Angulimala

Angulimala, the robber and murderer, is one of the best known figures of the Buddhist scriptures, because of his dramatic life story. His conversion to monkhood and later to sainthood was exceptional as he seems to have been the only former criminal to be accepted into the Buddhist monastic order. The Buddha had often warned not to judge people from appearances and their external behavior. In Angulimala's case, the Buddha had seen his hidden potential to win freedom, not only from his present low moral status and from rebirth in the lowest worlds of painful existence, but that Angulimala would also be able to gain the highest freedom from all suffering in this very life.

If I had to list one quality about myself that I find a bit disheartening, it would be the fact that, although I have only a few triggers that can make me angry, if you happen to pull said trigger, the resulting gunfire gives the effect of an atom bomb. The bullets which leave the barrel of my mouth are varied, ranging from pseudo-spiritually-laced invectives to logical fallacies so numerous that I could fill the state of Nebraska with the straw men that I create. It is not something that I am proud of, obviously, but it is something that happens, especially if I have had a few glasses of Pinot Grigio or Merlot that evening.

In case you haven't noticed, I have lately been fascinated with the concepts of forgiveness: what it means, how it is given, how it is obtained, and, most importantly, who deserves it. It is the last concept that I wish to delve into at present. My current story, "Bluebelle of the Ball: The Musical" has been dealing with forgiveness, especially in the last act. The idea that anyone can be forgiven under the proper circumstances and that all have an inherent goodness to them (i.e., universalism, Divine Spark, Buddha Nature, fitra, etc.) is something in which I strive to believe. I want to think that all beings actually do seek only happiness and honestly do not have nefarious goals in mind when they speak to me. For me, the idea of giving unto others is what makes me happy is so inherent that sometimes it becomes difficult for me to understand why others cling to a philosophy of "me first" or "winning at all costs", or why the idea of competition is so alluring. This concept, so utterly alien to me, makes it difficult for me to empathize with someone who espouses said worldview. This inability, while knowing its perversity, is something that I have yet to be able to shake off in its entirety, making it seem as though I am inflexible when it comes to holding others up to certain standards. In a way, clinging to one's own philosophy so tightly can lead one to experience the lack of empathy for others, which, in my own philosophy, leads to hypocrisy. This fault reminds me of the story of Angulimala.

The stories of old on which this present narrative is based do not tell us what had moved Ahimsaka finally to accept his teacher's macabre demand, without any further and stronger protest. One of his motivations may have been that an unquestioning obedience to the guru appeared to him as the first duty of a pupil, this being an echo from his earlier way of life that was governed by higher principles. But the stronger factor in his decision will probably have been that his hidden dispositions had actually emerged in his mind when vistas of violence were evoked by his teacher's words.

Why does it become to easy to look down smugly on those whose philosophy I feel is lacking? In foresight and hindsight, discussing such issues objectively is easy. It is when I am in the heat of the moment that controlling myself becomes difficult. It becomes easy to assign preconceived notions of who or what a person is simply by learning of what philosophy they follow or how they look or sound or to point out what I feel are the flaws in said philosophy. Beyond this, we learn that people make assumptions based on these little seeds of what we believe a person to be. It is a simplification process in our minds so that we can instead focus on other things instead of on who this person is that we see, as an individual and a being. We want to put people in these little boxes so that we can go on with our lives with as little resistance as possible. These assumptions become a form of violence against each other; they become an act of preemptive defense that allows us to judge those we do not even know. Those seeds of preconceived notions which I have been planted in the garden of my heart bloom. But are they the flowers that I want to look at every day?

Then the Blessed One performed such a feat of supernormal power that the bandit Angulimala, going as fast as he could, was unable to catch up with the Blessed One, who was walking at his normal pace. Then he thought: "It is marvelous! Formerly I caught up with even a galloping elephant and seized it; I caught up with even a galloping horse and seized it; I caught up with even a galloping chariot and seized it; I caught up with even a galloping deer and seized it. But yet, though I am going as fast as I can, I am unable to catch up with this monk who is walking at his normal pace." He stopped and called "Stop, monk! Stop, monk!" "I have stopped, Angulimala. Do you stop, too."

As I said, I have always liked the story of Angulimala. If a man who once murdered 999 people and strung their fingers around his neck like a mala can learn to control his actions and attain Enlightenment, then maybe I can at least learn to stop projecting onto people nefarious deeds of which I have no evidence. Maybe I can, one day, finally accept the difficulty of doing so, even if that means having to slow down my own life and my own mind so that I can focus on each person as a person. Maybe I can learn not to be smug and self-righteous. Maybe it is possible to retoil this garden and to simply start once more to plant the proper seeds. Maybe it is possible to find the safety on the gun of my mouth.

(We see here in this picture Buddha basically telling Angulimala "Just calm the hell down, why don't you?"