COVID-19 Reflections: Online Selections
COVID-19 and the Story of Reindeer and Wolves
In 1948–1949, a natural biologist was assigned by a wildlife service in Canada to live in the wild to investigate the cause of the declining reindeer population and determine whether wolves were the culprit. During this time, the biologist found that the wolves were eating small animals such as mice and hares all the time. When the reindeer migrated in herds from northern to southern Canada, the wolves would go to hunt the reindeer. The wolves avoided risking their lives against the strength of the reindeer by picking on the low-hanging fruit, the stragglers. The stragglers were those reindeer at the end of the herd that were weak and sick.
However, the population of wolves had diminished from human hunting in the last century. So there were not enough wolves to take out the weak and sick stragglers. The natural biologist postulated that the population of reindeer was declining because the reindeer that would have been picked up by the wolves due to their sickness and weaker immunity started to breed with the herd instead, so the herd’s gene pool and its immunities were getting weaker and weaker, making the herd more susceptible to viruses and bacteria.
One-third of humanity has come to a standstill for COVID-19. My grandmother shared that when the Japanese soldiers occupied Singapore, people could run from the soldiers, but there is nowhere to run from the novel coronavirus! One way we can keep the virus at bay is to organically strengthen our immunity. This reduces the number of humans that would become stragglers for the virus to infect and strengthen our herd immunity. To have a strong immunity, we need to take care of our mental, emotional, and physical well-being.
One of the central teachings of Buddha is impermanence. Even the sun has a life expectancy. Disintegration of a life form is an inevitable law of physics, but have you ever marveled at the life force of the blooming flowers and the majesty of the ancient trees? Nature is always doing its best. The lemon tree is empty again; the pomegranate tree bears fruit.
Each of us has been gifted with a similar life force. How do we flourish with Earth as nature does? Just as we care for the plants by creating the right conditions—such as the right amount of water and space for growth—we can look after ourselves. We can take this time to look deeply at our decisions on how we eat, exercise, rest, and work for well-being. If we easily succumb to stress, we have the power to adjust our ambitions, desires, and lifestyle accordingly. If we can make these well-being decisions correctly, we may realize that life has always provided for us, and we will be full of gratitude to all that has been made available to us right here, right now, and know how to use it to give back to nature, share with the people around us, and help the world.
Xinxiang Shinzy
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Suzuki Roshi wrote, “Life is like getting into a boat that’s just about to sail out to sea and sink.” And that has become my overall image in dealing with the pandemic. Rather suddenly, this real-life kong-an has brought the teachings of our practice into clear focus, because there is simply no escape. We’ve all been forced to slow down, and that has resulted, in my case, in thinking—thinking about the worldwide suffering taking place, the groundlessness of our situation, and the loss of a lifestyle we have taken for granted and lived until now. Ultimately, my own mortality and the impermanence of life itself has been reflected in my mind’s mirror, which, to paraphrase Pema Chödrön, gives rise to fear, which, disguised as Buddha nature, kicks our ass into being receptive.
This period of months of isolation has affected my practice, not in terms of sitting on the cushion more, but rather in heightening the value and preciousness of each moment. The focus of my attention has narrowed to essential activities, and I have found myself organizing the smaller details of my life,—cleaning, doing repairs, connecting virtually with others. Thanks to my practice, I have relaxed into this smaller and smaller world, isolated from the chaos of the larger world, and have simply kept moving forward, constantly asking myself as my own best friend, “What am I?” “What is this?” I have a heightened observation of—and gratitude for—each moment falling apart and coming back together. And I realize, as I set sail out to sea, by doing so I am taking refuge in the Buddha, dharma, and my virtual sangha, giving up hope of getting ground under my feet. I am waking up, as painful as it is.
Paul Poore
South Florida Zen Group
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As a freelance tour manager, my job is to bring a group of people to travel abroad. “Thanks” to the COVID-19 pandemic, there is a global lockdown, which means that my job is suspended and I have lost my livelihood. Even though I was not scared of contracting the virus, I felt so helpless and panicked that I no longer had a job. In fact, I wasn’t the only one: the people around me and the people I saw on social media all shared the same emotions.
Being a Zen practitioner of more than ten years, I asked myself how can I help myself and others in this situation? Then some teachings from our school appeared in my mind: “Good situation is bad situation; bad situation is good situation!” “What is this?” “Don’t know!” By asking “What is this?” to my helplessness and panic, I realized that they were just my thinking. I cannot actually find them within me—they were not “ME.” They were not my master! I then felt relieved. Suddenly I realized that even though I cannot work for a while, I can still survive on my savings. Then why should I panic? Instead, I should use this opportunity to apply my practice to my real life. I remembered that once, my guiding teacher, Zen Master Dae Kwan, taught us that there is no difference between good and bad situations. There is only a difference in how we handle situations. Actually, we should not label situations good or bad—we should just handle them with correct situation, correct relationship, and correct function.
Since I have no job now, I have much more time to stay home with my family. I taught them to take precautions to avoid the virus. I comforted my parents by reminding them that keeping their body and mind healthy is the best way to deal with the virus. I encouraged them to exercise together and recommended some healthy diet too. We cherished and enjoyed the time together.
I also realized that since I will not have any paid jobs for a period of time, then why not try to do some unpaid volunteer work? I then applied to Gak Su Temple, our retreat center in Hong Kong, for some volunteer work, and my request was luckily accepted. Now I am staying in Gak Su, helping with daily work like cleaning, cooking, and gardening, and also doing morning and evening practice together with my dear Hong Kong sangha family. We are now doing a one- hour kido every afternoon, dedicated to our loved ones and the global COVID-19 situation.
Thanks to COVID-19, I am now sitting on the wooden floor of Gak Su, watching the beauty of nature surrounding the temple, slowly breathing in, slowly breathing out. . . .
Nicole Wong
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My “pill” contribution:
During this pandemic, my Zen learning has inspired me to practice “avoid throwing stones to the moon,” meaning that, beyond abiding by the authorities’ recommendations, there is nothing we can do to help alleviate the situation, other than meditating.
Certainly, allowing ourselves to get trapped in the information tsunami and becoming concerned, stressed, and even afraid of the world situation does not contribute to our inner peace. So limiting our news exposure, maintaining a positive attitude, and performing our Zen practice is a good way to help the world by keeping ourselves centered and peaceful.
Thanks,
Rodrigo Rios
San Francisco Zen Center
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Practicing in the Moment
As businesses, schools, and society in general were starting to close down, I saw something interesting come out of the Buddhist community en masse—a gentle shift, a collective sigh. Instead of freaking out about all of the things we could no longer do or the closure of places we could not go to any longer, one word kept coming up again and again: retreat. Reading and hearing the word made me realize that, amid the global rancor and confusion, stillness could be found. For the first time in many years, I did not have to go anywhere, nor could I. All I could do was be in the moment, with myself and by myself.
Using this time as an opportunity for practice, not only have I had the pleasure of being able to sit in meditation every day, but I have much more fully come to realize that each and every aspect of my life is my practice. Mowing the grass, taking out the garbage, washing my hands for twenty seconds—all are an invitation to keep a clear mind moment to moment. Being able to more fully dive into the formal practice has been a great gift, but there is no greater practice than being able to fully engage and be present in every moment of our lives as they are, not as we would want them to be. As Zen Master Seung Sahn may say, that is the true meditation.
Matthew Kizior
Zen Group of Pittsburgh
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I practice in bed, in the morning, as my son sleeps beside me. I push away a pillow and face the wall. (After two months of quarantine, it’s how each new day feels.) Even with a loving partner, the days are daunting: juggling work and graduate school, working as a short-order cook, managing homeschooling and entertaining of a six-year-old. Some days, he wakes and parks stuffed animals on my lap; other times, he piles into my lap, impatient for me to be done and go downstairs. The quarantine, I worry, has been hardest on him. He has told me of dreams where he had a friend. Just the other day, he told me that I am his only friend now—a remark I have not yet shared with his father. He has many questions that begin “When the virus is over . . .” So, as I sit, I have begun to ask the great questions aloud: “Who is sitting? Who is listening?” To begin planting the seeds of don’t know and to begin that engagement in six-year-old Minor’s mind. The other day as I sat, I murmured, “What is a human being?” to which Minor shot back, “A human being is a human being!” A mother’s heart warms.
Jennifer “Sean” Chung
Maine
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Chip chip and sirens
Birds, ambulances and birds
and that’s all. New York.
Whole world in Kyol Che
billions of kitchen masters
who’s doing moktak ?
Sitting at the park
today trying a new bench
all is different
Now I get it
Secret of cats’s happiness:
look out the window
Just doing nothing
watching the days as they go
all is beautiful
Manu Garcia-Guillen
•••
When in 2017 Gye Mun Sunim JDPS announced that we would co-host the Whole World Is a Single Flower 2020 conference, all the Singapore sangha got excited about the new challenge and opportunity to serve the dharma. That began two and a half years of planning and preparation. Volunteers divided into teams were doing their job 100 percent: planning the conference days and the sightseeing trips; putting together the memorial booklet; dividing responsibilities of welcoming guests at the airport, helping people to check in to their accommodations, recruiting new volunteers, fundraising, and so on. By February this year, many things were already in place, and we were settling more and more details. Then, at first slowly, we were hearing the news about the novel coronavirus outbreak, which rapidly escalated to a worldwide pandemic. Already in late March, we were informed by the international teachers council that the WWSF 2020 conference would be canceled. Of course it was difficult not to feel some disappointment. But this situation is our great teacher as well.
It reminds me of a story that Zen Master Wu Bong used to tell about a wise rabbi who lived in a small town and was famous for strictly following a routine life. He would get up every day at the same time, pray, eat breakfast always at 7 a.m., go to lecture to the synagogue, and so on. There was a new police officer in the town who was walking one day through the city square and saw the rabbi going to the synagogue in the morning, so he said, just to start a conversation, “Good morning, Rabbi. Where are you going?” And the rabbi replied, “Good morning. I don’t know.” The police officer had heard about this rabbi’s customs, so he thought that maybe the rabbi didn’t hear his question, so he asked again, “I said, where are you going?” The rabbi replied, “I said, I don’t know.” Now the police officer thought that maybe rabbi was not taking him seriously, so he said, “I am a policeman, and if I ask, you have to tell me where are you going!” The rabbi replied “Kind sir, but I don’t know.” The policeman got angry, arrested the rabbi and put him in jail. And from behind the bars the rabbi calmly said, “You see, I didn’t know I was going to end up here.”
So if we really keep don’t-know mind, then our center is not moved by any situation. But at the same time, I would like to acknowledge our volunteers, who have put so much effort into creating the WWSF 2020 conference. Even if the worldwide sangha won’t get to experience the fruits of their hard work, bodhisattva action is without attachment to results, and their how-can-I-help-you mind is priceless.
Kogen Sunim