Hot temper

1. ASSESSMENT

Hot temper (anger, sân): a state of lost composure caused by irritation and displeasure, which often makes us react strongly.

There are many kinds of lost composure. When something delightful happens, we too can fall into a state of lost composure. But here the loss of composure is not caused by irritation and displeasure, so it is no problem and is not called anger.

For example, we are living in a temple and practising. Naturally, being new to practice, we have not yet cut off emotional attachment. One day, we hear that our parents have come to visit, we are overjoyed, we hurry downstairs and greet them with joyful handshakes. That too is a state of lost composure, but it is not caused by irritation and displeasure, so it is not called anger.

Or, because we studied and trained hard, at the end of the year we are rated highly and rewarded. Hearing the news, we are delighted and our gestures become flustered and clumsy. That too is a state of lost composure but is not called anger.

So when do states of irritation and displeasure usually arise?

First, they arise when our honour or body is insulted. Or, in other words, when our ego is struck. If the ego is not struck, not offended, we do not flare up. But what does it mean to touch the ego? It depends on what we cling to. To whatever degree we cling, if someone else touches it, that is called touching our ego, and naturally we flare up with anger.

For example, the basic clinging of human beings is to cling to this body as "me". So whoever touches this body creates a problem and makes us flare up. There are many cases regarded as touching this body.

For example, every day we look in the mirror two or three times and feel proud to be the belle of the school. One day, someone suddenly looks at us and says our face looks very dark. Because we cling to the body every day like this, when we hear the remark we feel angry. The irritation, the displeasure, the sense of losing composure keep welling up. That state is called anger, when our body is touched by words.

Or in the middle of a debate, someone slaps us on the cheek. The feeling of a painful slap on the cheek is also a feeling that our ego has been touched and makes us burst into rage. The state of flaring up because the body is touched is the coarsest, most basic clinging, which everyone meets.

If every day we do not sit in meditation to settle the body and see that this body is impermanent and illusory, then when someone touches us we will feel upset at once. Conversely, if every day we sit in meditation settling the body, regarding this body as impermanent and illusory, until over time it becomes spiritual strength, then we will not cling to the body and will be able to stay calm in any circumstance.

There is a folk remedy for hiccups that is very effective. It is to find a way to make the person angry, to make them react strongly, and the hiccups vanish naturally. Someone used this "trick" to cure a monk in the temple of his hiccups but it was ineffective. For a practitioner is not easily provoked. Probably thanks to the process of settling the body, they do not lose composure or become angry in any situation.

The Buddha often taught us to sit contemplating a corpse, to see that this body will die, will swell, rot and disintegrate until only bones remain, and then the bones too become ash and are blown away by the wind. That is the contemplation done when sitting in meditation, and we see it very clearly in our own body. But for the young, this will be somewhat hard to recognise, because the young usually cling to the body. The old, or the sick and frail, easily see that this body is impermanent and decaying; while healthy, not everyone easily realises this.

We must try to let go of clinging to the body so that, in whatever situation we fall into, we can keep a calm attitude. For instance, when we are out on the road, if someone accidentally knocks us down, we remain composed as if nothing has happened. If people see us get up, gently brush off the dust and walk on, they will respect us practitioners more. And so their aspiration for the Path will also grow.

That is about the body; what about honour? Honour is a person's worth. Usually, people may not cling to the body but still value their worth and honour. They may accept death but will not accept having their honour insulted. In the past, in Japan there was a class called the samurai (võ sĩ đạo). They were people who valued honour greatly. As soon as honour was lost, they would take their own life immediately. For example, in a challenge match, whoever lost would commit suicide at once, because they felt shamed when their honour was gone. Someone told that in the 1960s, in Japan, a table tennis tournament was held among Southeast Asian countries. Vietnam also sent players to take part. After beating the other countries, the Vietnamese player began to play against a Japanese player who was the world table tennis champion. The match was fierce. In the end, the Vietnamese team won. That Japanese player cut open his own belly and died on the spot. That is how the Japanese value honour.

So do we practitioners value honour?

In Buddhism there is one practice, the perfection of forbearance (nhẫn nhục Ba-la-mật). However much people may offend us, we must not become angry. In some cases they offend not only us but also our Teacher, even the Buddha, and we must still practise forbearance. If we value honour too highly and react sharply when offended, we are not people of forbearance.

Therefore, we must live very properly, keep the precepts, deportment and fine conduct; keep ethics and proper manners. Whenever we go out, we wear the long robe. Even when going on alms round, we go with a calm bearing, without begging or soliciting. That is, we value honour greatly and always keep a proper style so that others do not look down on us. But if we are insulted and still do not become angry and do not react, does that mean we do not value honour and have no sense of shame? And so, how should we correctly understand the matter of valuing honour for practitioners like us?

In truth, to raise the question of whether or not to value honour is already to be governed by selfishness, thinking only about ourselves. If we stand on the standpoint of no-self, only for sentient beings, we will not raise the question of honour at all. So honour is something very illusory. We practitioners should not raise the question of honour. Having already let go of clinging to self, what meaning does honour have?

However, although we do not value honour, we ALSO need to keep our moral character serious and exemplary. That is out of love for all sentient beings and for the faith of everyone. Sentient beings need the Dharma to rely on, need light to walk in the dark. But the Buddha has entered Nirvana, and his teaching is only theory; only we, the ordained, can light the lamp for them and make the Dharma alive in this world.

So, however much worldly people curse and offend us, we must practise forbearance. We must keep our character and ethics, keep our dignified bearing everywhere and at all times. In doing these things, we do not do it for ourselves at all, but so that sentient beings can have faith in the Path.

So once we aim not at ourselves but at sentient beings, we will not be in contradiction between so-called forbearance before others' offences and a serious way of life that preserves the practice of the Path.

The second case: irritation and displeasure arise when our property is infringed.

Property is a very heavy clinging for human beings. Why? We know that everyone, especially lay people, earns money with great effort. They exchange sweat and tears for it, toiling all day, month after month, to earn money. So they treasure the property they have built up. Only people who earn money too easily do not value it. So whoever infringes on another's property, especially things they take care of and love, touches their ego and will make them angry.

For example, we have a very beautiful cup and cherish it every day. One day someone visits, carelessly drops it on the floor and it shatters. Because it is something we treasure greatly, we surely cannot avoid anger.

Whatever we treasure shows that our clinging has reached that degree, so we flare up easily when another infringes on it. So as practitioners, we must know how to let go, from the body to property, so that if we are offended we do not feel burdened. A person who can do this has a good practising mind.

For example, when we listen to a conversation between two nuns, we can assess their level of practice. During the conversation, one complains:

• The neighbour's chickens keep coming over and scratching at my fence; it is really a nuisance.

The other says:

• They scratch the fence, they don't scratch anything of ours, so why be angry?

By analysing the words of the two, we see that the first nun clings to her property as extending from the house, yard and garden, plants and trees, to the fence. So when anyone touches these possessions, they touch her ego. The second nun already knows how to gradually detach from property and so feels that something touching the fence has nothing to do with her. That is a person with a good, progressing mind of practice.

In sum, among the three clingings of ordinary people, clinging to the body and clinging to property are coarse clingings, at a low level. Clinging to honour is a clinging at a higher level.

People with a sense of shame and education usually value honour. Some even value honour more than life, more than their property. They would rather accept a life of poverty than ever flatter or fawn upon others. By contrast, ordinary people do not value spiritual life and often do not care about honour. For them, body and property are more precious than everything. Sometimes, for money and material things, they are ready to accept grovelling, regardless of others' offences.

As for us who live the life of practice, we must rise above those three clingings. Although we affirm that body and property are nothing to us, if we are not careful and do not practise steadily, we too will be governed by clinging to the body and to property.

For example, walking along the road, we suddenly step into a hole and fall painfully. We will be very upset and blame the road workers for being careless, for not filling in the places they dug, making us fall painfully in the dark. It is only being upset and blaming like that, but clearly we have been governed by clinging to the body.

As for property, a practitioner must of course go beyond it. If we are not careful and do not go beyond it, self-clinging will be very heavy. For in Buddhism, the Buddha taught us not to accumulate property but to practise living a life without possessions. So clinging to property makes us worldly. According to the law of cause and effect, the more we do not cling, the more we have. If we have wealth and property and give it to others in charity, then when we need it, wealth naturally comes to us. This is very strange.

There is a story that in Christianity there was a Saint named Don Bosco. He followed a religious order devoted to education. When he entered the order, his mother said: On the day I know you have ten francs in your pocket, I will not look at your face again.

He loved his mother very much. So throughout his time in religious life, he never dared keep money for fear his mother would know and abandon him. When he had money, he immediately gave it to others. Yet money kept arising. As he grew older, his ethics grew. For once there is the practice of giving, other practices open up in the same way.

He specialised in education and so often took stray, unruly children home to feed and teach them. His work was very great. Once, he intended to build a large school so that those children would have a proper place to study. Of course, that was only an intention because he had no money ready. The strange thing was that no sooner had the intention arisen than someone brought him a cartload of money. That was precisely the merit he had earned through his active giving.

And so, throughout his life of caring for sentient beings and educating everyone in good things, he developed supernormal powers. He had an intuition that could foresee many things. Later, when a parishioner came to confess, merely kneeling before him, before saying anything, he already knew everything. When he died, the Vatican canonised him as a Saint, and the Don Bosco order, which continues to this day, was founded. Thus, thanks to the merit of giving, he rose to excellence.

The third case that gives rise to irritation and displeasure is when subordinates do not obey orders.

When we hold office and authority, we usually cling to our position. Clinging to position means we always think we have power, so those below must obey, even when that person is older than we are. If they do not obey, we feel offended, thinking they do not respect the office we hold. Meanwhile, we have taken that office to be our ego. So when those below do not obey, we usually feel upset and sometimes flare up with anger.

For example, when we have to go out, we ask a disciple to do something. When we return, it has still not been done. At that moment, as a teacher, we feel offended and flare up with anger. That is anger arising because others have offended our position and standing.

But note one thing: even when angry, we must stay calm. If we lose our temper and scold a disciple at length, they will lose respect for their Teacher. We must set a good example for our disciples. If we ourselves are still so prone to anger, how can we keep their respect for a lifetime? So when we see a disciple do something wrong or disobey, we must examine the fault from the mind, calmly inquire into the cause of the fault, and never scold them on the basis of the action alone.

In cases of stubbornness, disobedience, or indifference and inattention to the Teacher's instructions, we must regard it as an illness that needs to be corrected from within the mind. Such people have poor ethics, and later they will find it hard to accomplish great things. Thinking like this, we can avoid hot temper and rage. A person who does not know how to respect and obey is already wrong; if we are enraged and hot-tempered, we are all the more wrong, and it shows even more that we cling too heavily to our authority. So, in the course of practice, if we are given any office, we must set our intention so that, when something happens, we do not cling to that office and flare up.

For instance, someone is elected class monitor or head of the group. That person will think: I may be bound by this office, and once I cling to it, if anyone offends me, I will become angry. Understanding this, what must that person do so as not to cling?

Think that this office is not real and this body is like dust and sand, grass and rubbish. That is the "mantra" we should always keep in mind. When we put forward an opinion and meet another's opposition, we remain calm and explain gently, persuading them. Gradually they will understand and listen to our opinion. If anything is serious, we report to the senior teachers. That is the calm, proper attitude of a practitioner.

Besides these three cases, there is another that also gives rise to irritation and displeasure. That is when someone else cuts us off in speech or denies our opinion.

Thoughts and ideas are each person's "self". Most of us cling to them in this way. So whoever cuts us off or denies our opinion touches our ego. At that moment, it is not simply that an opinion has been denied; our honour too has been offended. It is this offence that makes us flare up. The Vietnamese proverb "cướp lời cũng như cướp của" ("cutting someone off is like robbing them") also reflects this view.

In sum, whenever the ego and the things that belong to the ego (that is, what is "mine", ngã sở) are infringed or offended, we flare up.

2. ATTITUDE AND CLASSIFICATION

a. Attitude:

A person in a rage usually has a fierce expression, a loud voice and rough actions. Sometimes, in extreme anger, people even use vulgar language and swear. Philosophers even hold that hot-tempered people are fools, madmen, because in a moment of rage they often make wrong decisions and reckless acts, without judging right and wrong. Anger can destroy a person's character.

The Buddhist scriptures say: whoever often flares up in anger will become ugly in the next life. The Buddha's saying proves very reasonable. For when angry, all our ugliness shows outwardly: eyes bulging, face wrinkled, mouth growling… frightening others. In the next life that becomes fixed, which is called a karmic result. In present life, when we look at someone's beautiful face, we think that in a previous life they were gentle and kind. And those who look fierce and ugly may be so because in a previous life they often flared up and that angry gaze has been carried over into this life.

Looking at outward attitude, we might think that angry people have a strong nature, but in truth their inner mind is weak. For mind and body are naturally opposite. A person with a strong body is one who can do much, is energetic and active, but the mind is not necessarily strong. A strong mind is a calm mind that is not easily provoked.

In dealings with others, we see that someone who does not know anger and remains calm in whatever happens is rather formidable, because within them lies a very great latent spiritual power. Such people have real mettle. If they are good people, they can be compared to Saints; if bad, their cunning and malice are beyond measure. By contrast, people who often lose their temper commonly look fierce but are not formidable.

Practitioners usually have no scheming or malice, but they too are not allowed to be angry. For anger is a sign of weakness in the mind. So note one thing: in the community, if anyone is still prone to anger, we should not let them do the Path's work alone. For their mind is still weak and feeble, and mistakes easily happen. People who are calm in every matter, who do not get angry when something happens and are not greedy when they come across wealth, are those who can do the Path's work alone without fear of mistakes. This is a valuable piece of experience, very necessary later in teaching disciples.

A calm person is one who can be trusted. That is why in life, calm people who do not lose their temper are always praised and cherished.

In Buddhism, calm without losing one's temper is a sign of mature practice. The requirement of not flaring up is very high for practitioners. For flaring up shows that practice is not careful and effort is not steady. But getting past anger is not easy. We must enter the first dhyana (sơ thiền) and break through the five hindrances in order to get past anger. What are the five hindrances?

• First is craving (or greed).

• Second is anger.

• Third is sloth and drowsiness.

• Fourth is restlessness (trạo cử, or restlessness and remorse).

• Fifth is doubt.

When we study Meditation (Thiền), we will analyse each issue carefully. Among the five hindrances, we need to understand restlessness (trạo cử) a little better. Restlessness, separated from remorse, means constantly fidgeting with the hands and feet. A person who is not steady, who often shifts and moves about, who is often hasty, is called restless. A person who practises meditation to the point of entering the first dhyana will feel unhurried, calm, relaxed and at ease, and no longer restless (hasty).

Related to this matter, we need to understand more about remorse. Remorse commonly comes in three kinds:

• One is the ordinary person who does not feel remorse. These are ordinary people who do not know wrongdoing and merit, so when they have made a mistake, they still show no remorse.

• Two is the person who knows how to practise, who knows wrongdoing and merit and cause and effect; when they make a mistake, they feel remorse for what they have done.

• Three is the practitioner who has made progress. Such people, though they know cause and effect, wrongdoing and merit very well, still feel no remorse when they make a mistake. This is the case of someone who has gone beyond remorse. When the mind has entered the concentration of the first dhyana, if they commit an error, they know it very clearly and know very clearly cause and effect, wrongdoing and merit, yet feel no remorse. They feel no remorse, but never repeat it. Their resolve not to repeat the fault is very strong. What is worth noting here is that when such people have made an error, their mind is at peace and not tormented by the error, but they never repeat it. That is the difference between them and ordinary people, who feel no remorse because they do not know cause and effect, wrongdoing and merit, and so go on committing faults.

To show that we are good practitioners, practising with progress, we never flare up in anger. Not flaring up is the result of firm meditative effort. But for the most part, because we do not emphasise meditative effort and are not determined to break the hindrances to enter the first dhyana, we may flare up every time something goes against our wishes. A person who has entered the first dhyana no longer has anger; whatever happens, they do not become angry at all. Saying they do not become angry at all means not even a speck of irritation remains, not even a tiny grain of dust. When one reaches that level, one has truly gone beyond anger. In other words, this is freedom from anger at the ideal level of one who has practised Meditation.

We need to understand that the four dhyanas and the four fruits differ. In the four dhyanas, it is enough to enter the first dhyana to get past anger. In the four fruits of the Sramana, a practitioner must reach the second fruit before beginning to have less anger, and only at the third fruit is anger cut off. So at the initial level, the four dhyanas are higher than the four fruits, and the first dhyana is higher than the first fruit.

b. Classification:

Anger comes in many kinds. We need to distinguish four psychological states of anger: flaring up, fierceness, hatred and sulking.

These states are fairly similar to one another. Besides them, we also meet another psychological state, malice. But malice does not belong to anger, so we do not discuss it in this lesson.

Of the four states above, flaring up is the simplest and very easy to meet. It is sudden anger, a loss of composure when we meet something against our wishes, which makes us react clumsily for a moment.

Fierceness is a forceful attitude that easily offends others. It is a psychological state similar to anger, but its nature is not anger. A fierce person is one with a strong personality and strong spirit and so often makes others afraid. Whenever something happens, their expression, gestures and words are threatening and crush the spirit and will of others, making them afraid. Fierce people also easily create karma. Sometimes, because of their fierceness, they inflict cruel punishments on others.

Flaring up and fierceness are very close. Both are attitudes of strong reaction. But fierceness is accompanied by a malicious mind that wants to harm people. Fierce people often offend others by cursing them viciously, sometimes beating them, and may even kill. Although outwardly a fierce person may sometimes seem quite ordinary and show no anger, their nature remains ruthless.

A true story, which even now still shocks many people when it is recalled, is the story of a young man who killed his friend. The young man was from Hải Phòng. Because of a quarrel and friction with a friend, he took a knife and went looking for that person to kill him. The other person found out and went into hiding. Unable to find him, he irritably went into a café to sit and drink, and by chance met a friend. This friend asked: Where are you going?

• I'm looking for that guy to stab him dead!

• You, stab anyone, with that look of yours! Here I am; would you dare to stab me?

No sooner had the friend finished speaking than he drew his knife and stabbed his friend in the belly.

When he committed the killing, clearly he was not angry and bore no grudge against that person at all. But because he had a fierce nature, he was easily provoked and could act ruthlessly.

For brutal people, malice shows right in the use of cruel punishments on others. Often malice and ruthlessness are not shown in outward attitude but cause extreme suffering to others. For instance, slander or speaking ill of others is not a simple matter. That too is an expression of ruthlessness and malice.

Hatred is also resentment and loathing, but nourished over a long time as vexation, with a malicious mind wanting revenge. A mind of hatred creates very great karma. We know that the thoughts of this life create personality in the next life. Each thought in this life shapes the person we will be in the next. So in the present, if we let hateful thoughts last, in the next life we will become a person who clings and hates easily. Once we have hatred in our heart, we will seek every way to harm people.

In life, there are cases that happen very simply. But if one has a hateful nature, one will nurse it and wait for a chance to take revenge. Like that, grudges pile up in this life. That is truly dangerous. So we should not nurture a mind of hatred. For a practitioner, the heart has even less room for hatred to reign.

Here one point must be noted: hatred differs from flaring up. Flaring up is merely a psychological state that happens momentarily, after which we are no longer angry. Hatred usually lasts, so every time we think of it we feel angry and loathing. If someone asks us about the person we hate, and we want to speak ill of them, that is a sure sign that we are nursing hatred towards them. Resentment lasting too long turns into hatred. Worldly people with great grudges often create great karma. Practitioners do not have a mind of hatred, but at a mild level they may still let sadness and anger drag on. We must observe carefully to dissolve it ourselves and must not nourish it.

Sulking is a mild degree of vexation, sometimes lasting if the person for whom we have feelings does not please us. The psychology of sulking is commonly found among women. For men, sulking appears only in deeper emotional relationships (for example, romantic love between a man and a woman). Because it involves feelings, sulking is not a serious matter.

So ordinary people are easily governed by all four of these states of mind. Of those four, practitioners may still be subject to flaring up and sulking. The states of hatred and fierceness we rarely meet. But if we do not control our mind carefully, we are still governed by them. Although flaring up and sulking are mild, we must still try to overcome them, because they reduce a practitioner's spiritual strength and diminish merit. So at all times we must stay calm and let go, without sulking.

Take the case where there are many people in the community but we love only one in particular. If that person does something that does not please us, we get angry. Such affection is too narrow. Narrow affection also makes us easily stirred to sulk.

3. CAUSE AND EFFECT

We often hear: A little spark of anger burns down a whole forest of merit. In life we do a great deal to make merit, but merely from one moment of flaring up, doing something excessive and committing a wrong, all the merit we have made becomes meaningless.

For example, a person, who knows not what he was angry about, sets fire to a house. The consequence is that not only his house burns but dozens of neighbouring houses are also reduced to ash. With only a little anger, that person caused very great karma. He himself did not know how to make merit and takes on a heavy wrong in addition, for having put so many people in the plight of living under the open sky; in which life will he finish repaying that debt? Anger can cause very serious consequences, so we must be extremely careful and must know how to restrain ourselves.

Sometimes even a single evil word makes us lose the effort of practice built up over a long time. That is the case of letting out oaths and curses that offend others while irritated.

There was a person newly ordained who, speaking of his ideal of practice, swore: If I enter the temple to practise and the circumstances are not decent, I'll go straight back. In fact he should not have spoken like that but should have vowed:

• Whatever the circumstances, I must keep my resolve to practise firm.

Such people do not last long in practice. Sure enough, that person afterwards returned to lay life following that unwholesome vow.

In some cases, out of sulking we abandon halfway the meritorious deeds we are pursuing, which means our wholesome karmic results in the future will also be cut off midway. Meanwhile, in our Buddhism, every vow and practice must reach the immeasurable, the boundless, the absolute. To practise Buddhism is to seek the absolute, to seek that immeasurable and boundless. Accumulating merit is the same. We must accumulate until there is no limit any more, must keep seeking life after life, and must never think it is enough.

If we are doing good work and, because of a moment of hot temper and rage, we do not continue, we have halted our merit and have not walked the true path of the Dharma. The Buddha is praised as the "Honoured One complete in both" (lưỡng túc tôn), his merit and wisdom boundless. Walking his path, we too must go on without end; whatever we do, we must do it to completion, until there is no limit.

For example, someone works in a charitable association. Because of disagreement and quarrels with the members, that person stops working. This too has karmic consequences in the next life. Corresponding to the time of charity work, that person enjoys a stretch of life that is glorious and happy. Then, suddenly, it all collapses and they return to being an ordinary poor person. This corresponds to the time when that person was angry and quit doing good work halfway. For when they abandoned the work midway, they caused no little difficulty to others. What they had become used to doing, everyone has to labour to start again from the beginning.

A lay Buddhist served on the temple support committee of a small temple in the countryside. Once, because of a quarrel and disagreement with everyone, he stopped coming to the temple and no longer looked after it. Seeing this, someone advised him not to act like that. For if he got angry and abandoned the temple's work, in the next life the career that was now halfway to success would collapse. A lay Buddhist must know how to practise forbearance in order to carry out their merit in full.

In the process of making merit, we do not always meet with favourable conditions. So someone who does meritorious work must be steadfast and persevering. Often we want to make merit but there are many difficulties and obstacles. Among them are others' attacks, opposition and humiliation. But as we determined from the beginning, we do not value our own honour but only the benefit of others. Therefore, even when we meet obstacles, we must still patiently endure and get through them in order to complete in full the merit we are pursuing.

Teaching the Dharma is the same. Although what is taught is beneficial to the listeners, we do not always meet favourable conditions. Sometimes we meet fierce opposition from others. Some people even devise all sorts of plots and plans to obstruct. Of course, there are also those who defend us, but what matters is that we endure and keep teaching. For we know that those who listen will benefit and will progress. Except where conditions are entirely unfavourable, in which case we may pause for a time, we must never abandon the work halfway because of wounded pride.

At all times, to pursue merit we must be very steadfast and firm in will, and must not be weak. When we say that those who often flare up are weak people, this is exactly what we mean. Once weak, we will not be able to make merit over the long term.

In truth, the degree of danger in losing one's temper is not great. But in terms of cause and effect, our hot temper will make lay Buddhists lose faith and make them dissatisfied. Some lay Buddhists are very strict in their judgement and always demand that we have firm ethics. If at some moment they happen to hear us flare up and quarrel, the easy-going lay Buddhists only complain, but the strict ones lose faith and gradually stop coming to the temple.

There was a simple matter, but because of a lack of restraint, we practitioners lost the faith and respect of lay Buddhists. It was the story of two monks sharing one cell who flared up over a small matter. One of them very much liked reading and, when he had free time, often borrowed the other's books to read. One day, discovering in the cupboard, besides Buddhist sutras, a few novels, and thinking that the other did not read them, he took it upon himself to take those books and use them to light a fire. The other came back furious, and this one was also irritated, flared up and growled: "I won't read your books any more." At that very moment a lay practitioner standing nearby witnessed it and was very dissatisfied. From then on he never came to the cell again.

That is precisely why, out of love for sentient beings, to preserve their faith and diligence, we must try to stay calm and must not flare up in any situation.

4. CAUSES

There are many causes that give rise to a hot temper:

The main cause is heavy clinging to self. Whatever touches our ego makes us upset and easily flaring up.

Another important cause is a conceited mind. Conceit always causes hot temper.

Another cause that is no less important is zeal for doing good and defending what is good. People who are zealous in doing good and defending the good also easily show a hot temper.

For instance, out of zeal for protecting the environment and supporting forest protection, when we hear news of deforestation we will be very indignant at those who are destroying the earth's life. Or we hear of people hunting whales, and we too flare up. For whales are sentient creatures with wonderful intelligence whom human beings really should protect.

Sometimes we show displeasure and contempt when we see rich and elegant people sitting in cars and throwing rubbish carelessly onto the street in an uncultured way… That is a state of anger arising from zeal to protect what is good.

We must be conscious of keeping a minimum of culture and civility when out on the street: not throwing rubbish carelessly; stopping at the white line at a red or green light and not crossing it… If practitioners show impatience, stand over the white line while waiting for a red light or throw rubbish carelessly when out on the street, people will doubt their observance of the precepts. Such a person does not keep discipline and order. Such things are small but belong to culture, and we must always be conscious of keeping them.

Another example: in a temple, someone is assigned the incense and lamps, tidying the main hall and wiping the Buddha statues. To show reverence for the Buddha, that person always cleans very thoroughly; tends the flowers, lights the incense and the lamps… carefully. But one day a companion carelessly walks across the main hall and leaves dirty footprints. Although his intention is very good, that person still boils with anger. That too is a case of losing one's temper out of zeal for doing good.

Or sometimes, witnessing others cursing our Teacher, we cannot bear it and react sharply. For the Teacher is a person of virtue who has raised and taught us in every detail. In our lives, apart from our parents, the Teacher is everything. Out of reverence for the Teacher, doing this to protect the Teacher is the right thing to do. But if we cannot restrain ourselves and let ourselves flare up, we have been governed by anger.

So we practitioners need to skilfully separate anger from zeal. Be very zealous in doing good, very zealous in defending what is good, but we must not flare up. This is very difficult but we must strive to accomplish it at all costs.

To be able to do this, we must determine where that anger originates. Does it come from our hatred of evil, bad, unwholesome people? Understanding the origin that gives rise to anger, in each case we will be able to respond properly.

For example, because we are earnest in protecting the forests of this earth, we commit the fault of hating those who destroy forests. Here, it is necessary to separate these two attitudes. That is, we are very zealous in protecting forests but vow no longer to hate them. If we have the chance, we must speak up to protect the forests. For people who are deluded, who do not know wrongdoing and merit and who continue to destroy forests, we feel pity for them, because they have done something wrong.

The matter of killing whales is the same. We zealously protect whales and speak out, but in our depths we do not become angry at or hate the people who kill whales; we pity them…

When we see others discarding rubbish carelessly on the streets, we zealously protect the civility of the streets but do not become angry or hateful, nor show contempt. Attitudes of contempt or angry hatred all make us fall into unwholesome states.

In the case of cleaning the main hall where our companion has left some dirty footprints, we should zealously take a cloth and wipe it again. Regarding those who offend the Buddha or revered Teachers, we should remember one thing: if the Buddha were still in the world and people cursed him to his face, he would not be angry. So too our Teacher; surely he would not be angry at being offended. So why should we be angry? Therefore, we too should not be furious, but only feel pained for those who, not knowing, have offended a true practitioner.

There was a head monk who always followed his own formula, as certain as two plus two is four. His view was: "As long as there is still anger, there is still delusion." And for him, delusion was synonymous with craving. So he was always vigilant towards the assembly in this respect. He would often test whether the monks still flared up by provoking and cursing them. Anyone who flared up when provoked by him, he concluded, still had craving. It sounds strange, but it is also a way for us to be vigilant: whoever still often flares up must be careful.

Another cause of our hot temper is the karmic result of belittling and criticising hot-tempered people. Earlier we were proud of ourselves as practitioners who were steady and calm, and so often belittled hot-tempered people. We know that, according to cause and effect, if we belittle and criticise people, the karmic result is that we commit those very faults. In this case, we will become hot-tempered people. Experience shows we should never criticise others' faults. If we know others have faults, we should think only of compassion. For what we belittle and despise will come back to ourselves.

5. PRACTICE

There are many causes that lead to hot temper. Each of us must see which cause we fall into in order to find a way to overcome it.

a. Where the mind is easily agitated and easily loses composure:

We must practise sitting meditation, controlling the mind and keeping the mind quiet second by second, minute by minute.

When we sit in meditation, we practise controlling the mind, at all times watching over and controlling our own mind. And when we enter the stage of controlling the mind, in life, whatever we do, we know only the mind. That is meditative concentration (thiền định). This is very strange: at that time we no longer pay attention to the work but only to our mind, yet the work goes smoothly by itself.

When the five hindrances are broken and we are about to reach the first dhyana, anger vanishes. Then our mind readily practises forbearance and no longer flares up. Later, when we come to the practice of insight meditation, we will study this matter more closely.

b. Where the mind is conceited:

We must practise the conduct of humility, always regarding ourselves as grass and rubbish, as sand and dust. The point to note most is when we begin to succeed, to have power, office and position, and to be revered by many people. That is exactly when the conceited mind appears, and we easily fall into the trap of flaring up.

Usually, when many people respect us, obey us and praise us, we feel we are important and that our words are truth, and at that moment, whoever says the opposite of what we think, we flare up. So we have become conceited. Just think: we are a symbol of Ethics, of compassion, forbearance and calm, and now suddenly we flare up; how will outsiders judge us? This is something to be truly afraid of. Each of us must be conscious of cultivating a humble mind in order to contribute to eliminating anger and hatred.

c. Where it comes from zeal for good:

Out of zeal for good, we become hot-tempered, but even if hot-tempered, we must continue to do good. Much good will create the merit by which we grow in virtue. The important thing is to try to separate zeal from hot temper. Be very energetic in doing good and defending what is good, but we must stay calm when the work does not go smoothly or when others oppose us, and not hate those who do wrong.

d. Where it comes from the karmic result of praise and blame:

When we have tried to change but still have not rid ourselves of hot temper, we must think that in a previous life we belittled someone as hot-tempered. Now we must do the opposite, that is, we must learn to praise people who are calm.

Among the ten vows of Samantabhadra (Phổ Hiền) there is the line: "First, to pay reverence to all the Buddhas; second, to praise the Tathagata." Praising the Tathagata means praising the Buddha, and can also be understood as praising the Saints. When we praise all their good qualities, gradually we will come to have those qualities. That is how cause and effect works. So we must know how to make use of cause and effect to train virtue and overcome our mistakes, here, to overcome anger.

Towards hot-tempered people, we also neither belittle nor criticise them but, deep within, silently pray for them to become calm. When we pray like this, they will be silently benefited in their spirit and will gradually become calm. But the wonderful thing is that sometimes, before they have become calm, we have already reached it ahead of them. That is cause and effect. When we want others to do good and pray for good for others, naturally we ourselves receive that good.

e. Where we have already flared up:

We must sincerely repent before the assembly. When we have lost our temper, we must go before the assembly and repent. Only then can we stop and not go on committing the fault.

There is a story about a true practitioner from whom we must learn. That person was wonderful, with the virtue of a Saint. All year round, people saw him never at fault or troubled by anything. Once, after working together with his companions, at noon he put on his robes, went to the dining hall, bowed to the assembly and asked to repent. Everyone was surprised and did not understand what was going on. It turned out that during the work something went against his wishes and he flared up inside. Of course, nobody knew he had flared up, because he never showed it on his face. So, though he had said nothing harsh and made no improper gesture to anyone, it was only an anger known to himself, yet he still regarded it as a fault to repent before the assembly. Such a person is truly admirable.

If we know how to repent, how to disclose our faults before the assembly, we will not commit them again. Thus we will overcome our habitual tendencies and our karma. The merit of disclosure before the assembly is very great. So we must remember that each time we flare up, we should go to the dining hall and repent before the assembly. Thanks to this, we will cut off the habit of anger.