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Virtuous Behavior

For those of you who are new here, maybe for the first time, we do have hearing assistance devices on the counter in the outer hall. Even with a speaker system, I have such a low voice. I keep my voice low, and if I'm going to say something very profound, I'll say it with a very soft voice, so I apologize for that. Welcome to IMC, and thank you for being here. I don't take for granted the opportunity to sit in community and meditate together. I certainly appreciate it and value that opportunity.

Sīla and the Eightfold Path

Maybe I'm feeling that particularly because of the topic for today. I'm going to talk about what in Pali is called sīla^[1], and it's often translated into English as ethics or virtue. It's the middle part of the Eightfold Path. Two Sundays ago, I talked about the Four Noble Truths, and the Fourth Noble Truth is the truth of the way to the cessation, to the ending of suffering. That is specified as being a set of eight practices. These eight practices are sometimes said to encompass Buddhist practice; all forms of Buddhist practice somehow are held within these sets of eight. It's a big list, you know, eight things, but if you are in this for the long term, it's relatively easy to learn. It's a really good list to have in mind because as you go through your life and different circumstances, different aspects of this Eightfold Path are relevant and come into play. It's a way of having the Dharma—the practice of Buddhism—be integrated into your life, or having your life integrated into this practice.

Last week, I talked about five of them. I talked about the first two, which are Right View and Right Attitude, and I talked about the last three: Right Effort (or Right Endeavor, I called it right endeavoring), Right Mindfulness, and Right Concentration. I think I said one sentence on Right Mindfulness! Those first two are called the wisdom factors, and the last three have to do with meditation practice, or cultivating and developing the mind.

In between those is the section that has to do with your action—what you do and how you live your life in the world. And that's sīla. Often called "ethics," probably the best translation into English, which is currently being used by Bhikkhu Bodhi, the great translator of our texts, is "virtuous behavior." The idea of "ethics" can suggest abstract principles that you're supposed to learn or live by. And "virtue" suggests you're supposed to have these wonderful, sweet, inspiring qualities inside, which is nice if you have them. But when you say "virtuous behavior," you're specifying behavior. Behavior counts. Behavior is important—how you live your life and what you do.

So these middle factors of the Eightfold Path have to do specifically with behavior. The first two have to do with understanding, the last three have to do with how you cultivate your mind, but living your life is very important. That is what the topic is today: virtuous behavior.

The Importance of Human Connection

As a further introduction to this topic, I want to point out that generally, virtuous or ethical behavior has to do with our relationship with what's outside of us—most predominantly with other people, sometimes other living beings, sometimes the planet itself. It is being in relationship to something. If we've emphasized meditation too much, it's easy to get the idea that this Buddhist practice is all about withdrawing from relationship—that it's being somehow independent, free, and disconnected. But actually, the opposite is true. The Dharma practice is a practice that, if you do it well, leads to a growth in connectedness and a deeper sense of being connected to others. It leads to valuing that relationship between self and others, being caretakers for ourselves and for the welfare of others.

This sīla, virtuous behavior, is sometimes listed as the first of the three trainings. This is a turning around of the Eightfold Path which prioritizes virtuous behavior as being first, then meditation, and then wisdom. Wisdom is given the pride of place as being at the top, the highest. Some reasonable people might think, "Well, I'm not going to bother with this ethics stuff. I'm just going to go right to the wisdom, because I want the real stuff, the important stuff. Since the first training is in ethics, that's kind of kindergarten Buddhism. I don't really care about that, or I'm basically an ethical person and that's for other people. I just want to get to the real stuff: meditation, insight, and enlightenment. I'm just gonna go for my own enlightenment, and these people are just in the way."

But it's actually the opposite. The whole path of practice is so deeply integrated with our relationship to the world that there is no pulling ourselves completely, independently, and loosely away from the world. The wiser we become, the deeper we practice, the more we cultivate the mind, the more that is actually integral to how we behave in the world. The two go hand in hand; there's no separation between the two.

If you have some doubts about this, there's a wonderful quote from the Buddha that I quote a lot these days, where he defines a wise person. So for those of you who want to become wise quickly, and want to put aside this "lower stuff" of ethics—thinking, "I hope Gil doesn't talk about the precepts, then we're back in nursery school"—the quote goes: "A person of great wisdom is someone who considers the welfare of themselves, the welfare of others, and the welfare of the whole world."

Someone who's concerned with the welfare of all living beings, including oneself, is living in relationship to other people. They are concerned about what's going on with others, considering them, aware of them, and attentive to them. Considering their welfare doesn't just mean that you're sitting in an ivory tower thinking, "It would be a good idea if someone helped them." Rather, it's having a living, heartfelt concern and connection, and perhaps taking actions in the world to support other people.

If the goal of Buddhism is to become a person of great wisdom, in a sense, it begins with developing your ethical behavior, it ends with ethical behavior, and it involves ethical behavior all along in between. How you behave in the world is completely integral to the whole path of Buddhism. It's not elementary; the beginning, middle, and end is to be concerned and interested in this topic.

It doesn't take much reflection to consider how much we are social beings, how much we belong to others, and how they belong to us. We are so deeply connected. I don't know if it's a product of modern society—sometimes urban society has it more, where we're more packed in—but the easier it is to feel alone or disconnected. Modern forces sometimes keep people from being connected in a deep way. Our society could do a lot more to create vehicles for people to feel more of a sense of belonging and connection, but we have it. It's very deep; it's in our DNA.

I was reflecting on this recently, and it can be seen symbolically. When we are in gestation, there's a human being who we are really close to. Boy, do we belong! We are being cared for and tended to; all our needs come from our mothers. And then when we come out, generally, it's someone's hands who catches us, takes us, and holds us. We are met as we come into this world with caring hands. I think it's a fantastically symbolic thing that we come into this world into someone's caring hands.

I remember when the doctor took my son and pretty quickly handed him to me. I remember what it was like to hold him in my hands for the first time. We raised him, and he depended on us those first days—100%, or 120%, he depended completely on everything we did. And then there was a slow process of him growing up, and starting to wean his parents off of him! I don't know who was ahead of the other. I was thinking about this a little bit because last week he turned 22. For me personally, that was a significant age, more so than 21 or 18. But I remember so well the hospital, the birth, and holding him for the first time in my hands.

On Friday, I spent some time with a man who had died. I stood for a little while by him, put my hands on his temples, and just held him. We did the closest thing to what Buddhism has to a prayer: we did a [unintelligible]. We chanted the verses of loving-kindness for this person, the person's family, and everyone. I thought about this person: he was also born to parents, belonged to someone, and was cared for by them. He probably had family members and life experiences. He had been a child, a teenager, and a young adult, dealing with all the challenges and joys of life. A big part of that has to do with the community you're in, or not in. For some people, the idea of connection is very painful because of not having it. That still represents how important it is.

Symbolically, in the Buddhist tradition, this is represented on a mythic scale. They say that when the Buddha was born, his mother was standing, and as he came out, he didn't touch the ground because the gods came with their hands to hold him up. When he died, the gods came and were there attending to him. Then, when it was time to cremate the Buddha, the myth goes that the pyre wouldn't burn. They didn't know what to do. But then one of his main disciples, who had been away at the time, finally made it to the cremation. He unwrapped a part of the shroud covering the Buddha's feet, so his feet were exposed, and he touched the feet. And then the fire lit spontaneously.

Because it's a myth, it's symbolic of something very important. You are born, and hands hold you. And then you die, and many people die with someone touching them. I've been with people who have died, and I can't think of one of them where there wasn't someone touching them while they died.

Nowadays, we have wonderful artificial intelligence and robotics. Someone might want to make things efficient and cheaper by having an automated hospice. We could have conveyor belts that we put our dying people on, with sensors that understand all their needs. It's amazing what the robots can do with their hands that come down—they could take care of every possible need. If they're going through their dying process, there would be a conveyor belt, like at Amazon, where people with a certain condition go to the left, and those with another condition go to the right. The robots would come and take care of them, keeping them as comfortable as can be. And it'll be great! Then they'll die, and the robots just do the next thing, and the conveyor belt goes in the other direction.

That would be horrible, right? The human touch, the human contact, the human presence—it's such an important part of human life, belonging, and being connected. So the idea that the central, middle three parts of the Eightfold Path have to do with our relationships, rectifying them, caring for them, and practicing with them, is an essential part of Buddhist practice. It's part of how we become wise and liberated—to care for our ethical behavior and be attentive to it.

Our modern society is ethically complex and confusing. The levels of interconnectedness that spread out from us are more complex in this modern world than they probably have ever been in human history. What we do here in California is directly related to what's going on in sometimes very obscure places around the globe, in a way that wouldn't have been the case hundreds or thousands of years ago. Even within our society, there are complex ways in which we relate to each other, the government, caring for each other, how immigrants are treated, and how we treat people of different economic statuses, races, and ethnicities. How we learn to live together in this complex world is a profound task.

They say in Buddhism, in a wonderfully symbolic myth, that each person chooses where they get born. Before you were born, you were a disembodied thing getting ready to be born, and you looked around for your parents, saw those two, and zipped right down. This myth suggests there's a choice involved in where we get born. So guess what? You got born in such a way that you came here. This is where you are, this is your society, and this is the complex world you're in. How do you participate in it? How do you engage in it?

To think ethically, to be concerned with the impact of our behavior in this world, is not just seeing what's in front of you. It's understanding the things that ripple out, that are part of your unseen world. To care for that is an interesting part of it. And I think where it gets really alive and interesting for Buddhists is caring for our relationships. Being concerned for the welfare of the people around us and wanting to avoid causing harm is not done because it's a moral obligation or a heavy burden ("Thou shalt do this"). You do it because you're inspired that it's really for your own welfare. It's a way for you to discover how to be lighter, clearer, cleaner, and wiser. It's how you discover greater personal, psychological, and spiritual freedom.

As you do these practices around ethics, it's not a burden; you see it's a good thing. For me, growing up, I had no interest in ethics. It wasn't a concept in my mind. I didn't think about it particularly, and if I did, I probably had a little bit of a distaste for it. I kind of looked down on people who were into ethics—it felt puritanical or something. Unfortunately, my imagination was very small regarding what I could do, so I didn't really do anything about it.

But the idea of ethics and being interested in the precepts of Buddhism really came alive for me when I sat my first long retreat. I sat up to that point in Thailand for ten weeks. To my surprise, sitting and meditating for that long, I got still and concentrated. I could be quite open and sensitive, and a lot of my usual chatter, preoccupations, and concerns kind of fell away for a period of time. In that critical, beautiful simplicity of being, I felt—in the language of my body—a visceral, embodied feeling of inner purity.

This sense of inner purity and cleansing was something that was so new to me. It was coursing through my bones and veins like a field or a vibration of purity and clarity. It was kind of like I'd been dirty, took a really nice shower, and felt so clean afterwards—but it was all on the inside. It was my heart and my inside, in a way I had never experienced before. I was kind of blown away by this feeling.

Then I noticed that if I had any motivations or thoughts that were unwholesome, that inner sense of purity got contracted, darkened, and lost. I actually felt a little bit of violence towards it. So now, the idea of being ethical was not an obligation, a responsibility, or a duty. It was actually the opposite. The heaviness came from picking up these unwholesome tendencies—being angry or lustful. That's where the burden was. Keeping that sense of inner purity—that's where the lightness was, where the joy was, where the freedom was.

Rather than taking ethics as a burden—like you're a bad person and you have to do this—I would propose that for Buddhism, it's the absolute opposite. We engage in this because we have some sense of the freedom that comes with it, realizing this life is better. I don't know, I'm an old guy now, but when I was a kid, we had this common commercial on TV that said, "Blondes have more fun." And Ajahn Amaro, a Buddhist monk, wrote an article titled Monks Have More Fun. He probably knew that commercial too. But ethical people have more fun! I mean, that's the idea. That should be the principle. It's hard to always see it that way, but that's the inspiration.

These three middle parts of the Eightfold Path are Right Speech, Right Action, and Right Livelihood.

Right Speech

It begins with Right Speech. I think that's fascinating to consider. I don't really know why the Buddha chose to list that first, but I interpret it to mean that speech is maybe more important than action. Maybe more harm gets done in the world through speech. Speech is the foundation for many other things. For people who end up doing harm in the world, sometimes the harm began because of how people were speaking to each other.

Speech is a kind of a binder. Once kids grow up, their diapers no longer need to be changed, and you're no longer feeding them, the vehicle for relationship is speech. We talk to each other, and communication is important.

How do we talk in such a way that we're caring for everyone—for self and other people? How do we talk in such a way that we do not sever connections, but enhance connections? It's so easy to speak in ways that cut the connection, even with people we love and care for. We can say "no," or we can change the subject, or we say, "No, it's not like that, let me tell you." There are all kinds of subtle ways in which the actual movement of the conversation is separation—not coming closer, but actually being pulled apart.

How can we speak in such a way that we avoid the severing of connection and the distancing, and instead enhance the connection and come closer? Just that question is enough. If you carry that with you as a regular, ongoing reflection, and you start using mindfulness to see how the speech acts you're involved in impact the conversation and your relationships, you will learn a lot. Do you come closer, or do you go further away?

This applies to both the people you're close to and to strangers. Sometimes it's more clear with strangers. I've had strangers come up to me, and I've said something in reply, and as I walked away, I realized there was absolutely no connection. "Where is the train station?" "It's right down there." And I head off. Maybe I'm in a hurry. I did what they needed, I helped them out, and I can pat myself on the shoulder for doing a good deed. However, there was no connection formed. It takes the same amount of time to make a connection. If you're really there with them, you stop and take them in as a human being. They feel seen, recognized, and known, as if you're delighted to see them or appreciate them.

To really get down to what's important, Right Speech has a number of criteria to reflect on. One is to speak in ways that are honest—speak the truth. Another is to avoid harsh speech, and instead speak in kind and gentle ways. Don't speak in cruel ways; speak in compassionate and caring ways.

There's also the idea of not engaging in what is usually translated as "idle speech." This is a little bit perplexing because we don't really know what the ancient Pali word really means. Some "idle speech" connects in a good way with people and makes connections, so it can't just be all idle speech. But maybe it means trivial conversation that makes no living, valuable human connection to someone else—just filling the time and chatting about silly things in a way that actually doesn't help.

Being careful with your speech is a training. It means you're not expected to do it well yet! I think this is empowering and relieving. You don't have to hold yourself up to impossibly high standards. You're not supposed to be there yet; it's a training. As a training, you have to be interested in doing it. Where is the opportunity to train in Right Speech? Well, if you go downtown and someone asks you where the train station is, that's your opportunity. If you go to the supermarket and the checkout clerk says something to you, that's your opportunity to practice and see how it works.

Anytime you're speaking with someone, it's a training ground. I've heard some people say, "I really want to go on retreat, but I have work and family. I should go be a monastic for a while, go off to Asia, practice for a year, and come back and be happy ever after." Well, your monastery is how you speak to people! It's right there waiting for you. You don't have to go off on retreat. If you take every speech act you have as your monastery, that's your retreat. The opportunity is right there; you're speaking anyway, so take it on, be sensitive, and be aware.

Here's another interesting question to carry with you: Why are you going to say what you're about to say? Ideally, you do it beforehand, but it is useful to ask afterwards: "Why did I say that?" Don't settle for the first answer. "Why did I tell them the answer? Because they asked." That's obvious; that's just brushing off the question. Get deeper. "Oh, because I care about them, or I want to show off that I know the way."

There are some countries I've traveled in where I learned that no one would ever tell you they didn't know the way. They always point, but it might be completely the wrong way. I learned you have to ask a few people because no one would ever say, "I don't know." Sometimes we speak to show off. It takes a little bit of work to get underneath the surface of our minds to see what's really going on and what we're really trying to do. If you keep reflecting and looking, you'll learn a lot about yourself. Also, don't settle for one thing, because we can have multiple intentions and purposes in our speech. If you settle for the first answer, you're missing a great opportunity to start seeing yourself deeper and deeper.

Right Action

The fourth step of the Eightfold Path is Right Action. This is specified as being three forms of action: the action of not killing, the action of not stealing, and the action of not engaging in sexual misconduct (not harming people through our sexuality).

These are all negative statements; it's what we refrain from. For some people, refraining is not a popular thing to do, and it's not very inspiring. But if we just consider how much harm and social disruption happens through those three things—killing, stealing, and sexual abuse—it's monumental. We would live in a radically different place, and we would contribute to a radically different world, if we were really careful in these three areas.

Probably here in this room, but certainly society-wide, there are people who were not kept safe from those things. It had lifetime impacts on who they are, shaping how they see themselves and understand the world, requiring a lifetime of healing from what happened to them. To offer a world where we care for this, where people know it is a value to make a world that's safe, is a beautiful thing.

In terms of your own heart, you harm your own heart if you do those things. You close things down; you contract. The movement towards freedom—to being lighter and more open—is supported dramatically by taking a lot of care in this area. For most people here, it's not like you're going out on a Sunday afternoon killing spree. But does your life indirectly impact the death of others, the death of animals, or the death of species? Are you really living a harmless life, or does there ripple out from you into all these different areas in a world where so much is dying these days?

Right Livelihood

The final of the three ethical parts of the Eightfold Path is called Right Livelihood. I don't think they had livelihoods in the time of the Buddha like we have here—like going to vocational school to get a career. For renunciants, they had this thing called ājīva^[2], which meant a way of life. Back in ancient India, for lay people, their way of life was intimately related to the work they did to survive. So it includes work for sure, but it also includes people who are no longer working. It includes retirement, for example. Kids don't have livelihoods, but they can have right ājīva, this right way of living.

To live a right way of living in the world means you go through the world trying to avoid harm. You do not harm others through the work you do, through what you consume, or through your recreational choices. It's just how you go through the world—walking through the world with a light touch, leaving only footprints, or leaving the world a better place than you found it when someone first received you in their hands.

Conclusion

So this is the middle part of the Eightfold Path, central to the Buddha Dharma. It's not elementary. Or let's say it differently: it's elementary when it's elementary for you, it's a middle-level practice when you're there, and it's an advanced practice for an advanced practitioner. There is ethics at every step along the way, from the first contact with the practice all the way up to full awakening.

It's an ethical path; it's a path to an ethical transformation. It's a path to living a virtuous, good, helpful life for this world that we live in. It's intimately an integral part of the Buddha Dharma. If you want to become free of suffering—to have the liberation that the Four Noble Truths are about—the Eightfold Path is the way. And at the heart of the Eightfold Path are these three steps of virtuous behavior. Thank you.