life have directly contradicted what Christians believe is True (e.g. I have directly experienced some level of interbeing and non-self, which Christianity strictly opposes). Therefore, Christianity clearly does not "work" for me; it does not model my experiences of the world, and I find several teachings in its most holy book to be 100% unethical (the denouncement of homosexuality comes to mind). I would be forced to lie to myself and others if I attempted to follow its teachings. Note that this isn't meant to bash Christianity. In terms of skillful means, Christianity does "work" for many people and is therefore an important guide by which many people live their lives. This is simply a personal example of skillful means in my life.

1-Minute Contemplation: Is there someplace in your life in which you used unskillful means in relating to others? Maybe a friend of yours required gentle compassion and you chose to use "tough love." Or maybe you tried to forcefully persuade somebody to your view, when a more gentle "guiding" approach would have been what they truly needed to hear. Contemplate this situation for 1 minute. How might you have acted more skillfully?

Technorati Tags: Buddhism, skillful means, upaya, Christianity, compassion, love, patience

Altruism as Essential Spiritual Practice

[Photo by charles van L.]

"So in a sense we could say that the practice of generating and cultivating the altruistic intention is so comprehensive that it contains the essential elements of all other spiritual practices." [1]

In Buddhism, we train in ethics, in concentration, and in wisdom. An aspect of wisdom is to see through our motives to discern whether we are acting out of altruism or veiled greed, in other words ethically or unethically. Concentration is the tool required for such penetrating insight.

Shantideva writes,

As long as space endures,
As long as sentient beings remain,
Until then, may I too remain
And dispel the miseries of the world. [1]

It is the deepest, most important, part of our practice as Buddhists to generate this pure altruistic intention for every single thought we have, every single action we perform, every single word we say. We awaken in the morning with the intention to help all beings (note how this is not limited to humans!) in everything we do. We lie down to sleep, thankful for every moment during our day in which our thoughts, words, and actions were altruistically based, and repentant of every instance in which we acted out of greed, hatred, or delusion. There is no judgment, only sorrow over the harm we caused others by our noncompassionate action, and a further vow to dispel the sufferings of every single being with whom we come in contact. In the morning, we begin anew, vowing to base every moment of our lives on compassionate wisdom.

1-Minute Contemplation: Before you go to bed this evening, take 1 minute to contemplate your thoughts, words, and actions throughout the day. Were they based on compassion and love? Or were they based on your selfish ego? Maybe your intent seemed compassionate but a little probing reveals that it was simply veiled greed. See the harm you caused others through your egotistical acts and vow to base every action, every thought, on compassion and love. Leave a note for yourself so that in the morning, you remember to rededicate yourself to pure compassionate action in every moment of the day.

---

[1] Transforming the Mind. His Holiness the Dalai Lama. 2000.

Technorati Tags: Buddhism, Dalai Lama, vow, compassion, altruism, love, wisdom

Exploration of Compassion in a World of Violence

[Photo by Nicole]

This essay is an exploration of how love and compassion can survive and prosper in a world where violence is prevalent and accepted.

I am a relative pacifist. So I often question, "Do we even need violence? Can we live without violence? Should we, given our animal-nature?"

Most people would agree that love and compassion should be shown in most situations. But what about in an Israel-Lebanon type scenario? Hezbollah kidnaps 2 of your soldiers, how do you respond? Are peaceful, compassionate protests and negotiations viable? Or does that just encourage further incursions?

In Tibet, the Dalai Lama has always forbidden violent protests or responses to China's occupation. No further "expansion" has come of this, but is that because the rest of the world would violently oppose further takeovers by China? Or is China actually content with Tibet, and the Dalai Lama's response has maintained peace where otherwise there could have been bloodshed?

I read a story recently where a Buddhist monk was held captive in a prison in Tibet, where he was beaten and tortured, kept hungry and alone. This monk fled Tibet for India, where he met with the Dalai Lama. The Dalai Lama asked him, "Was there ever a time you felt your life was truly in danger?" The monk answered, "In truth, the only time I truly felt at risk was when I felt in danger of losing compassion for my jailers." That, to me, is the most heroic modern story I have ever heard. But if we had a majority of people committed to compassion like this Buddhist monk, would they be overcome by those who would take advantage of them?

This makes for an interesting paradox. Christ called for a turning of our other cheek, the Buddha instructed us not to harm other beings; but if we do this, will militant, extremist factions attack us out of their own misguided self-interest? Yet these great sages were the most wise people who ever lived, and we put great faith in their teachings. We must at least consider their advice.

So what is the answer? I don't think there is an absolute, correct answer to this dilemma. Dogmatic, doctrinal answers fail us here, as they do everywhere. We must apply wisdom to, and account for the practical parameters of, the situation. Our great sages' calls for peace and love and compassion form the ultimate path, the one we try our hardest to follow. But in our current world, many extremists may take this as an invitation to further their own self-interests, territorial and cultural, uncontested. Hence, I think that violent response remains a necessity in our current world. However, that being said, I applaud the great calls for peace, the protests, and the political movements to end war and violence, because to move toward the perfect path of peace expressed by our saints, we need to apply constant pressure on our governments to end hostilities.

For example, consider Iraq. An immediate, complete withdrawal of troops would be foolhardy, as Iraq would likely plunge into civil war. However, groups are right to call for such immediate action, to keep applying pressure to end violence. It is like walking up a down-escalator. Human violence carries us down, but we need to always be walking up, lest we collapse into a hellish state where chaotic violence is the only rule. Sometimes we may slow our walk and hence drift down slowly. But as long as we increase our pace often enough, we can continue making progress toward a life of compassion and turning our other cheek.

Technorati Tags: Buddhism, Buddha, Jesus, peace, violence, Iraq, Israel, protests, Dalai Lama, compassion, love

Transforming Feelings

[Photo by Ramity]

In his book Peace is Every Step, Thich Nhat Hanh explains a procedure to transform our negative feelings, which I find very valuable. Here are the steps in the process:

1. Recognize each feeling as it arises. When a feeling arises, we acknowledge it. Fear is present. Anger is present. Hatred is present.

2. Welcome the feeling. Don't push it away. The way to learn about our fears, our anger, is not to repress them but to actually thank your fear, your anger, for being there for you. You've adopted them as a response for a reason, so thank them for what they do for you. Accept their presence.

3. Calm the feeling. Strong feelings can overwhelm our wisdom, so slow your breathing. "Breathing in, I calm my anger. Breathing out, I calm my anger."

4. Once the feeling is reduced in intensity, release it. Smile at your anger and allow it to depart, thanking it for visiting. Yes, really, smile at it. :) You'll be amazed at how much this helps.

5. Look deeply into the feeling, now that it is no longer overwhelming you. What is its cause? Is there an external stimulus to this feeling? What response of yours causes this feeling to arise? What internal causes are there? Ultimately, all causes are internal, as your feelings are totally based on your responses to stimuli. What effects are there to this feeling? What effect does it create in you? What effect does it have on others? Does your feeling cause suffering to others? Acknowledge it if it does.

Buddhism places great emphasis on this process because we say that our suffering is caused by us alone. Pain is unavoidable, but we habitually compound pain by our response to it, which causes us to suffer. Hence, we need a thorough understanding of our feelings, our thoughts, our actions. We can only eliminate suffering if we understand its causes.

In the book, Thich Nhat Hanh applies this process to negative feelings. However, I'd add that it is just as valuable to apply it to our positive feelings. When we are feeling loving and compassionate, we have the oppportunity to learn how we feel that way. This wisdom teaches us how to be more active participants in our lives; we can learn what causes us suffering and avoid it, and we can learn what causes us to feel love and compassion, and nurture those causes.

Technorati Tags: Buddhism, Thich Nhat Hanh, Peace Is Every Step, feelings, suffering, compassion, love

Compassion Exemplified

[Image Source]

From May 2006 issue of Shambhala Sun, in an article entitled, "She Who Hears the Cries of the World," by Christina Feldman:

A few years ago, an elderly monk arrived in India after fleeing from prison in Tibet. Meeting with the Dalai Lama, he recounted the years he had been imprisoned, the hardship and beatings he had endured, the hunger and loneliness he had lived with, and the torture he had faced.

At one point, the Dalai Lama asked him, "Was there ever a time you felt your life was truly in danger?" The old monk answered, "In truth, the only time I truly felt at risk was when I felt in danger of losing compassion for my jailers."

If anyone were to doubt that Buddhas and Bodhisattvas live among us today, this story should eliminate that doubt. I bow to this monk for the beautiful teaching his life exemplifies.

Technorati Tags: Buddhism, Shambhala Sun, story, Tibet, Dalai Lama, monk, compassion

Your Practice

[Image Source]

One of our biggest challenges is truly making our practice our own, bringing our Buddhist practice off the cushion (or your Christian practice out of the Church) into daily life. As we continue in our practice, aspects of the path come out naturally, without conscious thought—we maintain one-pointed calm in the face of work deadlines, or compassionate, helpful action arises of its own accord when we see somebody who appears to be lost, or we see a butterfly and, without a second thought, take a minute to appreciate its beauty and splendor, before continuing on our way. However, this process is on-going, and we can only devote attention to a limited number of practices at a time.

In a Dharma talk this past Sunday, our resident priest asked us how we apply our practice in our everyday lives. The responses were wonderful! One woman focuses particularly on developing patience, waiting patiently, being patient with others, being patient with herself. Another focuses on kindness, on always remaining aware of whether her responses to others are kind, and in being mindful of situations in which kindness could be extended to others. A man conveyed his practice of attention and connection; he explained that when traveling on public transportation, he practices seeing each individual person present as an individual, connecting with each of them briefly with his attention. Another woman focuses on her breath, maintaining concentration as her practice.

This Dharma talk made me aware that I try to include too many things at one time in my practice, thus artificially limiting my development in any one. One of my personal challenges is that I tend to be more interested in things, ideas, and structures, than people. Therefore, for the foreseeable future, I am making connection my practice. "What can I do to connect with this person?" "What does this person need right now?"

1-Minute Contemplation: What is your practice? How can you focus your practice for the greatest benefit to all beings? How can you improve your practice?

Technorati Tags: Buddhism, practice, Christianity, Dharma, compassion, attention, Church, Temple, connection

War, Ethics, and Religion

[Photo by Tracy Lee Carroll]

I read an interesting article today entitled World Religions: War and Peace, which asserts that religions can take one of three views regarding war:

• Pacifist: War (and violence) is wrong.
• Just War: War can be justified under certain circumstances.
• Holy War: War is justified if it is a Holy War, ordained by the god of the religion.

I'm impressed by the unbiased approach taken in the article. For instance, it correctly denotes that Buddhism is a pacifist religion, but does not shy away from noting that the Buddhist regime in Sri Lanka is seen as oppressing the Hindu minority.

The article got me thinking, where do I stand? I find myself in the pacifist camp, with a caveat. I, personally, feel it's ok to defend oneself if attacked. As Bodhisattvas, it is our responsibility to achieve awakening for the benefit of all beings and, in the process, imbue all of our thoughts, actions, and speech with generosity, ethical restraint, patience, joyous effort, concentration, and wisdom (Six Paramitas), for the benefit of others. But if we are attacked, it inhibits our ability to fulfill our Bodhisattva vows. Therefore, for the benefit of others, we are justified, I feel, in defending ourselves. However, there is a caveat to this, as well. We must NOT do so out of anger and hate. This would allow the unwholesome roots to rule our actions. We must defend ourselves out of compassion. In this way, we will do no harm beyond that which is necessary.

Buddhism is not dogmatic. Our precepts are not dictates—they are generalities based upon observation of actions-results and wisdom. "To do no harm" is our greatest precept, but, as in all things, the compassion that inhabits it must be tempered with wisdom. As a result, war is almost never black & white. Was our invasion of Iraq ethical? Pacifists would say no. The "Just War" camp might say yes, depending on their predilections. In my view, I lean toward no, because the information upon which we based our invasion was incorrect. We were truly in no danger from Iraq. Were the people of Iraq oppressed? Arguably, yes. Was invasion the best way to intervene? I don't think so.

1-Minute Contemplation: Is violence always wrong? If not, when is it justified?

Technorati Tags: Six Paramitas, Buddhism, Bodhisattva, war, pacifism, peace, compassion, ethics