“Aware of the suffering caused by the destruction of life, I am committed to cultivating the insight of interbeing and compassion and learning ways to protect the lives of people, animals, plants, and minerals. I am determined not to kill, not to let others kill, and not to support any act of killing in the world, in my thinking, or in my way of life. Seeing that harmful actions arise from anger, fear, greed, and intolerance, which in turn come from dualistic and discriminative thinking, I will cultivate openness, non-discrimination, and non-attachment to views in order to transform violence, fanaticism, and dogmatism in myself and in the world.”
— Reverence for Life, from the Plum Village Five Mindfulness Trainings
The Buddha taught the way of non-harm, of reverence for life. This is a fundamental teaching, the first precept.
The Buddha and Angulimala, an unlikely pairing, show us the way. Angulimala, who was a thief and a murderer, slaughtered 999 people and cut off and wore their fingers in wreaths around his neck. He was relentless in his pursuit of violence. The Buddha was called in to stop further carnage, and it is said that Angulimala chased after the Buddha calling out to him to stop so he could kill him too, but he failed to catch up. The Buddha turned around and directly addressing Angulimala said:
I have stopped, Angulimala,
once and for all,
having cast off violence
toward all living beings.
You, though,
are unrestrained toward beings.
That’s how I have stopped
and you haven’t.
Upon hearing the Buddha’s words, Angulimala, the least likely person to walk the path of peace was transformed. The teaching of this story lies in the possibility of forgiveness, redemption, and the commitment to stop the cycles of harm. If an individual so far gone down a dark path could be redeemed, this points to the potential in each of us, in our distraught world, to be redeemed. What will it take?
Another story, this time from our contemporary lives, also illustrates the teaching of non-harm. Last spring, in a patch of wild woods by the Charles River, I encouraged a gaggle of elementary students to observe birds, trees, and insects. However, a child in my group began to run free with a stick hitting the barks of trees. In this madness, he bumped into another child, knocking over her notebook, pencil, and pencil sharpener. I looked down to see her crouched over the grass, meticulously picking something up from the ground. “Stop! Luna, what are you doing? That’s trash. Let it be.” Firm, eyes blazing, unmoving in her determination and resolve, “Yes! Exactly, it’s trash.” Small fingers continued to collect the shards of pencil shavings off each delicate blade of grass.
An unlikely peaceworker in our midst. Not interested in hitting back the child who knocked over her things. A seven-year-old Bodhisattva who speaks truth to power, protects the earth, and does the work of non-harm.
When things fall apart, we can follow her example, be peacemakers, and hold the intention that a kinder, more just, connected future will emerge, starting with us.