Last week Ajahn Sudanto paid his monthly visit to Portland Friends of the Dhamma, along with Venerables Caganando and Thitabho. The routine on those Friday evenings begins with the customary tea time followed by meditation and a Dhamma talk. Tea is an informal event where people can converse with the monks. Sometimes people ask questions out of curiosity about, say, the monks’ routine at Pacific Hermitage. Other questions may be about particular points of practice.
At such times I’m content to sit and listen. And this is what I was doing last week when Ajahn Sudanto looked right at me and asked, “How’s your practice going, Paul? Do you have any questions?”
I replied that even though I may have questions that arise during the week, they never come to mind when I have an opportunity to ask.
Then he said, “I have a question for you. Why are you still suffering?”
Instantly the thought arose: Who let you in my head? But I realized it was question he could have asked of anyone in the room, so I didn’t take it personally. Yet he did ask the question. I did not dare speak the answer forming in my mind. Instead I rambled on about my practice, how last week it seemed as though I’d reached some new level of understanding, but this week I’d had a big setback. It seemed, I’d said, that I go through these cycles of progress and setbacks. Only in retrospect did I realize how evasive I’d been, trying to be philosophical rather than truthful. I’m good at that. Or so I think.
The simple answer to the question “Why are you still suffering?” is this: It’s because of all those other people out there! Those people who don’t understand me, who are inconsiderate, who are irresponsible, who think my ways of doing things are inferior to theirs, who don’t appreciate me, who expect more of me than I’m able to provide, who cannot see the obvious truth about things, who send text messages while driving, who think Sarah Palin is a great American, who think Barak Obama is a Muslim, who… stop. That’s enough. You wouldn’t understand, anyway.
