Ajahn Brahm - Don't Worry, Be Grumpy

When you visit others’ homes, do you wash the dishes for them? No! Do you vacuum their carpets and tidy up? No! Do you mow their lawn? No! And you don’t feel guilty about not doing any of these chores either, because you are a visitor, not an owner.

So when you pretend to be a visitor in your house, not an owner, then you can enjoy its beauty and tranquility. You can rest without feeling guilty. You can enjoy the home with nothing to do. You are just visiting.

Only a visitor can let go. An owner has to control.

A wealthy woman went to her meditation class one evening. Many of her neighbors had been robbed, so she told the guard at the gate to her mansion to be alert and mindful at all times.

When she returned, she discovered that her mansion had been robbed. She scolded her guard, “I told you to be mindful of burglars. You have failed me.”

“But I was mindful, ma’am,” replied the guard. “I saw the burglars going into your mansion, and I noted ‘Burglar going in. Burglar going in.’ Then I saw them coming out with all your jewelry, and I mindfully noted ‘Jewelry going out. Jewelry going out.’ Then I saw them going in again and taking out your safe, and I mindfully noted again ‘Safe being stolen. Safe being stolen.’ I was mindful, ma’am.”

Obviously, mindfulness is not enough! Had the guard been kind to his employer as well as mindful, he would have called the police. When we add kindness to mindfulness we get “kindfulness.”

A few years ago I had food poisoning. Monks of my tradition depend on almsfood, offered every day by our lay supporters. We never really know what we are eating, and we often put into our mouths something the stomach later has an argument with. An occasional stomachache is an occupational hazard for monks. But this time, it was far worse than a bout of indigestion. This was the agonizing cramps of food poisoning.

Instead of going to the hospital, which a sensible monk would have done, I used kindfulness.

I resisted the natural tendency to escape from the pain and felt the sensation as fully as I could. This is mindfulness — experiencing the feeling in the moment, as clearly as possible, without reacting. Then I added kindness. I opened the door of my heart to the pain, respecting it with emotional warmth. The mindfulness provided me with feedback. I noticed that my intestines had relaxed a little because of the kindness, and the pain was slightly less. So I continued with the kindfulness. Little by little, the pain decreased as the kindness did its job of relaxing the digestive tract. After only twenty minutes, the pain had gone, totally. I was as healthy and relaxed as if the food poisoning had never occurred.

That was full-on food poisoning. The cramps hurt like hell and made me double up in agony. But it was countered by full-on kindfulness. I have no idea what happened to the bacteria that are the cause of food poisoning, but I didn’t worry about that. The pain had gone completely. This is but one personal example of the power of kindfulness.

Kindfulness is the cause of relaxation. It brings ease to the body, to the mind, and to the world. Kindfulness allows healing to happen. So don’t just be mindful, be kindful.

Thomas (not his real name) had spent many months meditating in our monastery in Australia before returning to his home in Germany to pursue further studies. He told me this story of how kindfulness had made him twenty euros when he really needed it.

On Thomas’s first day on the campus of a German university, an ATM machine emitted a strange sound as he passed. “A type of gurgling sound,” as he described it. He imagined that the university ATM was welcoming him to campus.

From that day on, Thomas repeatedly sent thoughts of kindness to his friend, the ATM, whenever he passed it: “May your bank notes never run out,” “May your customers never hit you when they discover they have no funds,” “May you never suffer a short circuit,” and so on.

After many months, Thomas was sitting in the warm sun having his lunch within a few feet of his friend, the ATM, when he heard the familiar gurgling sound again. He turned around to see a twenty-euro note emerge from the machine!

He had been by the ATM for at least fifteen minutes and no one had come close to the machine, let alone tried to make a withdrawal. He went to the machine, took the note, and then waved it in the air to see if anyone claimed it. No one did. Thomas, the poor student, said “Danke” to his friendly ATM and pocketed the cash.

I repeatedly interrogated Thomas as to the truth of that tale. He vehemently insisted it was true so many times that I now believe him. So please be kind to ATMs, and who knows, one day they may be kind to you!

Many people try to practice meditation these days. Their biggest problem is that they cannot keep their mind still. No matter how hard they try, they are unable to stop thinking. Why?

A woman received a call one afternoon, “Hi, this is C. F. Are you free this afternoon for a cup of coffee?”

“Sure,” the woman replied.

“Good,” continued C. F. “We will go that coffee shop that I like, not the one that you prefer. You will have a short black, not one of those high-cholesterol lattes that I know you like. You will have a blueberry muffin, just like me, not one of those silly pastries that I have seen you eat so often. We will sit in a quiet corner because that is where I want to sit, not out on the street where you always go. Then we will discuss politics, which is what I like to talk about, not that spiritual mumbo jumbo that you always twitter on about. Lastly, we will stay for sixty minutes, not fifty minutes nor seventy minutes, just exactly one hour, because that is how long I want to stay.”

“Umm…” replied the woman thinking quickly, “I just remembered that I have to see my dentist this afternoon. Sorry, C. F., I can’t make it.”

Would you like to go out for a cup of coffee with someone who tells you where to go, what to eat and drink, where to sit, and what to discuss? No way! And in case you haven’t figured it out yet, C. F. stands for Control Freak.

Compare this to someone meditating. “Mind, listen up! We are going to meditate now. You are going to watch the breath, which is what I want to do, not wander off wherever you want. You are going to place your awareness on the tip of the nose, which I like to do, not outside on the street. And you are going to sit there for exactly sixty minutes, not a minute more or less.”

When you are the control freak who treats your mind like a slave, no wonder your mind always tries to escape from you. It will think of useless memories, plan something that will never happen, fantasize, or fall asleep — anything to get away from you. That is why you can’t keep still!

The same woman receives a call, “Hi! K. F. here. Would you like to come for a coffee this afternoon? Where would you like to go? What would you like to drink and eat? We’ll sit where you like, talk about your favorite topics, and stay as long as you like.”

“Actually, I have a dentist appointment this afternoon,” replies the woman. “Heck! Never mind the dentist. I’m coming to have coffee with you.” Then they have such a relaxed and enjoyable time together that they stay much longer than anyone expected. K. F. stands of course for Kindfulness Freak.

What if you meditate by treating your mind like a best friend: “Hey buddy! Do you want to meditate now? What do you want to watch? How do you want to sit? You tell me how long.” When you treat your mind with kindfulness, your mind does not want to wander off anywhere. It likes your company. You hang out together, chilling out, for far longer than you ever expected.