26 August2006 BEAUTY THAT TRULY PLEASES
The Hidden Power Of Compassion, Generosity And Self-Restraint
By: David Edwards
The Fire Of Discontent
The 4th century poet Aryasura described nothing less than a revolution
in human understanding when he wrote:
"The only beauty that truly pleases is the beauty of virtue."
(The Marvelous Companion, Dharma Publishing, 1983, p.305)
Aryasura was specifically contrasting human physical beauty with
what he considered to be human moral beauty. The contemporary Chinese
thinker Hsing Yun indicates what the poet had in mind:
"When we begin to desire something, we feel dissatisfied because
we do not yet have it. If we get it, we feel dissatisfied because
it has not yet lived up to our expectations or because we now fear
that we may lose it. After we have lost it, or after it has grown
old, we feel dissatisfied again." (Master Hsing Yun, Being Good,
Weatherhill, 1999, p.36)
The 19th century French composer Hector Berlioz adds some emotional
colour with this description of his reactions on seeing Irish actress
Henrietta Smithson for the first time:
"I became possessed by an intense, over-powering sense of sadness...
I could not sleep, I lost my spirits, my favourite studies became
distasteful to me, I could not work, and I spent my time wandering
aimlessly about Paris and its environs." (Quoted, Frank Tallis,
Love Sick, Century, 2004, p.123)
To make the point clearer still, consider the words of the contemplative,
Ajastya, whose fathomless generosity, we are told, attracted the attention
and admiration of no less a celebrity than Shakra, Lord of the Gods.
By way of a reward, the awestruck deity offered Ajastya anything his
heart desired: "whatever you wish. Ask what you will." The
sage responded with words that resonate thunderously 2,000 years on:
"If you wish to grant me what will truly please me, grant me
this: May that fire of discontent which burns in the hearts of people
the world over - even after they have won spouse, children, power,
and riches beyond their wildest dreams - may that inexhaustible and
all-consuming fire never enter my heart!" (Aryasura, op., cit,
p.57)
Is it true? Does the fire of discontent rage on even after we have
won everything we might conceivably desire? Is the whole thrust of modern
civilisation rooted in utter folly?
The point, for our present purpose, is that the satisfaction of desire
does not and cannot extinguish the fire of discontent. Physical beauty,
for example, inflames the heart, sets the pulse racing, but it does
not +truly+ please for the simple reason that fire burns - we suffer.
The Smiling Autumn Moon
So what did Aryasura mean by 'virtue'? Many of us associate the term
with appearance rather than reality - with someone making a show of
pious, 'holier than thou' behaviour in order to feel, or be considered,
superior. Or with someone giving in order to get. Or with Machiavellians
like Tony Blair professing moral belief precisely to obscure his lack
of scruples as he bombs the world better. Or with someone desperate
to find order and meaning in a meaningless world - hair-shirted 'goodness'
securing passage to some 'better place' after death.
But Aryasura's idea of virtue has nothing to do with any of this. It
has to do with the human capacity for self-awareness, empathy and reason.
I, for example, know what it means to feel jealous, angry, abandoned,
confused, afraid, alone and sad. I also know what it means to be happy,
encouraged, relieved, hopeful, joyful and ecstatic. I have an idea of
what other people are suffering and enjoying when they experience these
emotions. I am therefore able to empathise. I cringe at the sight of
a dog being kicked because I know the suffering of a blow to the body.
I smile at the sight of a toddler laughing in a paddling pool because
I know that happiness.
I am also able to reflect that my suffering is not more or less important
than anyone else's. I cannot rationally argue that my pain matters more
than yours - it might matter more to me, but that is mere bias. I take
it to be an empty argument at best leading to shameful consequences
at worst. After all, it would be shameful to steal food from a hungry
child simply because I was able to do so. Wanting the food doesn't make
it right, nor does being able to take it - such behaviour cannot be
defended as reasonable. From a simply rational point of view I know
that placing my own interests above those of others is unfair; there
is no justification beyond self-serving prejudice.
But who cares if it's unreasonable? Who cares if it isn't fair?
The answer is: everyone else does! I am not an island, an isolated
individual - I am deeply connected to, dependent on, my family, friends
and society. From my earliest days I have learned that I need the help
of others to survive and flourish. Everything I possess, even my name
and body, has been given to me either by others or with their assistance.
Like it or not, I really do need to be liked, supported and loved. And
I know that people tend to like and love those who respect the needs
of others, who act as though the needs of others are at least as important
as their own.
I also find that caring for others is conducive to my own sense of
well-being. When I am overcome with selfish greed and anger, I feel
isolated, anxious and unhappy. One of the fundamental bases of ethics
is simply that the human heart is happier when it is well-disposed towards
others.
So my concern for others is rational, fair, in my own interests, and
conducive to my own happiness.
But when Aryasura talks of virtue being the only beauty that "truly
pleases", he is talking of a specific variety of concern for others
- the kind that is sincere. In other words, the times when we are generous,
restrained and loving, not because we are focused on the benefit to
us, but because we are focused on the benefit to others. That is our
goal, we really do have their welfare in mind.
Which is not to say that all, or even many, actions are entirely without
a selfish component. Even someone hurling themselves into an icy river
to save a drowning person may be risking his or her life with some thought
of prospective glory. But that hope may be a small factor beside the
overwhelming concern that someone is dying and should be saved - as
we know, the impulse to save other life can be sufficient to risk our
own.
Despite this ability, we are of course profoundly biased in our own
favour. Many thoughts are taken up with what we want, what we don't
want. Our self-concern is on a hair-trigger; it takes very little to
make us greedy, determined to put our interests first.
The reason we are so selfish is not simply that we are 'fallen' or
evolutionarily hard-wired - many cultures have been, and are, far less
self-centred than our own - it is because society has persuaded us that
a self-focused life offers the best hope for happiness. Our ad-packed,
profit-driven, corporate culture is structurally deaf to what Ajastya
had to say. It is all too easy to believe that we've got to push and
shove, to beat everyone else, to get what we want.
But there's already an interesting contradiction here. As discussed
above, we tend to like and admire people who really do care about others.
I once knew an elderly gentleman, Fred, who was quite unabashed about
declaring: "I take care of myself first." But, he added: "Once
I'm okay, I try to do what I can to help."
In reality he spent most of his time taking housebound pensioners on
"runs" in his car to the seaside, bingo, shopping and so on.
He took food for elderly disabled friends and visited any number of
people who were alone and isolated. All of this was done without fuss
- he waved away expressions of gratitude and was not interested in being
admired, paid, or otherwise rewarded. He helped me, too, and seeing
all this made me feel I would do anything to help him if ever he needed
it. And this is the extraordinary charm of moral beauty - it generates
deep admiration, even love, in others. Aryasura put it perfectly:
"For so it is that the brilliance of the virtuous attracts the
peoples' love as strongly as does their most beloved friend or relative
- just as the smiling autumn moon in the heavens, showering its beams
freely in all directions, wins the love of all." (Aryasura, ibid,
p.333)
But isn't this exactly what we hope to achieve by launching ourselves
on self-focused careers to the summit of personal success? Don't people
become music, TV and sports stars to be loved in just this way?
I know another person, a director of studies at a language school where
I used to work. His special delight lay in supporting teachers and students
as far as he was able. He went to great lengths to give teachers the
time off they requested and to keep them working for as much of the
year as possible, student numbers permitting. Whereas many in positions
of authority often take pleasure in turning down requests, in confronting
people with power, he clearly found great satisfaction in using his
power to help.
One might question the practicability of this kind of attitude in hierarchical
management. And yet I never thought, for example, about taking unwarranted
sick leave, or of taking advantage of the school in any other way, because
I was treated so well by this one sincere and well-intentioned individual.
The idea of causing him unnecessary problems was unthinkable. I know
many other teachers felt the same. In this way, his attitude of generosity
and respect spread throughout the entire school making it extremely
popular with students.
The 'Slingshot' Effect
In a recent Media Alert, I cited the case of Vietnam veteran Claude
Anshin Thomas who in his book, At Hell's Gate, described how the horrors
of war had left him all but psychologically ruined. Thomas had witnessed,
and participated in, appalling violence:
"I don't sleep very much at night. I haven't been able to since
an early experience in the war... At some point either late in the
night or early in the morning, the Vietcong overran our perimeter,
the protection that surrounded us. Of the 135 or so Americans present,
only 15 or 20 were not killed or wounded. I happened to be one of
those few.
"In the course of this night the fighting became very intense,
hand-to-hand. I had to take lives with my hands. As the fighting subsided,
I then had to listen to the screaming of the wounded and dying."
(Thomas, At Hell's Gate - A Soldier's Journey From War To Peace, Shambhala,
2004, p.62)
Thomas described the psychological consequences:
"I was trapped in the prison of self, confined by guilt, remorse,
anxiety, and fear. I became so tormented that I was unable to leave
my house. Physically and emotionally, I was under siege, bunkered
in." (p.37)
A turning point came when Thomas attended a meditation retreat with
the Vietnamese Buddhist teacher Thich Nhat Than. Towards the end of
the retreat, Thomas spoke to a Vietnamese nun, Sister Chan Khong, to
ask her forgiveness, to atone for his part in the killing of her people.
Chan Khong's response was to invite him to Plum Village, Thich Nhat
Than's monastery and retreat centre in France:
"If you come in the summer, many Vietnamese people are there
- refugees, boat people - and you can learn to know the Vietnamese
in another way. Come to Plum Village; we can help you. Let us help
you!" (p.43)
Thomas wrote of the impact of this generosity of spirit and of his
experiences in Plum Village:
"I was overwhelmed by this offer of help. No one in my own country
had made such an offer to me, an offer of support and help to live
differently, to find peace.
"At a very deep and profound level I understood the truth and
sincerity of this offer... What the Vietnamese community did is love
me. They didn't put me on trial. They offered me an opportunity to
look deeply into the nature of my self, to walk with them in mindfulness
and begin the process of healing and transformation." (pp.43-45)
This indicates the power, and beauty, of what we call 'virtue' - here
of generosity, compassion and forgiveness in the face of what many would
consider unforgivable crimes. No amount of drugs, drink, hatred, or
even courage, had the power to liberate Thomas from his torment. What
did have that power was unconditional kindness offered by members of
the same people he had fought in war.
It was not just the generosity and kindness that helped Thomas, but
their contrast to what he might have expected to receive - hatred, damning
judgement, even revenge. Much as a judo wrestler uses an opponent's
weight to his or her advantage, so the practice of restraint in the
face of anger and violence gains strength from the anticipated, but
absent, hostile reaction in a way that can startle and inspire. This
'slingshot' effect happens every time we respond to someone who harms
us with restraint rather than retaliation.
This has the capacity, not merely to neutralise a negative event but
to transform it into something positive. For example, if someone inconveniences
us in some way - by blocking our path in the street, arriving late,
forgetting to return a possession and so on - they will likely expect,
and brace themselves for, some kind of hostile response. We can instead
confound this expectation by responding with generosity and kindness.
Expecting a negative outcome, our antagonist experiences, not merely
a neutral, but actually a highly positive outcome. This is all the more
powerful because it is so unexpected.
None of the above should be taken to suggest that it is primarily the
task of the weak to forgive the crimes of the powerful. Nor am I advocating
passivity in the face of violence. The point is that there is a hidden
power in generosity, compassion and restraint that makes a nonsense
of the reigning 'common sense' presumption that choices are often black
and white, with "an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth"
being the only 'pragmatic' response. All else, in fact, is +not+ naïve.
In truth, retaliatory violence is often advocated as the only 'credible'
solution, for example in foreign policy, precisely because advantages
through violence, rather than peaceful and just solutions, are being
sought. Thus the "war on terror" is a war. Terror is involved.
But the goal is not at all to rid the world of terror.
Media Alert = Garbage!
We at Media Lens occasionally receive quite heated emails in response
to our work. Some of this, it has to be said, we bring on ourselves.
Our philosophy is in part inspired by abolitionist editor William Lloyd
Garrison, who was also accused of being a 'trouble maker' and of seeking
to generate controversy and 'excitement'. His response:
"Sir, slavery will not be overthrown without excitement, a most
tremendous excitement." (Quoted, Howard Zinn, 'History is a weapon,'
http://www.historyisaweapon.org/defcon1/zinnslaem10.html)
It is often obvious that hostile emailers are angry and intent on punishing
us for some perceived egregious error or failing. The senders are often
well-motivated and believe they are standing up for what is good and
right. They often clearly believe anger is a valuable, empowering force.
They are also aware, at some level, of a number of issues. They are
aware that they are heated or angry. They are aware that they are arguing
on an emotional rather than a purely rational level. They know that
they are being harsh or abusive and are likely to cause offence. They
surely expect to receive abuse or at least cold dismissal in response.
From their perspective it's reasonable that someone would reply to their
anger with abuse - they have themselves, after all, responded to irritation
with abuse in just this way.
Something interesting happens, then, on occasions when we are able
to respond calmly and rationally (not always the case!), without anger
and retaliation.
The first thing that happens is that the emailer knows that we are
responding reasonably by not retaliating with abuse in kind. This throws
their own angry email into sharp relief. As discussed above, we have
a powerful need to view ourselves as fundamentally reasonable - it is
vital to be seen as such if we want to be accepted and liked, much less
loved. While our emailers may have believed it was reasonable to respond
aggressively to the latest Media Lens 'nonsense', how reasonable is
it for them to respond angrily again to a polite and restrained reply?
Of course some do respond with contempt and anger. But in my experience,
the strength of their need to see themselves as fundamentally reasonable
means they are far more likely to match a restrained, non-aggressive
reply with something similar.
After all, their anger was initially motivated by our 'unreasonableness'.
But a restrained response may well provoke the thought, 'This is actually
quite a reasonable reply - maybe these people aren't as mad as I thought.'
Secondly, it is unreasonable of them to continue being angry at +us+
for being unreasonable, if they are willing to be less reasonable than
us by sending further abuse!
Alternatively, if they really are too angry to match a restrained response
with an answer in kind, then they may well feel unable to reply at all
because they know they will appear unreasonable and irrational, not
just in our eyes, but more importantly in their own. In my experience,
enraged emailers can occasionally manage a second venting of abuse in
response to restraint, but rarely a third. They just cannot convince
themselves that further abuse would be justifiable - and the whole basis
of their outrage is that they see themselves as reasonable people making
a stand for what is right and just in the world.
My co-editor, David Cromwell, responded to one fiery reader who sent
the following email:
"What was the garbage I just was sent as a 'media alert'? Along
with the recent 'people ask, what can I do about..' diatribe that
was sent by the 'Davids' I am wondering why I signed up for this rubbish.
I want to hear them challenging the media when they blatantly lie
and deceive (as with the Iraq massacre).
"Instead I am being lectured to by communists about how 'property
is theft' oh puuuuurleeeese! and other crap.
Stick to 'Correcting for the distorted vision of the corporate media'
which you are good at..."
Cromwell wrote back:
"Dear George,
"Thanks for your feedback, even though I suspected what was
coming when I saw 'media alert' in inverted commas. :o)
"I don't know how long you've been signed up for media alerts,
but most of them are indeed straightforward analyses of media deceptions,
omissions and distortions. Every once in a while, though, we do like
to send out something a little bit different. Often these will address
issues of humanity that underpin the approach of Media Lens. A lot
of people respond very warmly to these; but we realise they may not
be for everyone!
"It might be worth reminding folk that these media analyses
and essays are offered for free. Apart from the very occasional 'guest'
alert, they are written by just two people who have other major commitments
(don't we all?!) and who are not earning a living doing this.
"Thanks again for writing. We do appreciate feedback!
best wishes,
David Cromwell"
Our correspondent then wrote again:
"Just to re-iterate. I love your genuine media alerts. When
you see lies all around and shout at the news broadcast for blatant
lies, the alerts and an oasis.
"In that respect I think you are doing a superb job. I just
don't want to be lectured to in emails. If I did I'd go over to znet
mag and sign up there or read marxism today.
"I agree there haven't been many emails of this type. I've been
on for about a year and only two that I can remember were 'off-topic'
but both were very recent.
"Of course it's your time but I think it would be better spent
attacking the lies and ommissions of the corporate media. Perhaps
that is why I don't like them, I think the time would be better spent
elsewhere. Just my 2p..
Kind Regards,
George
"p.s. I love the way you keep calm and respond politely. It's
hard to be annoyed at someone like that hehe ;-)"
What is so remarkable is that, swayed by what amounts to a national
religion of anger in our society, we believe that the most powerful
way to respond to anger is in kind or worse. Determined to silence our
abuser, we demand: "Don't you dare talk to me like that!"
One of the favoured, end-of-show moments in soap operas involves someone
angrily reducing some miscreant to stunned silence through the sheer
force of their verbal assault.
The irony is that, in the real world, the opposite strategy of self-restraint
has exactly the calming and/or silencing effect we might hope to achieve
through anger.
In fact, thanks to the 'slingshot' effect discussed above, patience,
generosity and compassion achieve far more than this. When the anticipated
retaliation does not come, the irate are effectively released, not just
from their existing anger, but from a painful cycle of tit for tat abuse.
Helping to dissipate a hostile mood in this way really is a great kindness
- anger is one of the most painful and destructive emotions to endure.
The real surprise, then, is that the angry person can respond actually
with gratitude, even warmth, to someone who was recently the target
for intense hostility. This truly is the power and beauty of virtue.
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