Work Can Cloud the Buddha Mind

By Chris La Tray, 6-08-07

I’m a (half) white, liberal/progressive/whatever American guy on the cusp of middle age, so I’d like everyone to know I’ve fulfilled my obligation to look into Buddhism. Isn’t that expected of me? Like Clinton on the bong, though, I really didn’t inhale much.

I could never be a Buddhist. There are too many words I can’t pronounce. The thing about monks not being able to touch women is a no-go for me. Much of the dogmatic stuff keeps me from getting very deep before my eyes cross and my head starts to hurt. Ultimately the path is just too foreign. Besides, my Pagan leanings have much more interesting methods of inspiring the crops to grow. One might even suggest my natural proclivities are like deadfall choking the path to Eastern enlightenment.

I still read some Buddhist stuff now and then, mainly in pursuit of mindfulness. It’s too easy to miss things when I’m not really focused on what I am doing, so I am working to improve on observing the little stuff that tends to bite me. I want to be more mindful of what is going on in my life in as many ways as possible; in my relationships, in my spiritual explorations, and in just the day to day grind of getting by in this culture. I also want to be mindful of the beauty blooming outside my window so that the work-spawned horrors erupting from my phone and computer screen don’t make me pick up a baseball bat and practice a little Old Testament-style retribution on, in lieu of fleshier objects, everything electronic I can reach.

I call my attempts to think things through and take deep breaths before getting huffy – my attempts to be mindful – “Buddha Mind.” Buddha Mind is almost a running joke in my house because I reference it so often, but I take it seriously. I use it as a centering device; sometimes even as a mantra. If something is starting to fire me up, I’ll remind myself “Buddha Mind!” to try and mellow out a little bit. A big head of blue hair doing 25 in a 45 zone? Buddha Mind to the rescue. Flight delayed 30 minutes when I only have a 45 minute connection on the other end? Buddha Mind once again. Unfortunately, it often comes a little too late, as in the farmer hollering, “Close the barn door!” as he is watching the horses thunder out of their stalls and through the neighbor’s blue ribbon rose garden. I guess I’d call that, “Shuddha Buddha Minded.”

I’ve decided a great tragedy of our hell bent, work-our-asses-off-to-afford-to-buy-throwaway-junk-and-raise-uber-offspring lifestyle is that it is turning us into a culture of total assholes. Many of us lean that way anyway, and the evolution of the world around us is merely exacerbating the problem. I can be as guilty of it as anyone, particularly when I travel. It doesn’t happen often, but I’ve had a couple little boil-overs that I’m not proud of. A rude comment to a Northwest Airlines employee who was unable to help me square away the luggage that didn’t arrive at my destination with me; the verbal altercation with a TSA employee in Boston who got huffy when I questioned their insistence that security forbade me from bringing even an empty bottle through the security station (ahem, it doesn’t) because it could potentially hold liquid; etc. In both situations we had a clash of one person stressed out by their job – pre-Buddha Mind me – colliding with others stressed over their jobs. Money, hell: I think work is the root of, if not all evil, then certainly most bad behavior! Take someone who is miserable with the job they are performing and have them interact with other folks and you have surefire potential for obnoxious interactions and bad vibes.

Last week I made trips to two different locations for work, one outside Atlanta, GA, and one outside Scranton, PA. In both places I witnessed some pretty rude behavior that was more the result of petulance than anything else. At the Georgia site I was in a facility out in the ‘burbs, but the equipment I was working with communicated back to the corporate office in Atlanta via their wide area network. No big deal, I deal with situations like that all the time. However, the IT guy in the corporate office was childlike in his passive aggressiveness. Every little problem we had that required us to engage him for assistance was met with the usual litany of “I don’t have time right now” or “I’m not available because I have to go to a meeting”, after which the guy I was working with in the local site would have to remind him of the importance of what we were doing, and that extra time was costing extra money. Ultimately in every instance the jackass did what was requested, but not without the heavy sighs that were supposed to convey to us just how badly we were putting him out.

When I arrived at the Pennsylvania facility I discovered they do not maintain a receptionist in the foyer; instead, there was a phone with a list of extensions so any visitor can directly call the person they are there to see. Again, no big deal – I encounter that all the time. I found my contact person, rang his extension and left a message that I was there, then just lingered in the foyer waiting for him to come get me. I spent a couple minutes eyeing the bad décor, the framed vendor awards on the walls and the dated photos of company-sponsored little league baseball and soccer teams. Suddenly the glass door to the inner sanctum was throw open and I was addressed by a harried woman, red-faced and blustering.

“Can I help you?”

“Well, I just called…”

“Who are you here to see?”

I didn’t know if she was going to help me or throw me out. I took a deep breath and told her whom I was calling on, what my purpose was, that I’d left a message on his phone, and that yes, I was expected. She just glowered like the Canadian guard I’d faced 20 years ago when I tried to cross the border with an expired license. I must have passed muster, because with a heavy sigh she let me in and proceeded to guide me to the guy I was after. While she was hustling me through the cubicles another office woman informed her she had a call on line 2, and her response was, “How am I supposed to take a call when I don’t even have a phone?” At that point I was all about Buddha, Jesus, Demeter, Thor, Isis and any other divine being I could think of to invoke to ensure that this harpy would have no part of the project I was there to work on. The way she was addressing me was as if I’d taken the last jelly donut from the cafeteria, and I hadn’t even stepped beyond the foyer. I don’t even like jelly donuts!

I understand stress. I understand how sometimes it is a little thing that makes you snap, when in reality it was a multitude of Big Things building up that finally made that insignificant affront, real or perceived, become the spark that lights the fuse. Everyone melts down now and then, I can accept that. But either more and more people are melting down more often – and that could very well be the case – or people just don’t care so much about being rude to others anymore.

Americans don’t get much vacation, and almost half of us don’t even take what we do get. When we aren’t working many of us are commuting, which brews up an entirely different pot of frustration. After getting home, there are mouths to feed, chores to do, errands to run, kids to deliver to soccer/cheerleading/baseball/whatever . . . the list goes on and on. To make ourselves feel good we buy big houses and big cars and enormous plasma televisions and all manner of junk that just forces us to spend that much more time on the job to pay for it.

I strive to keep my life pretty simple, my commitments to a minimum, and as much of my time focused on things that I want to do to fulfill my own interests and the real needs of my family. Now and then I make allowances for community events as well, because I think that should be on the list of priorities for a well-rounded citizen. Even so, I get pulled very thin from time to time. That’s why I am trying so hard to maintain my commitment to the ever elusive Buddha Mind, so that I don’t royally hose up something important, and so that I don’t mouth off and make some other stressed-out person’s day that much worse.

Maybe it’s too touchy-feely; I don’t listen to enough vitriolic morning radio shows to bolster my flagging manliness, perhaps, but I don’t really care. I’d rather focus on the little things. Pushing the chair back under the table when finished with dinner. Picking up after myself. Tipping the server 25%, even if it means one less pint of Moose Drool. Giving the airline representative a break about a flight delay when thunderstorms over O’Hare are really beyond her ability to control. It isn’t so tough when I put my mind to it.

Interested to see what happens when Buddha Mind meets a broken-down lawn mower? Check it out at Stumbling the Walk!