The nature of morality
Precepts recipients in 2026 situated the individual precepts within a larger framework of morality and considered how we think about morality in
North America.
We have to try to cure our faults by attention and not by will.
-- Simone Weil
North America.
We have to try to cure our faults by attention and not by will.
-- Simone Weil
Morality
Morality is the sense that we have some responsibility to and for other beings -- and we might ask: where does that come from, because selfishness is a whole lot easier! The short answer is that the basis of our ethical system is a deep understanding of interconnection, and the reality that all beings want well being and to be free from suffering. Our practice doesn’t point to doing things because they’re objectively “right” and not doing other things because they’re objectively “wrong.” The determining factors are our motivation and whether the outcome of our action creates harm for others or supports their wellbeing.
We choose to perpetuate suffering because short term gratification is powerful. Gratification may be physical, emotional or social, things like stress relief, comfort, or sensory pleasure, some means of getting a dopamine hit or temporary relief from our emotional discomfort (suffering). We're not good at calculating the long term benefit of ethical or healthy behavior because the mechanics of the brain favor short term comfort over long term benefits. However, we may also have deeply held habits, social pressures and high levels of stress that push us toward unskillful behavior. When we’re feeling anxious, we like well-worn routines that feel safe and convenient, whether or not they’re skillful, like eating a pint of ice cream rather than starting an exercise regimen. Not only are the activities themselves more comfortable, but repeating them creates habitual neural pathways that make it easier to fall back into automatic responses to what we encounter.
One reason we can have a hard time delaying our gratification for a larger good is that we feel fairly disconnected from our future selves, or from our universal selves. The small self that’s here now feels more real than the selves we're going to be next year or the self that isn’t separate from all beings. Most of the time, universal self is a nice idea for us, but it’s just an idea, even if we subject it to a fair amount of intellectual discernment. Embodying the reality of the universal self is a real challenge.
We choose to perpetuate suffering because short term gratification is powerful. Gratification may be physical, emotional or social, things like stress relief, comfort, or sensory pleasure, some means of getting a dopamine hit or temporary relief from our emotional discomfort (suffering). We're not good at calculating the long term benefit of ethical or healthy behavior because the mechanics of the brain favor short term comfort over long term benefits. However, we may also have deeply held habits, social pressures and high levels of stress that push us toward unskillful behavior. When we’re feeling anxious, we like well-worn routines that feel safe and convenient, whether or not they’re skillful, like eating a pint of ice cream rather than starting an exercise regimen. Not only are the activities themselves more comfortable, but repeating them creates habitual neural pathways that make it easier to fall back into automatic responses to what we encounter.
One reason we can have a hard time delaying our gratification for a larger good is that we feel fairly disconnected from our future selves, or from our universal selves. The small self that’s here now feels more real than the selves we're going to be next year or the self that isn’t separate from all beings. Most of the time, universal self is a nice idea for us, but it’s just an idea, even if we subject it to a fair amount of intellectual discernment. Embodying the reality of the universal self is a real challenge.
Interconnection
If we accept that interconnection is the basis of our morality, including precepts, then we need to understand what it is. When we encounter the word, we might get a mental image of Tinkertoys, nodes of some kind connected by sticks or threads. It implies that there are two or more discrete things that are connected by something else. A more helpful way to think about interconnection is that nothing exists in isolation. Objects, events, beings, ideas, whatever – everything is part of a larger, dynamic, integrated whole. If you’re a systems thinker, that sounds like rationality and logic and diagrams. If you’re an idealist, that may sound more like love and support and relationships. Both are fine, but however we “think” about interconnection, we’re limiting it. We can’t picture real interconnection, because it’s not just about things.
A moment ago we saw that everything is part of a larger, dynamic, integrated whole. The key word there is dynamic – there aren’t really static things, just what we might call a flow of experience. Becoming is happening all the time because causes and conditions are constantly changing. As soon as we grab something and try to connect it to something else, it’s gone. It’s changed, and the connection has changed. We can take a provisional freeze-frame picture in our heads of an interconnected universe, but . . . !
Nonetheless, there are some concrete examples we can consider to try to understand the basic idea. In the natural world, we have food chains, global climate systems and various dependencies in which a change in one component affects the rest of the ecosystem. In society we have social networks, economic systems and cultural expressions where one actions or idea spreads through the network of those relationships and results in massive change. In religious practice, we learn that the boundaries between the self and what’s around it are fluid, and it shifts our understanding about our place in the universe and our responsibilities to others.
Another way to consider interconnection is mutual dependency. We might be able to accept that we’re connected to an external world, but we really like to be self sufficient, so accepting that we’re completely dependent is hard. We might rather be arrogant and deny that we need or receive anything from anywhere, because we see dependency as vulnerability or weakness, when in fact it’s just the nature of reality, not a personal failing. If we fail to appreciate mutual dependency and acknowledge our own vulnerability, then it’s hard to cultivate compassion and do the bodhisattva work of ameliorating suffering. We can hear the cries of the world and decide that those who are suffering are just weak and need to get themselves together, that there’s nothing we need to do and it’s not our problem.
As useful as those concrete examples are, there’s a pitfall here: the human tendency to trade one idea for another. OK, so the separate self is just an illusion, and apparently I’m supposed to leave it behind, so instead I’ll attach to the idea of the flow of experience, or mutual dependency. Of course, it’s not possible to attach to process, which is all that this surrounding environment really is. Interconnection is not a static spider web of stuff with you stuck on one of the threads. It’s more like being in the middle of one of those kaleidoscope screen savers with everything flowing all the time.
A moment ago we saw that everything is part of a larger, dynamic, integrated whole. The key word there is dynamic – there aren’t really static things, just what we might call a flow of experience. Becoming is happening all the time because causes and conditions are constantly changing. As soon as we grab something and try to connect it to something else, it’s gone. It’s changed, and the connection has changed. We can take a provisional freeze-frame picture in our heads of an interconnected universe, but . . . !
Nonetheless, there are some concrete examples we can consider to try to understand the basic idea. In the natural world, we have food chains, global climate systems and various dependencies in which a change in one component affects the rest of the ecosystem. In society we have social networks, economic systems and cultural expressions where one actions or idea spreads through the network of those relationships and results in massive change. In religious practice, we learn that the boundaries between the self and what’s around it are fluid, and it shifts our understanding about our place in the universe and our responsibilities to others.
Another way to consider interconnection is mutual dependency. We might be able to accept that we’re connected to an external world, but we really like to be self sufficient, so accepting that we’re completely dependent is hard. We might rather be arrogant and deny that we need or receive anything from anywhere, because we see dependency as vulnerability or weakness, when in fact it’s just the nature of reality, not a personal failing. If we fail to appreciate mutual dependency and acknowledge our own vulnerability, then it’s hard to cultivate compassion and do the bodhisattva work of ameliorating suffering. We can hear the cries of the world and decide that those who are suffering are just weak and need to get themselves together, that there’s nothing we need to do and it’s not our problem.
As useful as those concrete examples are, there’s a pitfall here: the human tendency to trade one idea for another. OK, so the separate self is just an illusion, and apparently I’m supposed to leave it behind, so instead I’ll attach to the idea of the flow of experience, or mutual dependency. Of course, it’s not possible to attach to process, which is all that this surrounding environment really is. Interconnection is not a static spider web of stuff with you stuck on one of the threads. It’s more like being in the middle of one of those kaleidoscope screen savers with everything flowing all the time.
Sources of morality
It used to be that morality was the domain of religion, and since most people practiced some kind of religion, that’s how they acquired a sense of values and ethics. These things weren’t taught in schools because the assumption was that kids went to church with their families for that, and church and state were separate. Today, the majority of people don’t practice a religion, ethics are still not taught in schools, and there isn’t a common or widespread way that we pick up a shared ethical system. In fact, since the value today is self-determination and self-actualization, what we’re really expecting is that young people will create their own system of values, morals and ethics. However, they haven’t yet lived in the world and don’t have experience of how things work, so we can only hope that they have healthy families and communities that will pass on some guidelines.
As practitioners, we consider morality in the context of our religious tradition and the teachings of buddhas and ancestors, but it’s certainly possible to have a healthy sense of ethics without being religious. Most major world religions promote wisdom, compassion, patience, humility, etc., but it’s entirely possible to find these qualities in non-religious people and it’s important for us to understand secular morality as well. A secular point of view says that morality is a social construct. In other words, society needs moral rules in order to continue to function without completely breaking down. It’s based on reason and sometimes scientific understanding, but it’s not devoid of empathy and an interest in human wellbeing and flourishing. It focuses on what’s happening in this life on earth rather than on the hereafter. That means we need to take responsibility ourselves for our actions in the world, whether that’s individually or collectively, rather than waiting for a divine judgment about reward or punishment after we die. The basis is critical thinking and empirical evidence rather than religious teachings, and morality in this view is adaptable as new information comes in or circumstances change; for instance, medical ethics may shift as science makes new discoveries, or views may adapt during times of societal change. The goal is to improve people’s quality of life, reduce suffering and promote fairness. The empathy comes in with the recognition that we share various experiences as human beings, and everyone should be treated with dignity and have personal autonomy.
Thus the moral worth or value of an action is determined by the impact it has on human wellbeing or human suffering, and it becomes important to develop ourselves and our characters so that we’re equipped to act in morally responsible ways – for example, being compassionate or honest. This doesn’t seem to conflict with the general direction of faith-based morality -- probably no one would disagree with amelioration of suffering or development of character and virtue -- but there are a couple of important differences in source and authority. Secular morality is derived from human experience and social consensus. Religious morality typically comes from divine commands and sacred texts. Secular systems are OK with doubt and with revision based on new information or changing circumstances. Religious systems rely on an authority that nobody questions and probably doesn’t change much.
Zen seems to sit in the intersection of secular/humanist morality and faith-based morality. Its basis is interconnection, for which we can give a scientific or rational explanation; we’re functioning within or as part of something larger than ourselves that we can't control or deny, but not by divine command. This leads us to consideration of a moral order, which is a shared system of social norms or principles that guide behavior, keep groups together and help define right and wrong. This is not a legal system; traditionally it comes from a divinity, but it can also be a cosmic order based on nature – we would say perhaps jijuyu zammai, universal functioning.
A moral order helps us understand proper behavior in a way that prevents social chaos, including stable political and economic functioning., There’s a system which is not about our personal desires or preferences because it’s larger than we are, and this is one difference between spirituality and religion. Spirituality is a sense of being connected with something larger than ourselves, but it doesn’t ask anything of us that we don’t want to do. In fact, sometimes spirituality can simply be a way of making ourselves more comfortable.
Religion usually includes a moral order of some kind, and that moral order challenges us to grow and develop and gives that trajectory some structure, shape and direction. That direction is usually toward selflessness, or we would say dropping off body and mind. We all agree to be a certain way and set a sense of shared purpose and shared expectations. We usually expect our individual life purpose to be determined solely by what we want to do or what we expect, but from a traditional perspective it’s the cosmic or divine order that appears in front of us and intersects with our own circumstances and sets our direction.
As practitioners we’re sitting in the intersection of our own karma and this larger moment of unified reality, and we have to decide what to do. In our case the answer is not something dictated from outside: Buddhism and Zen are all about verification. Buddha said, I’m not a god, I’m someone who is awake. Do the practice for yourself, study the dharma for yourself, and see whether or not its true. You can wake up too. This isn’t a divine revelation I’m bringing you. Dogen says practice and verification are not two. The moment you practice, awakening is there and you can verify everything for yourself.
Thus our felt responsibility to act morally comes from our understanding of interconnection, that we’re not actually separate from anything else, and that putting unwholesomeness into the world creates unwholesome conditions for ourselves. Harming other beings harms ourselves. We become disease agents or cancerous cells in the larger body of the universe. We call this body the dharmakaya, the dharma body, the universe functioning as the universe functions.
We can understand interconnection intellectually based on science and rational thinking, and as we practice and develop wisdom, we can see things more clearly, but the challenge is to actually embody that understanding. Until we do, interconnection is just a nice idea that we heard about at the temple. We’re practicing in the faith that there’s a lot we can’t see or wrap our intellects around, but it’s still real and important. Karma across time and space, a universal self, the emptiness of all conditioned things including ourselves: science can’t readily show us these things in their entirety; we can only experience them for ourselves, but buddhas and ancestors and dharma brothers and sisters who are farther along on the path and who we trust are assuring us that we are already buddha and awakening is already here, and that wisdom and compassion aren’t a waste of time.
Bodhisattvas hold wisdom and compassion in balance, and here's why that's a challenge. As a result of practice, they arouse great compassion for all beings. They know about origin of suffering and they hear the cries of beings who are in the grip of the three poisons. They can see that this is a characteristic of this karmic human form, and liberation is not easy, so they feel great compassion for everyone. At the same time, they know because of their profound wisdom that the five skandhas are empty, there are no beings and there’s no one to save, and no one for whom they need to feel compassion. As that wisdom arises, the compassion starts to decrease. Then immediately, they're again aware of the cries of the world, and compassion comes back up.
This is how bodhisattvas move through the world navigating moral obligation and moral responsibility. Intellectually they understand how interconnection works and why ethics are necessary to hold a group together and keep it functioning and productive, but they also understand human suffering and the human experience and they don’t discount the importance of that. This is how they fully embody awakening beyond it being just an idea in their heads.
We can see these challenges all the time in a sangha. We want everyone to feel heard, but not everyone can get the outcome they want. We balance personal growth with organizational growth. Sometimes we intentionally do the less efficient thing because it allows people to deepen their practice. We can see that when we’re dealing with morality it’s not just the intersection of short term self-interest and longer term larger good that’s challenging. It’s also the intersection of competing moral responsibilities – they’re both defensible, and which one wins out?
As practitioners, we consider morality in the context of our religious tradition and the teachings of buddhas and ancestors, but it’s certainly possible to have a healthy sense of ethics without being religious. Most major world religions promote wisdom, compassion, patience, humility, etc., but it’s entirely possible to find these qualities in non-religious people and it’s important for us to understand secular morality as well. A secular point of view says that morality is a social construct. In other words, society needs moral rules in order to continue to function without completely breaking down. It’s based on reason and sometimes scientific understanding, but it’s not devoid of empathy and an interest in human wellbeing and flourishing. It focuses on what’s happening in this life on earth rather than on the hereafter. That means we need to take responsibility ourselves for our actions in the world, whether that’s individually or collectively, rather than waiting for a divine judgment about reward or punishment after we die. The basis is critical thinking and empirical evidence rather than religious teachings, and morality in this view is adaptable as new information comes in or circumstances change; for instance, medical ethics may shift as science makes new discoveries, or views may adapt during times of societal change. The goal is to improve people’s quality of life, reduce suffering and promote fairness. The empathy comes in with the recognition that we share various experiences as human beings, and everyone should be treated with dignity and have personal autonomy.
Thus the moral worth or value of an action is determined by the impact it has on human wellbeing or human suffering, and it becomes important to develop ourselves and our characters so that we’re equipped to act in morally responsible ways – for example, being compassionate or honest. This doesn’t seem to conflict with the general direction of faith-based morality -- probably no one would disagree with amelioration of suffering or development of character and virtue -- but there are a couple of important differences in source and authority. Secular morality is derived from human experience and social consensus. Religious morality typically comes from divine commands and sacred texts. Secular systems are OK with doubt and with revision based on new information or changing circumstances. Religious systems rely on an authority that nobody questions and probably doesn’t change much.
Zen seems to sit in the intersection of secular/humanist morality and faith-based morality. Its basis is interconnection, for which we can give a scientific or rational explanation; we’re functioning within or as part of something larger than ourselves that we can't control or deny, but not by divine command. This leads us to consideration of a moral order, which is a shared system of social norms or principles that guide behavior, keep groups together and help define right and wrong. This is not a legal system; traditionally it comes from a divinity, but it can also be a cosmic order based on nature – we would say perhaps jijuyu zammai, universal functioning.
A moral order helps us understand proper behavior in a way that prevents social chaos, including stable political and economic functioning., There’s a system which is not about our personal desires or preferences because it’s larger than we are, and this is one difference between spirituality and religion. Spirituality is a sense of being connected with something larger than ourselves, but it doesn’t ask anything of us that we don’t want to do. In fact, sometimes spirituality can simply be a way of making ourselves more comfortable.
Religion usually includes a moral order of some kind, and that moral order challenges us to grow and develop and gives that trajectory some structure, shape and direction. That direction is usually toward selflessness, or we would say dropping off body and mind. We all agree to be a certain way and set a sense of shared purpose and shared expectations. We usually expect our individual life purpose to be determined solely by what we want to do or what we expect, but from a traditional perspective it’s the cosmic or divine order that appears in front of us and intersects with our own circumstances and sets our direction.
As practitioners we’re sitting in the intersection of our own karma and this larger moment of unified reality, and we have to decide what to do. In our case the answer is not something dictated from outside: Buddhism and Zen are all about verification. Buddha said, I’m not a god, I’m someone who is awake. Do the practice for yourself, study the dharma for yourself, and see whether or not its true. You can wake up too. This isn’t a divine revelation I’m bringing you. Dogen says practice and verification are not two. The moment you practice, awakening is there and you can verify everything for yourself.
Thus our felt responsibility to act morally comes from our understanding of interconnection, that we’re not actually separate from anything else, and that putting unwholesomeness into the world creates unwholesome conditions for ourselves. Harming other beings harms ourselves. We become disease agents or cancerous cells in the larger body of the universe. We call this body the dharmakaya, the dharma body, the universe functioning as the universe functions.
We can understand interconnection intellectually based on science and rational thinking, and as we practice and develop wisdom, we can see things more clearly, but the challenge is to actually embody that understanding. Until we do, interconnection is just a nice idea that we heard about at the temple. We’re practicing in the faith that there’s a lot we can’t see or wrap our intellects around, but it’s still real and important. Karma across time and space, a universal self, the emptiness of all conditioned things including ourselves: science can’t readily show us these things in their entirety; we can only experience them for ourselves, but buddhas and ancestors and dharma brothers and sisters who are farther along on the path and who we trust are assuring us that we are already buddha and awakening is already here, and that wisdom and compassion aren’t a waste of time.
Bodhisattvas hold wisdom and compassion in balance, and here's why that's a challenge. As a result of practice, they arouse great compassion for all beings. They know about origin of suffering and they hear the cries of beings who are in the grip of the three poisons. They can see that this is a characteristic of this karmic human form, and liberation is not easy, so they feel great compassion for everyone. At the same time, they know because of their profound wisdom that the five skandhas are empty, there are no beings and there’s no one to save, and no one for whom they need to feel compassion. As that wisdom arises, the compassion starts to decrease. Then immediately, they're again aware of the cries of the world, and compassion comes back up.
This is how bodhisattvas move through the world navigating moral obligation and moral responsibility. Intellectually they understand how interconnection works and why ethics are necessary to hold a group together and keep it functioning and productive, but they also understand human suffering and the human experience and they don’t discount the importance of that. This is how they fully embody awakening beyond it being just an idea in their heads.
We can see these challenges all the time in a sangha. We want everyone to feel heard, but not everyone can get the outcome they want. We balance personal growth with organizational growth. Sometimes we intentionally do the less efficient thing because it allows people to deepen their practice. We can see that when we’re dealing with morality it’s not just the intersection of short term self-interest and longer term larger good that’s challenging. It’s also the intersection of competing moral responsibilities – they’re both defensible, and which one wins out?
Key elements in the discussion of morality
Altruism
Altruism is unselfish concern for welfare of others, but the defining characteristic is that it comes at a cost. Doing a beneficial action for others costs us something – there’s sacrifice involved, so we can well ask: why would we make such a personal sacrifice? What’s in it for us? There is such a thing as pure or moral altruism, helping others without any expectation of reward or recognition, but there’s a real variety of other kinds and reasons.
Kin altruism: Helping family members ensures the survival of shared genes. and in a moment we’ll look at the evolutionary paradox, which is related
Reciprocal altruism: Helping others with the expectation that you’ll be repaid later. This is critical for creating social bonds – I help you, you help me.
Cultural group altruism: Behaving in ways that support your social group or community, fostering trust, cooperation, and the resilience of the community beyond familial lines.
Caring for others and the environment contributes to our sense of purpose. It helps our mental health when we feel good about being able to help.
The evolutionary paradox mentioned above is related to Darwinian natural selection, where the priority is individual survival and reproduction, vs the existence in the world of self-sacrifice. When a being does good for others at a cost, it’s in some jeopardy and maybe its genes don’t survive. However, the recipient of that action does benefit and its genes do survive. Natural selection says “every being for itself, and maximize your own reproductive success,” so this is apparently a problem. In kin altruism or group altruism, helping family members or group members means the genetic legacy or communal legacy survives even if the individual doesn’t. Thus the argument is that altruism promotes the long term propagation of genes, even if it harms the individual carrier.
If the imperative is to propagate genes, then what we're being obedient to is not a god but the universe doing what it does. However, that's about survival, not about ameliorating suffering. Why would we sacrifice ourselves simply to relieve the suffering of others? We'd have to radically experience nonseparation and that others' suffering is our own suffering. It has to become a lived experience and not just an idea of which we've convinced ourselves intellectually. Then the moral obligation is to ourselves – the self in the largest possible sense.
Kin altruism: Helping family members ensures the survival of shared genes. and in a moment we’ll look at the evolutionary paradox, which is related
Reciprocal altruism: Helping others with the expectation that you’ll be repaid later. This is critical for creating social bonds – I help you, you help me.
Cultural group altruism: Behaving in ways that support your social group or community, fostering trust, cooperation, and the resilience of the community beyond familial lines.
Caring for others and the environment contributes to our sense of purpose. It helps our mental health when we feel good about being able to help.
The evolutionary paradox mentioned above is related to Darwinian natural selection, where the priority is individual survival and reproduction, vs the existence in the world of self-sacrifice. When a being does good for others at a cost, it’s in some jeopardy and maybe its genes don’t survive. However, the recipient of that action does benefit and its genes do survive. Natural selection says “every being for itself, and maximize your own reproductive success,” so this is apparently a problem. In kin altruism or group altruism, helping family members or group members means the genetic legacy or communal legacy survives even if the individual doesn’t. Thus the argument is that altruism promotes the long term propagation of genes, even if it harms the individual carrier.
If the imperative is to propagate genes, then what we're being obedient to is not a god but the universe doing what it does. However, that's about survival, not about ameliorating suffering. Why would we sacrifice ourselves simply to relieve the suffering of others? We'd have to radically experience nonseparation and that others' suffering is our own suffering. It has to become a lived experience and not just an idea of which we've convinced ourselves intellectually. Then the moral obligation is to ourselves – the self in the largest possible sense.
Morals and ethics
Morals are the principles and beliefs and standards that guide our day to day behavior, based on what we consider right and wrong. Morals can be personal principles or they can come from society, but in general they prioritize collective wellbeing over self-interest and they focus on character and proper conduct. Of course, moral principles can be situational and can change across cultures and times, but the point is that this is how people can live cooperatively in groups: they sacrifice short-term gain or self interest for the good of the collective.
There's a difference between morals and ethics; these things are sometimes conflated, but they’re not the same. Morals are personal internal beliefs about right and wrong; ethics are external rules or codes of conduct given by your workplace, religion, school, etc. For example, an ethics committee at your school, temple or workplace has nothing to say about your personal morals, what you believe to be right and true and valuable. It does have something to say about your actions in the world and how you conduct yourself.
Ethics is not entirely a piece of personal discernment. It’s about right and wrong conduct, not right and wrong belief. It’s about our obligations and responsibilities to other beings in the world, and it has to do with good character, and what that means. We can see that all of this is external: how we embody our moral principles.
Our personal moral issues may be about the nature of goodness and wholesomeness, but ethical dilemmas are practical things like when to tell the truth, when to respect privacy, how to deal with conflicts of interest, or how to dole out scarce resources. In general, Western ethical systems prioritize:
As a social construct, ethics are necessary for maintaining trust among both people and institutions, for ensuring accountability particularly in professional environments, and for describing and defining how individuals contribute to the common good. This is all about the collective.
There's a difference between morals and ethics; these things are sometimes conflated, but they’re not the same. Morals are personal internal beliefs about right and wrong; ethics are external rules or codes of conduct given by your workplace, religion, school, etc. For example, an ethics committee at your school, temple or workplace has nothing to say about your personal morals, what you believe to be right and true and valuable. It does have something to say about your actions in the world and how you conduct yourself.
Ethics is not entirely a piece of personal discernment. It’s about right and wrong conduct, not right and wrong belief. It’s about our obligations and responsibilities to other beings in the world, and it has to do with good character, and what that means. We can see that all of this is external: how we embody our moral principles.
Our personal moral issues may be about the nature of goodness and wholesomeness, but ethical dilemmas are practical things like when to tell the truth, when to respect privacy, how to deal with conflicts of interest, or how to dole out scarce resources. In general, Western ethical systems prioritize:
- autonomy, or respecting an individual’s right to self-determination
- beneficence, or acting in ways that promote the good of others
- non-maleficence, or not doing harm
- justice, or treating people fairly and equitably
As a social construct, ethics are necessary for maintaining trust among both people and institutions, for ensuring accountability particularly in professional environments, and for describing and defining how individuals contribute to the common good. This is all about the collective.
Moral and ethical obligation
An ethical obligation comes from an outside rulebook, by which we’ve agreed to be bound. A moral obligation is a duty arising from our own conscience, our own sense of right and wrong, rather than a legal or institutional requirement. It feels like something we have to do, not just what we want to do – it doesn’t feel optional, even if we’re under some pressure to act some other way.
Lots of questions arise about the various types of moral obligation. What are our moral obligations to the community related to things like fulfilling social roles? What are our moral obligations to the state about obeying laws and paying taxes? What about the duties that come from our personal relationships? How much choice do we really have over our actions?
Lots of questions arise about the various types of moral obligation. What are our moral obligations to the community related to things like fulfilling social roles? What are our moral obligations to the state about obeying laws and paying taxes? What about the duties that come from our personal relationships? How much choice do we really have over our actions?
Moral responsibility
In what ways are we really accountable for our actions or inactions, and to who or what? Being morally responsible is acting in accordance with our moral obligations. It means we have to be able to understand morality and being able to act freely. In other words, we had a choice of actions, and we chose the morally responsible one.
If you push a rock off a cliff and crush somebody, you're morally responsible, but the rock is not. You had a choice, but the rock didn’t – physics pulled it to the ground. If we intersect karma with this, it gets complicated, and it’s been complicated for millennia. Our karma unfolds and propells us in a certain direction, and that direction turns out to be unfortunate and leads to suffering. Is that our fault or not?
Historially, this has been a way to blame the victim. People in a lower social caste are there because of bad actions in past lives, so we have no social responsibility for them and we don’t need to help them. For instance, Sotoshu has been working on the issue of discrimination against people with leprosy, or Hansen’s disease, which breaks out during hard conditions like war and famine. In Japan at the turn of the century, sanitoriums were established and eventually all patients were required to go there. This kind of forcible isolation resulted in discrimination even after people were cured; it went on until 1996. The places they’d lived in before the sanitarium, including temples and shrines in some cases, and anything they’d touched or used was harshly disinfected. It created an image of a terrible infectious disease when actually the disease mechanism is pretty weak. On top of that, there were religious leaders who taught that Hansen’s was a karmic disease or divine punishment caused by evil deeds in this life or a past life. In June 2001, Sotoshu started apologizing to patients and working to restore their human rights. That included repentance services, educational resources, training sessions and sanatorium visits. It was an effort to reverse the idea that patients were morally responsible for their own unfortunate karma.
If you push a rock off a cliff and crush somebody, you're morally responsible, but the rock is not. You had a choice, but the rock didn’t – physics pulled it to the ground. If we intersect karma with this, it gets complicated, and it’s been complicated for millennia. Our karma unfolds and propells us in a certain direction, and that direction turns out to be unfortunate and leads to suffering. Is that our fault or not?
Historially, this has been a way to blame the victim. People in a lower social caste are there because of bad actions in past lives, so we have no social responsibility for them and we don’t need to help them. For instance, Sotoshu has been working on the issue of discrimination against people with leprosy, or Hansen’s disease, which breaks out during hard conditions like war and famine. In Japan at the turn of the century, sanitoriums were established and eventually all patients were required to go there. This kind of forcible isolation resulted in discrimination even after people were cured; it went on until 1996. The places they’d lived in before the sanitarium, including temples and shrines in some cases, and anything they’d touched or used was harshly disinfected. It created an image of a terrible infectious disease when actually the disease mechanism is pretty weak. On top of that, there were religious leaders who taught that Hansen’s was a karmic disease or divine punishment caused by evil deeds in this life or a past life. In June 2001, Sotoshu started apologizing to patients and working to restore their human rights. That included repentance services, educational resources, training sessions and sanatorium visits. It was an effort to reverse the idea that patients were morally responsible for their own unfortunate karma.
Moral injury or moral drama
Moral injury happens when one moral obligation violates another. If we’re whole and healthy, we align what we do with what we value, and when we don’t, we have stress. I should or want to do this, but I have to do that according to circumstances, and it keeps me up at night or feels like an impossible choice. There’s no right answer because someone suffers either way.
Moral injury creates real suffering -- psychologically, socially and spiritually -- and it happens because of something we see, something we do, or something we don’t do. The guilt, shame, anger or feeling of betrayal can be quite intense, and we can feel really bad about ourselves, even cutting ourselves off from relationships -- not only because of the way we see ourselves, but because we’ve lost trust in authority figures or organizations or other things. Our sense of meaning and purpose is severely challenged: if this sort of thing can happen, then what’s the point?
Moral injury creates real suffering -- psychologically, socially and spiritually -- and it happens because of something we see, something we do, or something we don’t do. The guilt, shame, anger or feeling of betrayal can be quite intense, and we can feel really bad about ourselves, even cutting ourselves off from relationships -- not only because of the way we see ourselves, but because we’ve lost trust in authority figures or organizations or other things. Our sense of meaning and purpose is severely challenged: if this sort of thing can happen, then what’s the point?
Character building and virtue
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Character building
How do we become moral and ethical people who can put aside our selfish impulses for the good of others? In other words, how do we learn to act like bodhisattvas in the world? It’s about more than just agreeing to be bound by a list of dos and don’ts imposed from somewhere that we’ve memorized. It’s about cultivating ourselves so that the wholesome ethical action arises naturally and spontaneously. This is where we need to think about character building – who and how do we aspire to be? Sometimes this is called moral formation, and we could say that moral formation is about three things:
One could say that building character or cultivating virtue is bridging the gap between ethics and morals so our outward actions are in alignment with our inward beliefs about what’s true and wholesome, and we’re being authentic and not misleading ourselves or others. What are the virtues we want to develop that are aligned with precepts? When we look at the virtues centralized in religions across the world, we can see pretty quickly that these various traditions all value similar things. There is something about goodness or wholesomeness in the human experience that’s captured in these characteristics, so Buddhism and Buddhists are no more or less moral or ethical than other traditions. How do we do that work of character building? Let’s start with broader perspectives about character and virtue and then see what practice and developing wisdom have to do with it. We have to start by talking about values. Not long ago, the Episcopalian bishop in Washington DC, Mariann Budde, said: The primary role of clergy is to equip the people to be the embodiment of their religious ideals in one form or another — and to create alternative communities based on those values. [Why do more people seem to be celebrating Diwali? NYT Oct 24, 2025] We can extend that to say that an important reason that we practice is to learn how embody our values, or our awakening, and not just think or talk about them. The clergy play a leadership role and can do some modeling, but the actual practice is up to you, and as for creating alternative communities based on those values, that’s sangha. Sangha is where we practice for taking our values out into the world and acting on them every day. Values
One of the elements of spiritual health is a clear understanding of one’s inner truths and on what these are based. Being able to align what we do with what we value requires that we clearly understand what our values are in the first place. Values are primarily based on beliefs about what’s true, what’s important in life, and what kind of people we aspire to be, so since our actions are based on our values, doing discernment about what’s true and important is key. Values are rooted in emotions, and emotions are how you assign value to things, though we need reason to help us act on them skillfully. Thus in addition to intellectual learning, we need to educate our emotions. That starts in childhood, but we can’t stop there – we have to continue to develop as adults. This is where humanities come in: arts, literature, ritual that help us understand human existance, and the role that emotions and values play in that existance, stories that demonstrate how causes and conditions weave together. Deportment, chanting, meals using oryoki, sewing robes, sitting zazen are all part of our human emotional education that help us understand our values as well as develop skillful means of acting on them in the world, and this is why the actual experience of our practice life is critical. This is the bodhisattva who balances wisdom and compassion, truth and a sense of values. Monju’s sword of truth can kill people unless Kannon hears their cries. The bodhisattva has both sharp rational thinking and emotional maturity. We can think of our values as being on a vertical spectrum, and we can experience moral injury when we get our values out of order. Those arising from wisdom and compassion are at the “higher” end; values arising from self-centeredness and assumptions about disconnection are typically found on the “lower” end of the value spectrum and they feed the three poisons. How do we counteract these poisons? We can’t take a purely intellectual approach, because the poisons involve values, and values are determined by emotion. We have to replace a lower value with something we value more in our aspiration to become the people we want to be. Which one wins out, being seen as an insider with juicy gossip to share OR preserving a friendship by respecting confidentiality? Gossip results in suffering because we generally agree that friendship is a higher value than momentary celebrity. Which one wins out, eating chocolate cake OR maintaining a healthy weight? Making money by any means necessary OR being honest? Avoiding a difficult situation OR showing courage? When the lower values wins, we feel bad about ourselves because we’re not behaving like the kind of people we aspire to be. This is moral injury: two values in conflict. All of this means that we have to look very carefully at what we value and why. If we believe that one thing has a higher value than another, why do we think so? What actions are we taking in the world based on that conclusion? This isn’t a conversation we usually have with ourselves directly and honestly, and the result is that we often operate on assumptions or ignore what’s actually happening to our moral and spiritual health. Now you might be thinking: But Zen keeps telling me not to have attachments and to let go of desires. If you value something, doesn’t that mean you’re attached to it? How can we hold standards or ideals and aspire to be the people we want to be if we’re supposed to give up desires? Well, Zen practice isn't telling you not to want things. It’s not possible, really, in the human experience or the human realm. It’s saying that you should want the higher things on the spectrum, and then be diligent in improving yourself in those directions. Aspiration is not the same as clinging and craving and grasping. This is one case where a yardstick can actually be useful if used skillfully. There’s a subtle difference between “good” and “better than.” Improving ourselves is good as long as we’re not getting caught up in resentment and envy because someone else is better than we are. Aspiration is good as long as it doesn’t devolve into blind ambition to be better than someone else. Ambition is about external stuff and aspiration is about internal stuff – what we’re doing vs who we are. Interestingly, it’s been said that for Western people, learning is a cognitive activity that you do in order to understand and master the external world, while for Asian people, learning is a moral activity that you do in order to cultivate your own virtues. This also has something to do with where we look for authority. In the West you have credibility if you’re coolly scientific and rational and can talk about the data. You want to be as neutral and unemotional as possible – but where does that leave moral leadership? As bodhisattvas, can we lead with both wisdom and compassion, both rational judgement and an awareness of what we value and why? One of Buddha’s and Dogen’s eight qualities of a great being is knowing contentment, and we have to understand what that means so we don’t make a mistake and go off the rails. Contentment is about managing the desire for finite things: cars and chocolate and toys. There’s a point where enough is enough, and more isn’t going to make us any happier. Contentment as a limiting force doesn’t apply to infinite things: wisdom, generosity, benevolence, tolerance. There is no point at which we’ve done all we can with these and there’s nothing more to work for. Aspiration for character development or becoming a bodhisattva goes on and on. The bodhisattva ideal in Mahayana Buddhism is that an individual makes a commitment to liberate all beings before attaining his own full enlightenment. The bodhisattva acts in this world to transform delusion and relieve suffering, and this is who practitioners aspire to be. Uchiyama Roshi called this being “a true adult.” We take the four vows and receive the precepts, and these things give us frameworks for living by articulating what’s important. The way we become the kind of people we aspire to be is to surround ourselves with people we admire and respect in a circumstance where excellence is demanded. For us, that’s the temple and sangha, a bunch of other people who take bodhisattva vows and precepts and hold up standards and hold us accountable for our conduct. Dogen quotes an old saying: When we walk in the mist, without knowing it our clothing becomes moist. [195] He uses it to make the point that if we associate with good people, then we ourselves become good. If we put ourselves in places of practice with others who have same aspiration, then we absorb dharma. Now: how do we replace a lower value with something we value more? In other words, how do we turn unwholesomeness into wholesomeness? In the world of Buddhist practice, there are two steps. First we have to identify the hindrance that’s getting in the way. What’s making me angry instead of loving and patient? What’s making me greedy and selfish instead of generous and content? What’s making me forget what Buddha taught instead of remembering how suffering arises and gets spread around? You can insert here whatever negative thing is happening for you: being inauthentic, fearful, unkind, judging, whatever. When this thing arises, what kind of delusion is it tied to? What’s the trigger? However, just knowing what the hindrance is isn’t enough to make it go away. We have to cultivate the opposite instead – we have to replace a lower value with a higher one. That takes intention and clarity and effort. We’re going to fall down all the time, and we have to keep getting back up. It's another instance of vow and repentance and our practice is never complete. If we don’t practice this way, living a moral and ethical life is very difficult. It becomes performative -- I’m acting out the grave precepts as an assignment -- but that doesn’t work, because an ethical life requires discernment. Precepts don’t work the same way in every circumstance, so if you don’t have the foundation of values, you still don’t know what wholesomeness is. Developing ourselves and our practice makes it more likely that our spontaneous response to the world will be in line with precepts. We can’t just read the list and think, OK, I’ll do that now. When habituated thinking comes along, we’re going to do what we always do. We have to actively, intentionally choose something else. Instead of being resentful and harboring a grudge, I’m going to try to forgive instead Again: the way we become the kind of people we aspire to be is to surround ourselves with people w admire and respect in a circumstance where excellence is demanded. This is one value of a sangha: we can look to Buddhas and ancestors, dharma teachers and sangha friends for examples of how to embody awakening, and we also receive their expectations that we do our best in each moment and hold some standards. Reading books on our own, sitting on our own, watching videos on our own are OK, but they don’t bring it all together and show us how to embody wisdom and compassion. Morals and ethics are about recognizing interconnection and then knowing how to act in the midst of other beings. That’s why sangha is important – we need to be physically part of a community, surrounded every so often by others who share this aspiration to engage with others in a wholesome way, who are enacting a certain set of values so we can see how that’s done and be part of it ourselves, giving and receiving and folding into what’s happening. You can’t do that by yourself. Practices
What are we actually doing in the midst of sangha, or when we’re practicing on our own, to develop character in line with precepts? We can look to several key teachings in our tradition. The eightfold path is part of the four noble truths – the way we loosen the grip of suffering. The Hachidainingaku, or eight awarenesses of great people, come from Buddha’s final instructions just before he died; these are the eight characteristics necessary for manifesting awakening. Dogen’s commentary on them forms the last fascicle of his Shobogenzo. If we want a framework or roadmap for our morality, we can start here. Why is it important to include character when we’re considering precepts? We already have this handy list of guidelines and isn’t that enough? If we’re vowing to uphold precepts, we’re vowing to become the kind of people who are capable of upholding precepts. Studying the precepts themselves is important, but if it’s just a list of don’ts, then it quickly becomes an abstract intellectual exercise. You can debate for hours about having five people in a lifeboat with only enough food for four and who are you going to throw over the side? That’s fun and interesting, but it doessn't necessarily move you toward being a bodhisattva. It's not enough for someone to hand you a list and say "This is your life now." We’re just imposing an infrastructure that’s disconnected from your actual human experience and worldview, and since there’s nothing that’s objectively “right,” why would you take that on? We need actual things we can do to become people who uphold precepts. We can promise we’re not going to engage in divisive speech, but that’s kind of meaningless unless we’re also cultivating the six paramitas or the eight awarenesses. Rather than restraining our actions, what we’re aiming for is a circumstance where the impulse to be unskillful doesn’t come up. We’re replacing a lower value with a higher one. Inspiration and aspiration
Certainly, no one is required to practice or to take precepts. Just before the jukai-e, kaitei coming to the preceptor as a group and formally ask to receive the precepts. They can’t be given to you any other way; it has to be your choice. Something arises when we begin to practice – we call it bodhicitta or the mind of awakening – and we feel like we want to make a commitment to this kind of life. It’s worth asking where that commitment comes from – what’s the basis of your choice to do this? Maybe it will help our resolve to make a public profession. Maybe we like the idea of being part of the worldwide sangha. One hopes it’s not because we want to impress people, or ourselves. An interesting question arises here: Do we have a moral obligation to practice? The usual story is that when decide to practice, we start to see clearly and skillful action arises naturally, and in that scenario, the insight and skillful action are byproducts of practice. We started practicing for some other reason and these are a nice add-on. but do we really have a choice about whether or not to do that kind of wisdom development? Are we doing “self help” for personal comfort because we feel like it, or are we building character and virtue because we're responsible to society for being able to function effectively? Do we owe moral obligations because we're being supported by the universe? One of the realizations we have when we start practicing is that even when we’re feeling completely alone and isolated, we can’t escape the reality of interconnection. We like feeling independent and self-sufficient, but the reality is that we have nothing when we come into the world. We get our physical form from our parents, our language and culture from society, food and water from the earth. We could not exist without the complete functioning of the universe, so do we owe something in return? What's the role of gratitude? Gratitude seems like a nice feeling, but real gratitude is about responsible actions. The universe might be saying, if you really want to thank me, stop killing each other and taking people's stuff. The argument can be made that we’re practicing because it's a moral obligation to grow spiritually and be better people, not just as a quest for personal fulfillment. We’re doing it because we should, not just because we can. Interconnection demands morality and we have no real choice about either one. We owe it to the universe as an interconnected element, and not doing it puts us out of alignment and creates suffering. That means being a bodhisattva is not something special we undertake or achieve but something we all have a responsibility to become, not just because we've taken it on as a hobby or a means of personal liberation but because solving larger local and global problems starts with individuals understanding their values and behaving ethically. Relationship between virtues and character
As we’ve seen, morals or virtues are internal beliefs and qualities that have to do with the spirit. Precepts are descriptions of behavior or actions and they show us where the boundary is between wholesome and unwholesome. It’s a similar relationship to the one between Christian virtues and the 10 commandments. In both cases, it’s our internal state that naturally inspires us to act in wholesome ways so that the precepts or commandments or guidelines aren’t just a dead set of rules. When we follow the precepts, we make space for good character to develop. When we avoid destructive behaviors, we prevent immediate harm to ourselves and others, and we can use that energy and attention instead to cultivate a more helpful attitude. By keeping the precepts we can stay out of trouble, but our aspiration is not just a sort of legal compliance or observing the letter of the law. Developing virtues transforms our character so that we can become Buddha and authentically reflect awakening. Discernment
When we develop our practice and build character, we increase our ability to do discernment. Spiritual discernment is the practice of perceiving, understanding, and aligning with – a theistic religious would say – divine wisdom. We can say with this one unified reality or universal functioning of everything as it is, which is another way of saying interconnection. It’s the capacity to distinguish between reality and fabrications, between wholesome and unwholesome. Is this what’s really true, or is this just my idea or my wishful thinking? This is developing wisdom rather than knowledge; it’s more than just intellectual discernment, because when we’re really deeply experiencing interconnection for ourselves, we make good choices and take good actions. If we’re going to be in alignment with universal functioning, we have to see what’s happening, understand it, and know what to do. That means we clearly see impermanence, suffering and no-self, the three marks of existence. We discern that all conditioned things are impermanent, unsatisfactory and empty, we understand what that means, and that understanding forms the basis of our actions. Discerning impermanence means that we see for ourselves and know that everything is in a constant state of flux and nothing is static or permanent. Causes and conditions change, the things that arise from them change and dissolve, and if we try to cling to them we’re setting ourselves up for suffering. Discerning suffering means we see for ourselves and know that chasing and running away from things is only a temporary fix. Because there’s nothing we can grasp and hold forever, we can stop putting all of our energy into getting stuff and believing that the stuff will solve all our problems – we know it will never work. Discerning no-self means we see for ourselves and know that one of the biggest objects of our clinging is a permanent and independent self, but that that fixed self is an illusion. Like everything else, we’re entirely dependent on causes and conditions which are constantly changing, so our mental and physical process are also constantly changing. If we’re basing our actions on the idea that we’re separate from everything else and have a fixed identity, again we’re setting ourselves up for suffering. This is where we consider what we might call worldly logic and moral logic. Worldly logic says that we make some effort, invest some resources, and we get a reward for ourselves in the end. Moral logic says that we give up power to get what Christians would call grace, a spiritual transformation that we cannot “earn,” or that we give up “success” because it leads to the failure called pride, while we may embrace failure because it can lead to the success called humility. Worldly logic is based on self, while moral logic is based on no-self. If we can discern these three marks of existence, we can function in a wholesome way. Interconnection is already an undeniable reality, so what we do makes a difference whether we’re in alignment or not. Why not aim ourselves toward NOT tearing the fabric if we’re putting in effort either way? |
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Dogen on precepts and virtues
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from the Shobogenzo Zuimonki
From Shobogenzo Zuimonki: 1-4 When practicing the Way, we must be cautious of our deep-rooted attachments and cast them aside. If you change your physical behavior [igi deportment], your mind will change as well. First of all, if you maintain activities according to the precepts based on moral codes and forms, then your mind will also be transformed. 1-8 Students of the Way, each one of us should reflect on our own self. To reflect on our self means to examine how we behave with our own body and mind. Patch-robed monks are already the children of Shakyamuni. We must follow the lifestyle of the Tathagatha. There are codes of dignified conduct regarding the manner of body, speech and thought that have been carried out by a thousand buddhas. All of us should follow them. Even in the lay world, it is said, “Our clothes should be in accordance with the law; our speech should correspond with the Way.” We [monks] must never follow our [ego-centered] self. Overall, Dogen saw precepts differently than others had up to that time. He didn’t see stages of practice, but practice itself as complete and total verification. We don’t sit zazen in order to become Buddha but because we already are Buddha. We don’t take precepts in order to follow them and improve ourselves but because they are a complete expression of Buddha nature. He says that because everything arises from wisdom or awakening, imposing a set of precepts on ourselves as something from the outside doesn’t make sense; they arise naturally from awakening as a description of bodhisattva life rather than being a set of rules about stuff we shouldn’t be doing or have to keep ourselves from doing. Deportment is itself the Buddhadharma (igi-soku buppō 威儀即仏法)
Since we know that one of the two things Dogen wanted to bring to Japan from China was the monastic container, its not surprising that he had something to say about deportment, both from the point of view of daily specifics and from the point of view of absolute reality. We also need to remember the context for his writings about deportment. He was pretty unimpressed by the laxity he saw around him in other temples that were full of men who had become monks looking for free food and an easy life. He established high standards for moral behavior and serious dedication to practice so that his temple was actually able to embody the practice he learned in China, to carry it out and pass it on. He provides detailed instructions on how to carry out daily tasks and practices and how to behave in various situations with various people. How we conduct ourselves when walking down the hall or brushing our teeth is just as important as how we conduct ourselves during zazen. It’s not that the world will end if we don’t carry out forms exactly; it’s that each of our daily activities is nothing other than zazen and a complete manifestation of buddha nature. Dogen says that awakening is nothing other than eating rice and drinking tea. Thus the content of our deportment, if you will—what we’re actually doing or saying or creating—is less important than the enactment of buddha nature itself. It’s the unhindered functioning rather than the specifics of the activity or the outcome of the activity. It’s enactment rather than attainment: the conduct of the dharma talk or the chanting rather than what gets said, the cooking rather than the meal, the washing rather than the clean dishes. By emulating the conduct of buddhas and ancestors and senior practitioners, we learn with the body. It’s a way of entering into that space of awakening with them by taking on characteristics of an awakened being. At first we may be intentionally conducting ourselves the way they do, but at some point our deportment becomes an expression of our own awakening. Emulating the conduct of buddhas and ancestors means whether we’re sitting, standing, walking or lying down we’re acting skillfully, promoting wholesomeness and discouraging unwholesomeness. Dogen tells us several times in the Zuimonki that if we want to practice the Way we should conduct ourselves the way they do without any expectation of gain or reward This is another aspect of "practice and awakening are not two." We’re not practicing to get something later that isn’t here now, and from this larger standpoint, we’re not minding our manners in order to avoid showing disrespect. Our deportment is completely Buddha living out life of Buddha, not something we do for sake of anything else. “The way for sake of way” is why late in his life Dogen favors monasticism over lay life, not that laypeople in themselves are incapable. The temple container reinforces our commitment to deportment. All the energy goes to practice rather than diverting some to family, work or home. It's not a comment on the people but on the practice circumstance: temple life is the ideal because there are expectations for our conduct that are reflected back to us by the sangha. This is a teaching that encourages us to ask ourselves who it is that’s practicing dignified deportment. Is there a “me” in here that’s not gossiping and not stealing and not disparaging the Buddha? If you are already buddha, if you’re not trying to get something, then how do you act? How do you function in this moment—not in the abstract, but with what you’re doing with your body and mind right now? How you walk through a room, handle objects, talk to people -- how does a buddha do that? Am I just doing things to go through the motions, without really investigating what’s happening? Or to shore up my ego? Going through the motions is not Dogen’s kind of practice. If awakening is continuous functioning and encountering the suchness of each thing with our most authentic self, then no wonder he tells us to practice as though our heads were on fire. We need to know what we’re doing and why, and that’s still alive here in Sanshin style, where we keep forms simple so we know what we’re doing and why rather than going through the motions or ceremonies or actvities as a performance just because they’re expected. If we’re paying attention, we’re conducting ourselves as buddha in each moment. Every moment is an opportunity to manifest buddha nature with some intention, so carelessly causing inconvenience or harm to someone really misses the mark. It’s not the dignified practice conduct of buddhas and ancestors. |
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