In Buddhism, we are guided by the ideal of a Buddha, or awakened being. One of the characteristics of a Buddha is unconditional and selfless generosity, and when your generosity is blocked, you can be sure that some part of you still needs understanding, healing or liberation. On the other hand, when you’re able to set aside your self-doubt and imagine yourself as a Buddha, when you look on other beings as if they were your children, you may find your generosity flows more naturally.
Quicklinks to Article Content:
The Ideals of Buddha and Bodhisattva
We Don’t See Ourselves as Buddhas
The Importance of How We Think of Ourselves
A Buddha’s Selfless Generosity
Imagining Yourself as a Buddha
The Generous Responses of a Buddha
Vividly Imagining What Being a Buddha Would Be Like
The Ideals of Buddha and Bodhisattva
A Buddha is an awakened being. Whether you believe any actual person has ever been a completely perfect Buddha doesn’t matter; you know from personal experience it’s possible to be more or less awakened. Our practice moves us toward greater awakening.
You also know from personal experience how a Buddha acts. Again, this isn’t about having encountered a saint, it’s about recognizing when you, or others, behave in a way that’s in accord with Reality-with-a-Capital-R. If your mind and heart are relatively free of the reactivity and compulsion of karma, you have a visceral sense, in any given situation, about what it would look like to behave as if you are inseparable from all being, and everything is precious just as it is.
The ancient Metta Sutta of the Pali Canon offers poignant descriptions of a wise and awakened being. They are straightforward and gentle in speech; morally upright; humble; contented and easily satisfied; peaceful and calm; wise and skillful. They are not proud or demanding. An enlightened person feels Metta, or goodwill, for every last being in the universe, saying, “Even as a mother protects with her life her child, her only child, so one should cherish all living beings.”[i]
In Mahayana Buddhism, we add to this the Bodhisattva aspiration to remain engaged in this world until every other being is also freed from suffering. Zen Master Dogen reminds us that a Bodhisattva, concerned with the welfare of all beings, practices unconditional giving. They offer kind speech, speaking to beings as if they were babies. They devote themselves to beneficial action, considering both the immediate and long-term welfare of others. They practice seeing themselves in the same boat with all beings, or seeing self and others as one.[ii] (See Episode 105 – Dogen’s Shishobo: The Four Ways Bodhisattvas Embrace Living Beings)
Clearly, Buddhas and Bodhisattvas are the embodiment of compassion and generosity. They are the opposite of selfish. In practice, we approach the behavior of Buddhas and Bodhisattvas in two ways. First, we do our best to change our behavior, making a conscious effort to be less self-centered and more kind, patient, and generous. Second, we work on our insight, trying to awaken to our own Buddha-nature and see in what way self and other truly are one. When we see the truth, compassion and generosity flow naturally. Compassion becomes like a hand reaching for a pillow in the night – no giver and no receiver, just a flow of care.
In this episode, I want to describe a third way you can work on behaving more like a Buddha: Imagining yourself as a Buddha to unblock your natural compassion and generosity. Ultimately, you can’t really separate this approach from the ones I mentioned above, but what I’m pointing toward is a playful and creative attempt to reframe your sense of yourself and ask how you would respond to living beings if you really were a Buddha.
Note: For the purposes of this discussion, I will talk about imagining yourself as a Buddha instead of as a Bodhisattva, because the term “Bodhisattva” can refer both to archetypal ideals and to ordinary folks like you and me who are practicing diligently but are lifetimes away from perfection. When you do this imaginative practice, it’s best to embrace the highest ideal you can think of.
We Don’t See Ourselves as Buddhas
Before I get to how you can imagine yourself as a Buddha and unblock your natural generosity, let me talk about how our generosity is often blocked because we don’t see ourselves as Buddhas, or as anything approaching such complete and well-resourced beings.
You may or may not be aware that the vast majority of people (as in, almost all, or maybe even all) feel emotionally incomplete and unfulfilled. (If you’re a therapist, you probably know this.) Almost everyone you meet is suffering. Some more than others, but most are suffering very significantly – to the extent that it interferes with their relationships with almost everyone, including themselves.
What do I mean by incomplete and unfulfilled? At some point when we were children, we experienced a lack of care and responsiveness from the people around us. Even if our parents were kind and well-adjusted and did the very best they could, at some point they inevitably failed to provide us with everything we needed to grow, thrive, and see ourselves as Buddhas.
In developmental psychology, there are terms for what helps a child develop a healthy sense of themselves: Mirroring, Idealization, and Twinship.[iii] Mirroring involves a parent or other supportive person communicating to the child – through words or actions – that the child is seen and appreciated, that the existence of the child, just as they are, brings joy to the mirroring person. Idealization is offering a child something stable and noble to rely on – a set of embodied values and ways of behaving that help the child make sense of the world and gives them something to guide their own behavior. Twinship is showing the child that they are not fundamentally different or isolated from others – that their internal experience is understood and shared.
Most of us, at some level, are wounded or coping with underdeveloped parts of ourselves. Many people have experienced trauma, including the absence of Mirroring, Idealization, or Twinship in their early life. In fact, many people have experienced exactly the opposite: Deliberate cruelty, debilitating instability, and tragic isolation. Even if our parents did a decent job, we may have encountered other people (including other children) who managed to leave us with the sense that we are unlovable, or that love is conditional based on a certain set of behaviors. Many people grow up feeling insecure, socially and existentially. They feel groundless and worry that life is ultimately meaningless. People are frequently wary of showing anyone what they truly think and feel out of fear of rejection. Most of us find it challenging to truly relax around other people and let ourselves be seen, known, and relied on.
I have spent over ten years working with students as a Zen teacher and have practiced closely with Sangha for thirty years. I have been surprised and deeply moved by how many people are suffering from a sense of inadequacy, social anxiety, shame, or alienation. So many of us are convinced we never truly belong anywhere. We’re convinced that no matter what others say, we’re always on the verge of being rejected. This emotional incompleteness manifests very differently for different people. Some are obviously shy, anxious, withdrawn, or hesitant. Others – with inner wounding just as deep – cover their sense of vulnerability with arrogance, boldness, or aggression.
The list of the various forms of human neuroses, traumas, grievances, and handicaps is endless. Even if you think of yourself as a fairly happy and well-adjusted person, I’m willing to bet that you don’t have the boundless, selfless, generous, and contented heart of a Buddha. I know I don’t. I had a pretty close to ideal childhood, but I had my own sense of incompleteness and lack of fulfillment. I ended up with a sense that I needed to meet certain standards of behavior or competence to be worthy. I needed to be “winner” in the game of life. I had a sense that if I didn’t manage to learn the obscure social dance that would attract the interest or affection of others, I would end up completely ignored and alone. I felt I needed to hide my sincerity behind sarcasm so no one could demolish my emotional well-being with derision.
I don’t point out the pervasive woundedness of humankind to be negative, just to be realistic. If there’s any person or situation which makes you want to shut down, run away, lash out, cling, dominate, or hide, that means there is still something within you that needs understanding, healing, and liberation. Buddha behavior is enlightened behavior, so when we find we aren’t acting like Buddhas, we are not yet enlightened.
Our emotional incompleteness leads to a sense of lack. We may imagine that over many lifetimes we can work on ourselves and reach the state of a Buddha. Then we would feel complete and fulfilled. Then we would be sure that we were good and abundant. We would know we were admirable and worthy. We would be so secure in ourselves that we would no longer be vulnerable to judgment, rejection, aggression, or exploitation. We could stop worrying about ourselves and turn outwards and start taking care of others. Once we were certifiable Buddhas, we would naturally offer support and assistance because we’d know we were in a position to benefit those who are in need.
The Importance of How We Think of Ourselves
Part of our practice is to work on understanding ourselves, healing our emotional wounds, and letting go of attachments. We meditate, study the Dharma, work with the precepts, and maybe go to therapy or work with a Zen teacher. Gradually, we can become a little more Buddha-like – a little less self-absorbed, a little more confident and generous. This gradual work is essential, but it’s only part of our practice. The other part is awakening to how you are already a Buddha.
The funny thing is, you have probably already experienced a situation in which you act like a Buddha, more or less. Think of a situation in which you are the one with the know-how, experience, authority, or resources. You are responsible for the well-being of those around you, or at least you know that you can be of benefit to them. Maybe you are the leader of a team at work. Maybe you are a parent. Maybe you are a teacher or a nurse who confidently takes care of your charges. Maybe you are a good cook and feel great satisfaction when you see people enjoying what you have made. Maybe you care lovingly and tirelessly for an aging pet.
What characterizes these situations in which you naturally act like a Buddha? It doesn’t involve you consciously thinking you’re special – that you want to benefit the poor beings around you who are in need and therefore lesser than you are. What characterizes these situations of natural Buddha-activity is the way you think of yourself in relation to those around you. Because of the conditions, you feel competent and responsible. You know you have something valuable to offer. You aren’t afraid of your offering being rejected. You are comfortable in your role and therefore relatively free from self-consciousness. You are just one part of a situation, a network of relationships, so what ends up happening isn’t all about you.
Isn’t that fascinating? I noticed long ago how easy it is to be gracious, attentive, generous, understanding, humble, open, and kind when I’m in the role of teacher at my Zen center. I’m not saying I’m perfect, of course – I’m sure there are many situations where I’m not offering what the person in front of me really wants or needs, or where my karma is rubbing someone the wrong way. However, I know the state of my own mind and heart as I function as a teacher. I assume everyone at the Zen center would enjoy talking with me. I assume they will appreciate my presence and attention. I trust the Zen tradition and the structure of the Sangha to channel my energy and benefit people. I am delighted at each person who walks through the door, and I think I show it (at least I hope I do).
I am happy to say that my conduct and sense of myself at places other than the Zen center – including completely non-Zen settings – is gradually becoming more similar to what it looks and feels like when I’m in the Zen teacher role. However, it’s definitely not as easy. In social situations I can still find myself thinking, “Does this person really even want to be with me? Am I interesting enough? Funny enough? Do I have enough to contribute to the conversation?” Even with family I may find myself wondering whether I really belong, whether I really bring joy to these other beings. It’s not uncommon for me to feel awkward in social situations outside of my own Sangha, like I’m a little too weird to fit in and everyone would be somewhat relieved if I wasn’t there. Fortunately, over time I’ve become able to notice myself thinking these things and not necessarily believe they reflect the reality of the situation.
Sadly, our self-doubt is not only painful, it blocks our natural generosity. If we see ourselves as lacking, it’s not surprising that we hold back from giving, sharing of ourselves, letting ourselves be seen and known, offering kind words, or encouraging or helping others. Why do you care what I think? Why would you want what I have to give? And when I’m put on the defensive by an antagonistic world, what do I have to give, anyway?
A Buddha’s Selfless Generosity
The sad but wonderful irony is that a Buddha’s innocent, agenda-free generosity almost always melts the hearts of living beings. I know this from direct experience. Almost 30 years ago now, I met a Dharma sister who has been a dear friend over the whole of that time. I was immediately drawn to her, sensing that we had a lot in common. When she showed up at the Zen center I would go over and hug her and start up an intimate conversation with her as if we were best buddies.
I had no idea that, at first, my friend was quite astonished by my behavior and even made a little uncomfortable by it. It turned out she didn’t have that sense of immediate camaraderie that I did, and at first was surprised I even remembered her name or anticipated her return. It didn’t take long for us to form a real friendship, but to be honest, if I had known my friend’s initial ambivalence, I would have shut down my warm approach in a heartbeat. Isn’t that sad? A precious friendship might never have taken shape. I would have been too afraid of rejection, too proud to be putting myself out there without an equal and opposite response from another.
What if we all approached each other like I approached my friend, with the innocent warmth and enthusiasm of a child who has received plenty of Mirroring, Idealization, and Twinship? What if, when we made our loving offering and someone responded with ambivalence or even antagonism, we responded to their woundedness with compassion instead of shutting down and withdrawing?
For example, imagine you were determined to establish a meaningful, trusting connection with a small child. If they were shy or disinterested, even defensive or aggressive, hopefully you wouldn’t go off in a huff, nursing your hurt feelings or resentment. You would do your best to set aside any reactivity you experienced, and just stick around, observing, trying different things to get through to the child. Why? Because you’re the adult, you have a greater capacity and understanding, and you know the child will benefit from love and attention. Your natural generosity wouldn’t get blocked by self-doubt because you’re dealing with a small child who lacks the stature and experience to shake your self-esteem. Facing an adult who is shy, disinterested, defensive, or aggressive, though? That’s usually a very different story, especially if it’s someone you know.
Imagining Yourself as a Buddha
Imagine you were raised like the Dalai Lama of Tibet. From the beginning, you were told you were special, that you were literally the reincarnation of the Bodhisattva of compassion. People around you revered you – not primarily for your accomplishments or characteristics in this lifetime – they revered from early in your childhood – but because they sincerely believed that you had the essence of pure compassion within you. When you were naughty or selfish, your teachers patiently responded with gentle discipline, encouraging you to embody your true nature. You received guidance and teaching to give meaning and purpose to your life.
What would you be like? Is it any wonder that the Dalai Lama is such a gracious, joyous, generous person?
What if you tried to think of yourself as a Buddha? Imagine you no longer have to worry about your neediness, your inadequacy, your shame or flaws. You know beyond doubt that you are loveable and in possession of inexhaustible resources. You are surrounded by suffering beings (whether they admit it or not) and your acts of kindness and generosity, no matter how small, are a balm to their souls.
Most importantly, all you need to do is offer other beings is Mirroring, Idealization, and Twinship. Looking at beings, you would communicate, verbally or otherwise: I see you, and I see the Buddha in you, just as you are. You don’t need to conform or fulfill any set of expectations for me to see the Buddha in you. Through my own direct experience, I have verified a path of practice that can lead to peace and liberation. There are different paths in this world for different kinds of people, but I can offer you the deep and abiding faith that there are paths, and that a joyous life is possible. And no matter how you feel, I am not ultimately different from you.
A Buddha doesn’t look down on the beings they might be benefitting. They don’t see a separation between themselves and beings, compassion being like reaching for a pillow in the night. To think or act like a Buddha doesn’t mean having to puff ourselves up, lay claim to more spiritual insight than we really have, or think of ourselves as superior to others. All it requires is that we step out of the mindset of emotional lack into one of emotional abundance.
From the point of view of emotional lack, of incompleteness, we fear that a Buddha’s generosity will further impoverish us, or make us vulnerable to exploitation, betrayal, judgment, or rejection. When we are able to adopt the attitude of a Buddha, we transform ourselves and the world.
The Generous Responses of a Buddha
For example, when we encounter an obnoxious, arrogant, dominating person, we may fear that responding to them with patience and kindness will encourage them or empower them. We may lose out to them, or they may take or defile what is important to us! If we maintain a Buddha’s clarity, though, we set appropriate boundaries. We’re not just making a fearful attempt to appease someone. Our firm patience, kindness, and honesty will be the only thing that will get through the dominating person’s defenses (if anything does). A Buddha is deeply confident; they know that arrogance and aggressiveness is the sign of delusion and suffering, and they will not be shaken by whatever an obnoxious person throws at them – not at the core of their being, anyway, which is what really matters.
When we encounter a needy person, we may fear that responding with generosity will encourage co-dependence. However, a Buddha responds from deep intuition, not based on a set of ideas or standards. They don’t refuse to give because they might be asked to give tomorrow or asked to give too much. They trust themselves to know whether something should be given this moment, or not. They know it would be folly to give so much that it would damage their own wellbeing or that of people for whom they are responsible, but they don’t block their generosity out of fear of a state of future lack that may never come. Even a Buddha’s “No” can be an act of generosity, when they look into the eyes of a suffering being as they say it. Because they are confident in their own goodness, a Buddha knows that Mirroring is a precious gift they can always offer.
When we meet someone who is mired in depression, despair, addiction, mental illness, or self-destructive behavior, we may worry about getting sucked into their negative drama, or getting caught up trying to fix their situation – an effort that has a very small likelihood of success. How would a Buddha respond to such a person? Human relationships are messy, and a Buddha is just an awakened human being, not omniscient or omnipotent. It’s not that a Buddha would be able to offer the perfect word or action, but they would trust their deeper nature to respond in each situation with as much generosity and compassion and possible. They would also trust their own intuition about boundaries and the need for people to take responsibility for their own karma.
What about when we encounter a run-of-the-mill unskillful person who talks too much, talks too little, or mansplains? Someone who makes promises they can’t keep, indulges anger, or sometimes displays cruelty when they’re upset? A person who often seems insensitive, bossy, or judgmental? Someone who clings to conspiracy theories or offensive political views, or withholds their love when they don’t get their way? Someone who is arrogant, whiny, ungenerous, or high maintenance?
Can you respond to the unskillful person as a Buddha would, as if such a person were your only child? You would be the adult with the experience, strength, perspective, capacity, and confidence. They would be the child – underdeveloped, insecure, in need of Mirroring, Idealization, and Twinship. Would you help them change their behavior by judging them, rejecting them, avoiding them, or berating them? Or would you remain in quiet, curious, patient relationship with them, attending to them, listening, and asking, “What is really going on with this person? Clearly, they are suffering at some level. What is needed here?” If the unskillful person was your only child, hopefully you would not see them as inferior simply because they still were in need of growth or healing.
Of course, as people age, we expect more and more of them, until we become very judgmental and uncharitable about their flaws and shortcomings. A Buddha doesn’t put an upper age limit on generosity of spirit, though. They relate to all beings as they would to a child, meaning they see the potential even in difficult adults, and never write them off as irredeemable.
Vividly Imagining What Being a Buddha Would Be Like
It’s very important that we not set ourselves in opposition to the ideal of Buddha. If we do that, we’ll only find ourselves wanting, unless we’re caught in the delusion of narcissism. The practice of imagining yourself as a Buddha is also not about memorizing a list of ways a Buddha should act. Instead, it’s about imagining yourself as complete, expansive, unconditionally worthy, and capable of much more than you usually think. It’s about trying to vividly imagine what it would feel like to be kind of being that Buddhism says you already are. It’s about taking a leap of faith and unconditionally offering kindness, Mirroring, and Twinship to someone you encounter as if you’re the Dalai Lama and the other person is going to glow with joy for the rest of the day after their interaction with you. Because – even if they don’t show it – a small and sincere Buddha-offering does warm people’s hearts.
Imagining yourself as a Buddha also invites you to see yourself as capable and resourced when you encounter difficult people. I hesitate to say you can see yourself as “above” the other person, as that invites judgment and comparison, but it’s completely legitimate to say to yourself, “I perceive this person as acting unskillfully. If they are acting unskillfully, it means they are suffering. I do not need to get pulled down into their suffering. I may or may not be able to help them, but I can sincerely wish for their wellbeing and hope for them to be liberated.”
What’s most challenging is the way difficult people cause us to doubt ourselves, thereby blocking our generosity. Their childishness brings out our childishness, and all manner of conflicts and dysfunctional relationships ensue. How wonderful if, instead, we can recognize childishness and respond to it with the generosity, kindness, and patience of a Buddha. When we manage to do this, when doing so flows from the truth of our Buddha-nature and not just from the effort of our small self, we tap into an abundance that is not limited to or possessed by us. It is the power of generosity itself. As Zen master Dogen says:
The mind of a sentient being is difficult to change. Keep on changing the minds of sentient beings, from the moment that you offer one valuable, to the moment that they attain the way. This should be initiated by giving. Thus, giving is the first of the six [perfections].
Mind is beyond measure. Things given are beyond measure. And yet, in giving, mind transforms the gift and the gift transforms mind.[iv]
Endnotes
[i] “Karaniya Metta Sutta: The Buddha’s Words on Loving-Kindness” (Sn 1.8), translated from the Pali by The Amaravati Sangha. Access to Insight (BCBS Edition), 2 November 2013, http://www.accesstoinsight.org/tipitaka/kn/snp/snp.1.08.amar.html .
[ii] “Bodaisatta Shishobo,” in Dogen, Zen Master. Kaz Tanahashi, ed. Treasury of the True Dharma Eye: Zen Master Dogen’s Shobo Genzo. Shambhala. Kindle Edition.
[iii] Kinst, Daijaku. Trust, Realization, and Self in the Soto Zen Practice. Berkeley, CA: Institute of Buddhist Studies, 2015.
[iv] “Bodaisatta Shishobo,” in Dogen, Zen Master. Kaz Tanahashi, ed. Treasury of the True Dharma Eye: Zen Master Dogen’s Shobo Genzo. Shambhala. Kindle Edition.
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