I'm going to make a generalization, something I try not to do.
I'm going to guess that most of the people who read this blog live in a
pretty safe environment. Most of us don't experience the anger that seeks to
destroy, to intentionally inflict pain. That kind of hatred happens in other
places: in war zones, police states, places where religious intolerance is the
norm. It doesn't happen where we shop. It doesn't happen to us.
Or does it?
Celine, Charles, and I went to Kingaroy today, a town about ten miles away
where we do our weekly shopping. Charles needed some dental work done. I wanted
to get some night lights and other things for our Buddhist center to make it
safer and nicer for the people who stay there for retreats. I offered to take my
car. Celine drove.
After we left the supermarket and picked up Charles, we headed back to
Nanango. But first we stopped at the big hardware store on the
outskirts of Kingaroy. Celine parked the car,
handed me the key, and we all went in. After about five minutes or so we came
out. Celine called me and I went to the driver's side of the car.
Someone had deliberately keyed (gouging a car with a key or
similar sharp-edged instrument) the front quarter panel, both doors, and the
rear quarter panel. The gouges were deep—down to the metal and into it. We went back into the store, but when they checked their security cameras,
they said regrettably that our section of the parking lot wasn't covered. We called the police station to report the incident, went to the station to fill out a report, and drove home.
So there you have it. I came up hard against the realization that someone is
so angry with me that they very possible hate me. Too strong? I really don't
think so. I saw the calculated maliciousness of the damage.
And I know about karma.
Today it came out of the past to grab me. I know how hatred can fester and
grow over time from unintentional thoughtlessness to calculated maliciousness
to uncontrolled retaliation. Where on this escalating slope of hatred my
"adversary" is I don't know. But on it, he, or she, is.
So how did I react? Initially, I was angry. This felt personal. The damage was
carefully done to cause the most damage. It didn't feel like random act. Thankfully, the anger passed fairly
quickly. It would have been nice if it hadn't arisen at all, but I did a lot
better than I would have before Buddhism.
Then apprehension. Someone who hates me enough to take the risk of being
caught and charged with malicious mischief is in a town I visit regularly. Paranoid? Not really. A
karmic enemy has surfaced, and while I have no idea who he or she is, my karmic
enemy may know who I am. This will certainly give one pause.
What next? Questions arise. Can I let go of the anger enough for both of us?
How deeply compassionate can I feel for this person? The money I will use to
pay for the repair work was given to me to be used for my work. The person will
have been culpable in a situation where Dharma money is not used for its intended
purpose. This is very serious.
How does my karmic adversary feel now? Happy? Worried? Surely not calm.
Seeking comfort in thoughts of how to let go of negative emotions and
destructive reactions? I'm afraid that someone who is capable of such ugly
emotions as those that lead to the violence I saw a few hours ago is not calm,
not happy, not reflective.
And so I feel sadness. Someone I am connected to through my past actions
is in pain and will suffer from his or her actions today. And I contributed to
their suffering with my previous involvement with this person. So tonight the
verse I say every night will be even more poignant:
All evil actions committed by me
since time immemorial,
stemming from greed, anger, and ignorance,
arising from body, speech, and mind,
I deeply repent having committed.
It’s so easy to make an enemy. We do it all the time. It’s not so easy to let go of anger to the point of not feeling even the slightest twinge of it arising. To not even have the thought of “no anger.”
But letting go of the anger, not even thinking of it, is something we each need to do.