Boleh Tahan ~ A GIFT OF TEARS
NOT LONG AGO, I heard
something on the radio: “Happiness consists
in doing what you like and liking what you do.”
Of course, it didn’t mean that we should do
just whatever we like, regardless of the rights and
feelings of others, but that we should identify what
we would really like to do, and strive to do it. Not
many of us, it seems, ever manage to do this, which
is a pity, as we have more opportunities for it than
most of us realize.
My search—the search for diamonds—is
often frustrating but also very rewarding. Needless
to say, I don’t find diamonds every day, but
I know they are there, deep inside people, and when
I’m able to indicate them to their ‘owners’,
I feel fulfilled, and all my frustration pales in
comparison to the success; in fact, the frustration
validates the success. The robes I wear allow me access
to people that I otherwise would not have, and let
me touch them, one here, and one there. These days,
it is known as ‘job satisfaction’, and
although there are setbacks and periods when I think
I’m wasting my time and had better quit, I get
enough of it to keep me going.
“Our son is lazy”, the man said,
“and doesn’t like to study. When he comes
home from school, he goes into his room and turns
on his music, but leaves his homework until the last
minute instead of doing it first and getting it over
with.”
“His grades are poor because of it”,
said his wife; “and we are afraid he’ll
fail his exams. He is our only son, and we have high
hopes for him and would like him to become a doctor.
We are not rich, so must make sacrifices to help him
succeed. But he won’t listen, and we don’t
know what to do.”
They had come to enlist my help in what they
perceived to be a problem. But I had met their son
several times at the Buddhist Society where he was
active, and come to know him as an honest boy who
was willing to help others, not a silly boy who spent
his time hanging around the streets in bad company;
I told his parents so.
“You are lucky to have a son like this”,
I said, “even if he is not a brilliant student.
Not everyone is good academically, and some who are,
aren’t good otherwise. Maybe you are placing
too much emphasis on academic success, and disregarding
other forms of success. Would you rather have him
good academically but poor socially, ambitious for
himself to the detriment of others, as is often so?
Of course, it would be better if he could be successful
all round, but if he cannot—and how many can?—you
must love and support him—and take joy in him
being your son—anyway. Support him and love
him, but do not try to force him into something that
he has no aptitude for. He knows the importance of
study, I’m sure—how can he not, when it
is being rammed down his throat all the time? He is
already under terrible pressure from the education
system and the crazy competitiveness among students,
without you adding more to the burden; the pressure
on kids these days is so great that some cannot stand
it and opt out by committing suicide. If you try to
force him, it will only make him feel miserable and
want to rebel. He needs your support and approval,
however he is. Perhaps you should consult him about
things instead of feeling that you know what is best
for him; maybe you do know what is best for him, but
he should still be treated responsibly and consulted,
as it is his life, not yours. It is vitally important
for you to see this. It is not right to compare your
son with others’ sons, for they are they and
he is he. And while it might be true that he can do
better—it is true, and not just in his case,
either, but in everyone’s case, yours and mine
included—he could also do worse.
“A flower opens in its own good time;
if you force it to open, you will destroy it, and
then regret it. When you married and planned a family,
you did not place an order specifying what kind of
children you would like, did you? And you had no way
of knowing what kind of children would come through
and how they’d turn out; was it not a tremendous
gamble? There are lots of well educated people—the
greatest criminals are well educated; that is how
they can commit their crimes and get away with it!—who
don’t give a damn about others as long as they
succeed and achieve their ambitions.
“You must also be clear in your minds
about why you want him to excel in his studies. It
should not be in order to hold him up later as “Our
son, the doctor”, as that will merely be an
ego-trip, like showing off a pedigree dog or horse.
You should just be proud of him as “Our son.”
If he has the inclination to become a doctor himself,
well and good, but if not, and you pressure him to
pursue that line, his heart will probably not be in
it, and he will become one of the mediocre doctors
that the world has already far too many of. If you
really love him and want him to be happy, help him
to find what he would like to do with his life.”
They listened patiently and didn’t
object to what I had said. But to put their minds
more at ease, I assured them I would have a word with
their son.
He came to me the next day, knowing that
his parents had been to see me and why, so was somewhat
prepared for what I would say. What he expected to
hear from me I don’t know, but I began by telling
him what his parents and I had said to each other
the day before, and added that my words should not
be taken as an endorsement of laziness. I emphasized
that his parents loved and cared for him, and were
concerned that he would waste his opportunities, and
for his own sake, he should settle down to his studies.
He responded to my words so: “I know
they love me, and I love them, too, but I’m
just not so good at studying as they want me to be.
They always compare me with others, saying, ‘Look
at so-and-so: how well he does in school. Why can’t
you be like him?’ It hurts and makes me feel
so bad, as if I’ve let them down or betrayed
them. I know it’s important to study, and I
do what I can, but it’s just not good enough
for them. They don’t understand me.”
His eyes had filled with tears as he said
this, and when he could hold them back no longer,
they rolled down his cheeks. I said nothing about
this, so as not to embarrass him, and continued talking
as if I hadn’t noticed. But really, I felt honored
that he trusted me enough to weep before me, when
he probably would not—could not—have done
so with even his best friend. I took his tears as
a gift, and far from considering them a sign of weakness,
saw them as a sign of courage. I gave him my ears,
and he gave me his tears, and I’ve told his
story here for others who are under similar pressure
to conform and perform to the standards and expectations
of others. I want to encourage them to understand
both themselves and others. Actually, as I often say,
I feel children have more responsibility to understand
their parents than their parents have to understand
them, knowing, as I say it, that it imposes another
burden on young people, but one that I think they
can and must learn to bear. Moreover, by putting it
like this, it provides them with a different way of
looking at their situation. And why do I say it? Because
there is so much new information now—more than
there has ever been throughout history—that
most older people will never come to terms with, while
the young are born into it and absorb it naturally.
This is the way of Nature: each generation takes over
from the preceding one, and, in turn, must pass things
to those who follow. There is no shame in recognizing
and accepting that this is the way it has always been
and always will be.
A woman once came to see me and told me she
had been having nightmares, and asked if I could help
her.
“When did they begin?” I asked.
“About six months ago”, she replied.
“Can you think what might have caused
them?”
“My daughter”, she said.
“Tell me more”, I probed.
“Well, she is eighteen now, and is
in the habit of coming home late from school, and
instead of doing her homework, she goes out with her
friends whenever she likes, without telling me where
she is going”.
“Have you told her that her behavior
is causing you nightmares?” I asked.
“No”, she said.
“Why not?”
“Because she wouldn’t listen
to me; she never does”.
“Do you scold her?”
“Sometimes, of course. It’s hard
not to”.
I asked her if she knew what was a bird’s
nest, and she said everyone knows that. “But
what is a bird’s nest?” I persisted.
“The home of the bird”, she replied.
“No, it’s not; birds don’t
have homes. A nest is a nursery where the young birds
are raised after hatching from the eggs, and when
they are old enough to fly and fend for themselves,
they leave the nest and go; they don’t stay
there forever.
“Likewise with young people”,
I went on; “they must also leave the nest and
go, and in learning how to stand on their own feet
and make the break from their parents, they need all
the understanding and help they can get, as it is
seldom easy. You did it, but perhaps you don’t
remember it now, as you are in the same position that
your mother was then, and the immediate situation
often obscures the past. Do you think it was easy
for her to let go of you after giving birth to you
and raising you for so many years? She loved you just
as you love your daughter, and if life continues in
the same way, your daughter will love her children
in turn. Why don’t you talk with her about this,
and let her know you are with instead of against her?
Maybe it will make a lot of difference, while scolding
might only alienate her further. I offer you this
as an alternative; anything’s worth a try when
so much is at stake, no?”
I was 18 when I left home to set out on my
travels. I thought I was grown up and knew everything
(something common in youth). Looking back on it now,
I see I was so young and knew almost nothing, but
it was where I had to begin. It was hard, and if I
had known what was ahead of me, I don’t think
I could have gone. But what would have happened if
I had stayed in the warmth and security of home? Would
I have found what I think I have found? Discovery—finding
that we have wings and can fly—is not easy and
pain free. I was lucky, however, in that my parents
supported me and never opposed me, even though they
could not understand what I was doing and maybe didn’t
agree; I am grateful to them for this and many other
things; it made the going easier, and led me, eventually,
to the joy I experience when I see that I’m
able to touch others in ways that make a difference.
That’s job satisfaction!
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