Free Living Beautifully with Uncertainty and Change by Pema Chödrön Page A

it, His Holiness replied, “I didn’t get rid of it. It’s still there.” But it no longerdrags him down. It has motivated him to keep working to benefit people in every way he can.
    The commitment to take care of one another is a vow to awaken so we can help other beings awaken. A vow to awaken so we can alleviate the suffering in the world. A vow to continue on this journey for as long as it takes, even if that’s forever. Shantideva captures the essence of this commitment in a verse that’s said to be a favorite of the Dalai Lama’s:
     
And now as long as space endures,
As long as there are beings to be found,
May I continue likewise to remain
To drive away the sorrows of the world.
     
    Given the vast scope of this second commitment, keeping it is like mission impossible. One way we break it is by closing our heart or mind to someone for even a few seconds. I’ve never known anyone who could avoid this altogether, but still we pledge to move toward keeping the door open to everyone. Another way we break the vow is through self-denigration—believing our own faults are intrinsic and impossible to remove and sending ourselves messages like “I’m a hopeless case; I’ll never get it.” We also break the vow when we denigrate others, criticizing their culture or customs or traditions or beliefs. Bias or bigotry of any sort breaks the vow.
    When we break the first commitment, when we cause harm at the level of speech or action, it’s very clear. If, for example, we kill or lie or steal, there’s no question that we’ve broken the vow. But when it comes to the commitment to take care of one another, breaking the vow is not sostraightforward. There is a traditional Buddhist tale that illustrates this point. A sea captain known as Captain Courage was piloting a ship carrying five hundred men when a pirate boarded the boat and threatened to kill them all. The captain realized that if the pirate carried out his plan, he would not only kill all the passengers but also sow the seeds of his own intense suffering. So, out of compassion for the pirate as well as to save the five hundred men, the captain killed the pirate. In killing one to save many, Captain Courage was willing to take the consequences of his actions, whatever they might be, in order to prevent the suffering of others. This is why the second commitment requires bravery—the bravery to do whatever we think will bring the greatest benefit, the bravery to face the fact that we never know for sure what will really benefit and what, in fact, will only make matters worse.
    Few of us will ever be confronted with a predicament like Captain Courage’s, of course, but we can easily find ourselves in situations in which we try to rationalize our questionable behavior with some perfectly plausible justification. It’s amazing the levels of self-deception we can reach. But that’s where the commitments are such a support. They help us to acknowledge our state of mind and pull ourselves out of a downward slide.
    We don’t graduate from one commitment to the next. The commitment to not cause harm stays in place as the foundation for the commitment to take care of one another. The training in not acting or speaking in a way that escalates suffering, the training in acknowledging our triggers and staying present with discomfort, is essential if we wish to go further. The commitment to not cause harm helps us cut through self-deception and develop a friendship withourselves, a friendship that deepens as we begin to look closely at ourselves and lay aside the habits that cause us continued suffering. The warrior commitment rests on that base of self-honesty. When we meet our edge, when life triggers our habitual responses, we train in catching them, knowing that if we speak or act out of shenpa, we won’t be able to respond appropriately and support others.
    Fortunately, when we break the commitment to take care of one another, it’s easy to mend. We start by