Compassion 
by B Johnston 
July 2, 2007

I love how the universe sends messengers. This morning I met one in the garden shop at Home Depot. This huge hearted stranger was looking for a solution to a Japanese beetle infestation that threatened his fruit trees and he asked me to read the back of a pesticide bottle, to make sure the contents were pet friendly. He didn't want to risk endangering his cats or the squirrels or birds in his yard. He really didn't want to hurt the beetles, either, but it had come down to a choice between the trees or the insects. One thing led to another and he told me how there was a yellow jacket nest in his backyard, but that they'd never swarmed, even when he mowed, so he was willing to let them be until something changed. And besides, he enjoyed watching them, moving tirelessly in and out of their tunnel. We talked about the tiny ants that come inside the house and his attitude was the same. The ants only go as far as the cat bowls, so he feeds the cats near the door. What's the harm? Later on, he explained his extraordinary compassion with the words, "I'm a Viet Nam vet and I don't want to kill anything." Let that settle in your heart a minute. Take a breath. Pause and consider. Mmmmm.

I've heard sentences before that began with those first four words but they usually ended with descriptions of physical, emotional and spiritual illnesses. I've heard them used in connection with the violence symptomatic of Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome and with the paralysis of depression and epidemic homelessness. Here was a man with scars...a man who had lost the sight in one eye, and he was talking about respect for life in all its forms. This man had transformed his untold suffering into a wellspring of compassion and he was talking in the most concrete, earth bound, demonstrable way about oneness with all that is. And friends, it's that simple. That's the Christ light. The Buddha mind. The heart of the matter.

copyright © 2007 B Johnston

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