Capitalism Was A Dirty Word And A Misbegotten Ideology

Communism was the unspeakable profanity and foul invective to be used against someone you loathed. His head was shaved, and he was dressed in the loose, flowing robes of a Buddhist monk. Fresh from a life of many hours of daily meditation, he let the frenetic energy of New York City pass him by. Since she wasn’t there, he entered the establishment and was directed to a waiting room inside. He crossed his legs, closed his eyes, and started to meditate. Dimly he became aware of a disturbance, voices, and laughter. A loud exclamation of Is he for real? brought him back to the world, and he opened his eyes. He was surrounded by a gaggle of women dressed in white gowns with green paste smeared thickly on their faces and their hair in curlers. When I read that story, I was reminded of something else. Back when I was going to college in India in the late sixties, virtually everyone was leftist. Capitalism was a dirty word and a misbegotten ideology, and if you really disliked someone and wanted to insult him, you called him a capitalist. I laughed and am still laughing.

Hold On To  Your Heart

Hold On To Your Heart

We’re so sure that the way in which we view the world is the only right and proper one that we see those who deviate from it as misguided and those who completely diverge from it as aliens from Mars. Such thinking inevitably leads to the sharp polarization that occurs in many facets of life today, especially in politics and religion. Kornfield, because of his training and intellect, recognized what was happening, and this incident played a role in launching him on his path of explaining Buddhism to a Western lay audience. We don’t know what changes, if any, happened to the women in the salon. You forget that everyone you meet, everyone in the world, is a human being stuck in the same predicament, trying with their imperfect intellect to make sense of this immensely complicated firmament. Each person is thinking, May I be happy. May I be free from sorrow now and evermore. The only difference between individuals is the way in which they believe they can achieve their personal quest for happiness. Some actively wish ill for others as part of this search. So where does that leave you? If all worldviews are just models, should you consider them all equally valid? Won’t this lead to moral relativism where any act can be justified by some stretch of imagination? The right answer is that there is no right answer. What you do as an individual is a reflection of your state of consciousness. There’s a story of a man, who, disgusted with the seditious views the Buddha was spreading, gave the Enlightened One a drink laced with poison.

Have A Little Faith

The Buddha drank it, knowing full well what it was, and blessed the man. The poison had no effect on him, and the man was launched on his own journey of awakening. But that tale is apocryphal, and the person was the Buddha. What is its relevance for you and me? Much more important than what you do is who you are being as you do it. Whatever action you take, be consciously aware of who you are as you take it. Your son, in turn, is mad that his sister won’t let him play with her toy furniture set. You explode angrily at this mutual sniping. You are a frustrated parent. You’re also a bad example. This was especially true when the comments were negative, which meant there was a good chance the person would be let go. Why do I have to do this? I would rather be working on increasing sales in my region. Howard decided to come to terms with it.

Something So Right

He elected to focus entirely on the person with whom he was dealing and the impact it would have on her. Soon after, he had to speak to a young manager who had received terrible evaluations up and down the line. He meditated for a few minutes before the meeting and consciously let go of his own feelings of dislike for the task ahead. He thought with compassion of the possible effect the talk would have on the young woman and what he could do to soften the blow. I was honest with her, Howard said later. I told her what I agreed with and what I didn’t and what the further implications were. I was candid that, unless there was dramatic improvement in three months, she would probably have been asked to leave. I then asked her how this affected her and her family and what I could do to help. The result surprised him. The subordinate burst into tears and said that no one had ever offered her such constructive advice. She asked if she could meet with him every two weeks to chart progress, and the executive agreed. Four years later, Howard had left the firm, but the subordinate was still there and doing well. Little that I said was different from previous similar meetings, he reflected. But the emotional space from which I spoke was vastly different. I wasn’t thinking of finishing off a distasteful task. I was concerned about how I could help a young person in trouble survive in a difficult environment. I didn’t realize what an enormous difference this would make. It was a huge lesson for me and part of my own growth as a manager. When you honestly, sincerely, completely, and mindfully have the intention of being of service to your fellow human beings, something magical happens in the way you experience the world. Deep down, in some way, we all know this. All we need to do is remember it. I know this because of the way participants in my program react to Nipun Mehta. A Berkeley engineer, he was on the tennis team and good enough that he took a year off to explore the possibility of turning professional.