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Envy

From The psychology of ethicsAbout 47 min read

Envy
Black-and-white ink painting: layers of mountains emerging from mist.

1. DEFINITION

Envy (in Buddhism called jealousy, tật đố) is hating those who are better than ourselves, those who enjoy more benefits than we do. Here we do not use the term "jealousy" because it sounds unfamiliar to outsiders; the word "envy" (đố kỵ) is more common and easier to understand.

The envious mind is very dangerous to our life of practice. Anyone who does not escape this mind will have the three evil realms open before them, and we do not know when it will drag us down. Because the envious mind is so dangerous, a practitioner must not take it lightly.

The most obvious sign of the envious mind is an uncomfortable feeling when we see others better than ourselves. For example, in class, seeing a fellow student who studies better than we do and gets better marks, we feel uncomfortable. When that discomfort makes us irritated and we feel we hate that person, that is envy. Of course, when there is irritation in the heart, envy is already latent in the mind.

Usually, while we are still student monks, everything is taken care of by the senior teachers and our benefits are all alike, so we are not concerned with anything and have nothing to compete or be jealous over. If there is any competition, it is only in marks. But when we go out to work and begin to have some benefits, we cannot avoid competition and clashes of interest with this person or that. If we do not know how to practise, the envious mind will then appear and we will hate those who are better than ourselves. This is an extremely unwholesome mind, even to be called an evil mind. A person with an envious mind cannot talk about liberation or enlightenment, and can only wait for the day of falling into hell. The envious mind is very dangerous and its consequences are truly terrible.

So although we do not yet shoulder anything great, we must prepare for this. Later, when we practise well and begin to have responsibilities, standing and influence over others, we must be careful. If we have not eradicated the envious mind, then when we clash with others and let the envious mind arise, it will be extremely dangerous.

By definition, envy is hating those who are better than ourselves. So what is that "better" about?

The first kind of being better is in talent. Talent is what makes people so often jealous of one another. For talent usually brings people honour and success. And of course, that success also brings material benefit. So if someone is better than us in talent, we naturally feel that that person has more fame than we do, more standing, more success, greater influence and will gain more material things. Meanwhile, the deepest psychology of human beings is that they only want to be ahead and never want to fall behind others, and so the envious mind arises.

For example, in the class we are studying in there will be weaker students and stronger students. This is the stage at which we often have envy over talent and learning. If we see someone who studies better, is trusted and praised more, and in our heart we feel irritated and uncomfortable, we know that we have an envious mind and must quickly eradicate it. If this feeling has not yet appeared much, we still need to be on guard, to prevent the envious mind from appearing later and causing dangerous consequences.

Envy usually occurs with people of the same generation. While we are still student monks, we do not envy the senior teachers, because they went before us, and it is only natural that they are better. At this stage we are only jealous of fellow students who are better than we are. When we grow older and hold some position, we begin to be jealous of the generation equal to ours. Of the younger generation we no longer take notice, except for those who studied later and began practising later yet show themselves better, showing that they have overtaken us.

In the environment of practice this problem is still mild, but in the world outside, people fight to the death, competing bit by bit, and create terrible karma. However, though not as fierce as in the world outside, the envious mind existing in the environment of practice makes the Dharma weaker and weaker, because there is no unity to create strength. In a country it is the same: if people have narrow minds and are often envious of one another, the country will be weak and cannot gather strength.

Looking at the history of our people's founding and defending of the country, we will see this clearly. In the years when the country was under foreign invasion, the whole people had one common enemy and so stood shoulder to shoulder, contributing manpower and resources to fight the enemy and win back the land. But once the enemy was driven out of the borders, people began to turn back to fighting over power, to jealousy, and to opposing one another. That is the envious mind. It is this envious mind that has made people unable to gather strength to build the country and develop it further; on the contrary, it has made the country weaker still.

It is all the sadder to say this, but it is the truth. We Vietnamese are still burdened with a very heavy envious mind. As soon as we see someone better, we feel uncomfortable, envious and resentful, and look for ways to criticise, oppose, plot against and bring down one another. Like this, the envious person themselves can do nothing, yet the talented person also cannot develop their abilities. The country, as a result, cannot develop either.

Meanwhile, though they are people just like us, Europe has made great progress in science and technology and built great works. The reason is that their thinking is very open. A scientific discovery may be the result of the tireless, devoted labour of many scientists. Or it may be the later person's continuation of the work of the one who came before. Our limitation is that we do not bring out the power of many people's intellect. In hardship we can join hands and unite our efforts, but in peace and comfort we fight and scramble against each other.

This has also entered the Dharma. In practice we see that jealousy and envy between one person and another, one group and another, one temple and another have divided the Dharma and prevented it from gathering strength. For example, a person who is a good preacher with great standing suddenly finds that in another temple a preacher has arrived from somewhere, also famous, loved and praised by many. Thinking that that preacher is competing for influence, standing and benefits with him, he feels uncomfortable, comes to hate him and looks for ways to criticise and attack.

It is this hatred, criticism and attack that causes suspicion and division in the Dharma and makes the Dharma weaker and weaker. What a pity! For if it were not for envy and mutual opposition reducing each person's effectiveness, those talented people, knowing how to come together, would be able to accomplish so many great things for the Dharma.

There are problems that ten unintelligent people can discuss and discuss and never solve. But truly intelligent people, when they come together and talk, will discover many very original things that none of them could have thought of alone. In some cases a single capable person is enough to solve everything, and the others simply follow. Meanwhile, many people meeting together may achieve nothing because they do not know how to respect one another's opinions.

If we who practise know how to value and respect one another, we can come together and build much that is good for the Dharma and beneficial for living beings. On the contrary, if we have talent but keep being jealous of one another for personal reasons, not only do we diminish our own talent and others', but we also cause loss to the Dharma and to living beings. In that case, not only does no one gain merit, but each also carries heavy karma.

In short, talent is a high value in a person, and so it is an easy starting point for people to scramble and be jealous of one another.

Another factor that can make people jealous of one another is money. When we mention money and wealth, we cannot help thinking of the "Bạc Liêu Playboy" (Công tử Bạc Liêu). He is a real figure, but around the truth of the life of Trần Trinh Huy (the Bạc Liêu Playboy), people have built up countless anecdotes. Among the stories about the Bạc Liêu Playboy is one of rivalry over money and wanting to prove oneself rich between the Bạc Liêu Playboy (the "Black Playboy", Hắc Công Tử) and Phước Georges (the "White Playboy", Bạch Công Tử), the foremost man of leisure in Mỹ Tho. In The Bạc Liêu Playboy: Truth and Anecdote, Phan Trung Nghĩa tells: "Once, when the Phước Chương reformed-opera troupe came to Sóc Trăng to perform, the White Playboy invited the Black Playboy to come and watch. After the performance, the White Playboy held a feast and drinking party with the Black Playboy... During the drinking, someone dropped an object under the table and bent down to grope for it in the dark. Seeing this, the White Playboy took out a peacock banknote (five dong) and burned it as a torch to light the search for the dropped object. Wanting to play a prank and also to show off before the two beauties, the Black Playboy struck a match and burned a bộ lư banknote (one hundred dong) as a torch too (in those days anyone holding a bộ lư note was already being watched by the "secret police")." The story spread as the anecdote "The Bạc Liêu Playboy burns money". Money can make people so jealous of one another that they reach such extravagance.

Black-and-white ink painting: a full moon over distant mountains, with a few birds.

In the life of ordinary people we also meet many cases of jealousy and envy over money. For example, all along we have lived in a luxurious two-storey house, imposing, which no house could match. Suddenly, one day, a three-storey house rises up next door. From then on, coming and going, we feel uncomfortable because our house is lower. Of course, their building a three-storey house like that has no effect on us and causes us no loss. But the uncomfortable feeling appears because we ourselves feel we have lost face. That is the human mind of competing.

It is the same for us who practise. Some people have not eradicated envy in the mind, so at times they too feel uncomfortable at others' success. Sometimes it is rivalry, competing over face, always wanting to stand out above others. In the lesson on Humility, when speaking about honour, we affirmed that a true practitioner does not make an issue of honour or face. But if we do not cultivate ourselves, we still regard it as important, and so feel there must be competition. That is what makes us afflicted and creates karma.

The third thing for which people are jealous of one another is status. In the world, this can make people scramble against one another regardless of life and death. For status and office, people can kill one another. In world history we have heard of assassinations of Presidents. Some came from political motives, but some were due to scrambling for status and benefit. Many leaders, because of clashes of interest, can still be assassinated by their subordinates. This is very dangerous.

Jealousy and envy over status easily lead people to unwholesome thoughts and actions. Films and books have spoken much about this. For example, in one film a President who was constantly the target of plots to overthrow him said, half joking and half serious, in a meeting with his senior advisers: "The President's death interests the Vice-President." For the American Constitution provides that if the President dies, the Vice-President takes over. The President's joke also hinted that every Vice-President hopes the President will die suddenly so that he can take his place.

It is the same in life. When holding some deputy post, people often pray that the head meets with misfortune so that they themselves can be promoted. So often, seeing the head in trouble, they say nothing but secretly rejoice. Or sometimes they secretly wish the person would vanish and no longer exist. Though it does not arise as action or become words, only lurking in the mind, that is a wicked mind. All of it comes from the envious mind, from competing and scrambling for benefits with one another. People with such a mind cannot practise, cannot be liberated or awakened.

Someone told how, when he was at school, because he was a good student who often helped his friends, he was envied by another person (the class monitor at the time), who looked for ways to harm him. That person slandered him in every way so that he was in trouble for a time. But later, nearly twenty years on, when he had become a monastic, he happened to read in a newspaper and learned that his former classmate, now a police officer, had been arrested and sentenced to sixteen years in prison for serious violations of the law. In the past he had always plotted to put others in prison. Now he himself had committed a serious crime and had to suffer imprisonment. Could it be that the envious mind harms a person so heavily?

We who practise do not go as far as having such wicked minds, but if we do not practise skilfully, there is still jealousy and competition with one another over position and office, and we also look for ways to bring each other down in a covert, low way unworthy of one who has left home. This is a very frightening case and so we must be careful.

For example, in the assembly, we are the one who began practising earlier and have more years as a monastic, but are not given the post of head of the assembly. That makes us feel irritated. That irritation is itself envy, which causes us to create karma. Within this scope, expressions of envy do not appear much. But later, when we go out to work and begin to hold some office in a temple, in the Sangha administration..., comparing and competing between this post and that will make us feel uncomfortable much more, and the envious mind will arise more readily.

In the Dharma, we sometimes also meet much envy and sniping from others when we enthusiastically contribute our abilities to common work. If we are not steady in mind, we may waver, become afraid and retreat. Cancelling meritorious deeds in order to avoid others' envy is also a failure. We should hold that if we can contribute, we should contribute enthusiastically, provided we are not arrogant and do not do it for fame and gain. Since practitioners still have envy, we should be careful and on guard, and not cause discomfort to those around us when we are able to contribute much to the community. And inwardly, at all times we hope for many people better than ourselves and never wish to scramble for anything with anyone, so as to avoid the thought of envy.

If everyone knew how to bring their abilities to contribute, how good this community, this society, or the Dharma would be! But precisely because envy still exists, many people dare not show their abilities. That is also a disadvantage, a loss for everyone and for the Dharma. Living in an environment with too much envy and competition, only courageous people do not fear jealousy and envy, and boldly bring their abilities to contribute to society and the Dharma. Of the two ways of living, keeping silent and doing nothing to avoid envy, and bravely accepting envy, we should perhaps choose the second. For if we feel uncomfortable whenever we clash with bad people, if we give up for fear of being resented and envied, this society will fall into the hands of bad people, which is very dangerous. Gentlemen and good people usually suffer from this ailment. So, living in an environment of competition, envy and jealousy of every kind, we try to stay on and try to endure so that we can contribute much good to the country.

Another cause that makes people envious is fame. We know that fame is quite illusory, yet people still scramble, compete and envy one another over it. Before he died, the Venerable Dongshan said: "I have a name in the world, a reputation in the world; who will take it away for me?" Hearing this, a monk stepped forward, bowed and said: "Venerable, please give it to me." Only then did the Venerable Dongshan answer: "My reputation is gone."

In truth he wanted to test how far his disciples had awakened to the Way. One who has awakened to the Way knows that reputation is illusory, not real, not something concrete. So when the monk stepped forward and said "Venerable, please give it to me", it meant that the monk understood this. How could the Venerable hand his disciple a reputation that was illusory to begin with? Answering "My reputation is gone" was the Venerable's way of praising the monk for understanding the meaning of reputation correctly. The ancients were truly profound. A single short sentence expressed the lofty wisdom of an enlightened one.

Fame is illusory and not real, so why must people scramble over it? The reason people cling so fiercely and fight over fame is that they do not yet have enough wisdom to see that it is illusory. We must practise so as to see that reputation is illusory, like that monk.

Scrambling for fame also depends on the level. For example, we have a very good mind and vow to go to some distant region to teach. After a long time of explaining and teaching, we are admired and loved by many, who resolve to practise the Dharma. Time goes on. Suddenly one day we notice that the number of people listening to our Dharma talks is falling. Asking around, we learn that another teacher has newly arrived from somewhere and also teaches the Dharma very well, many people like him and go there to listen. Hearing this, we feel uncomfortable inside, because this person's appearance both involves a contest of reputation and touches our benefits. If he becomes known, he will share the benefits and offerings which until now have been our monopoly in that area.

Black-and-white ink painting: a small boat on still water.

So although we practise very well, we still cannot control our minds and cannot eradicate envy. When someone appears who seems to be taking our benefits, our envious mind has arisen at once. Could it be that teaching the Dharma well and benefiting living beings is in truth only covering up our own latent ambitions, not truly for the sake of the Dharma and living beings? For if we truly loved living beings, when we heard that another person was teaching well, we should be glad. Here, though, we fear losing our standing, influence and benefits. That is exactly the envious mind. We must be careful about this. If we see living beings benefiting, we must rejoice, whoever it is that guides them to liberation.

Understanding this, from now on we must guard against the envious mind. Every night we must vow to liberate all living beings. Each time we eat, we say: "I vow to cut off all evil, I vow to cultivate all good, I vow to liberate all living beings." But we must be careful when we vow to liberate living beings to awakening and liberation. For sometimes that vow is only for our own benefit and reputation and not for living beings. That is, we want to liberate living beings alone and do not want anyone to do it with us.

So, depending on the level of those who are equal to or better than ourselves, the envious mind appears so that we strive to reach and to seize. At the low level (when we are still monastic students), if we have an envious mind of competition it is only rivalry with one another over study. When we grow up and go out to work, people are jealous of one another depending on the level and scope of their work. For example, if we are famous at the level of working within a province, we are not jealous of those famous outside the province, famous across the country, but only of those within the province. When our reputation has grown to national scale, we begin to be jealous of those famous at the national level, and no longer care about or envy people in the province. When we are famous throughout the world, we are not jealous of people in the country but of those famous in the whole world, like ourselves...

Companions are also a factor that makes people envy one another. When we see others with many friends while no one cares about us or visits us, we are secretly irritated. That too is envy.

Here we must understand that someone loved by many people has a cause. It is their merit, their affinity with living beings. Perhaps in a previous life they had affinity with many people, so now people keep seeking them out. As for us, perhaps in a past life we liked to practise in seclusion, so now few people know us. If we do not know the cause, we will give rise to envy. When someone asks about them, we will show irritation or often speak ill and criticise. This is very dangerous.

Another factor that makes people jealous of one another is beauty. This happens rarely among men but is common among women. For example, a girl looks in the mirror every day and finds herself among the most beautiful in the world, but when she goes out she hears only others being praised as beautiful, and she feels irritated in her heart. Conversely, if someone praises her as beautiful, she feels boundless joy.

So what is the cause that makes the envious mind appear?

The cause is clinging to self. All of human beings' afflictions and faults come from the original clinging to self.

However, clinging to self is only the general cause. In truth, besides clinging to self there are many other causes. Clinging to self gives rise to many ailments, among them the ailment of self-importance. This is a very strange ailment. It is not arrogance. Arrogance relies on one of our own strengths to see ourselves as better than others and to take pleasure in that superiority. Self-importance, on the other hand, is regarding ourselves as better than everyone even though we have nothing special about us. We often meet this in people who have no talent, fame or money but always like to put on an air of importance, always seeing themselves as above others.

Not wanting to lose to anyone, yet having no way of being above others, such a person often develops a hatred of those who are better than themselves. The reason is that they fear being at a disadvantage, losing benefits, losing influence. This too is selfishness.

So clinging to self leads to self-importance (not wanting to lose to others) and selfishness (wanting more benefits than others). Self-importance plus selfishness leads to envy (hating those who are better than ourselves).

There are also cases where arrogance leads to envy. Because of arrogance, we think we are better than everyone, but when someone more capable appears, we give rise to envy and hatred of them. Understanding this, we try to live a life of altruism, loving everyone, with no self-importance and no arrogance, always seeing ourselves as small and low so that the envious mind does not appear.

2. ENVY LEADS PEOPLE TO CREATE HEAVY BAD CAUSES

The first thing a person with an envious mind tends to do is to criticise, in order to bring down the standing of those who are capable and who get things done.

For example, hearing that some teacher is praised for teaching well and is loved by many lay followers, we at once criticise him and speak ill of him. People may not believe what we say right away, but their faith and respect for that teacher will be diminished to some extent. When they come to hear the Dharma, they no longer listen wholeheartedly. In this way, criticism to destroy one another's standing will make many other people lose heart. That is very harmful.

The consequences of the envious mind are very heavy, but the clearest cause and effect is that we will lose our aspiration for the Way. Some people practised very well in a previous life but now have lost their aspiration for the Way altogether, can no longer practise, and live with no home, no door, no wife or children, wandering from place to place... That is the cause and effect of speaking ill of others, of speaking ill of senior elders, and making lay followers lose heart.

Because words of disparagement and criticism divide people, make lay followers lose heart and contribute to the decline of the Dharma, we should not speak ill or criticise; on the contrary, we should praise more. For example, when lay followers come to visit the temple, we should praise the teachers in the assembly. If they ask about a particular teacher, we also look for his good qualities to praise. Of course, in this life no one can avoid shortcomings, but we avoid mentioning shortcomings and speak only of good points so as to help lay followers increase their faith in the Way. For when there are many good people in the temple, people will believe the Dharma is good. Moreover, such praise also creates very great merit for us.

Those who act as preachers gain merit very easily, because when they teach they are bound to praise the Buddha and the holy Sangha. A word they speak is heard not by just one or two people but by very many. So the merit they gain is lasting, for lifetime after lifetime. Praise easily brings merit. But if a preacher on the platform keeps attacking this person and speaking ill of that one, he will lose merit, will no longer be able to preach, and will no longer have reputation or standing. It is the same with those who write books. Writing books in praise of the Buddha and of the Sangha, they will enjoy merit lifetime after lifetime. In general, the merit of praising the Buddha may be enjoyed only in the next life, but for the karma of disparaging one person or criticising another we may fall right in this present life.

Constant criticism, attack and disparagement not only cost us merit and make others lose heart; worse, they also stop the Dharma (what is good) from developing. Whether the Dharma develops depends on the aspiration of each person, each temple, each practice group. If every person loses heart a little, if every person keeps being envious and criticising to bring down one another's standing, we will not be able to bring out our strength, and will cause the Dharma to decline.

Together with a wicked mind, an envious person can plot against others in a base way. In the world outside, human wickedness is truly dreadful. Because they compete with one another, they are ready to use any means to kill and harm one another. A practitioner may still have an envious mind but is not very wicked, because they believe in cause and effect. We do not even dare to kill a small animal, so how could we dare to harm a human being? Because we believe in and fear cause and effect and karmic results, over time the wicked mind in us also decreases considerably. However, if we do not know how to practise, do not control our minds and have no real ideal of liberation, then when there are too many benefits we who practise still scramble against one another and can still harm one another until we lose all standing and even destroy a whole career.

For example, in a certain region there was a teacher serving as chief representative who, wanting his own position to be secure so that no one could take it, sought to bring down from the start any capable teacher who asked to come there. That is envy, fear of clashes of interest, and also a form of plotting, although not yet very serious. If the wicked mind were stronger, they could slander someone as having committed a political offence, so that everyone would be suspicious and have them sent away or have the police arrest them.

We still remember the story of the Sixth Patriarch Huineng being given the robe and bowl. He received the robe and bowl from the Fifth Patriarch Hongren, but it had to be handed over secretly in the middle of the night. Then afterwards the Patriarch had to take him to the river to escape for good. Why was that? Because Patriarch Hongren did not trust the minds of the assembly. They still had far too much envy. Saying this, we also feel pain, not understanding why in those days, so near the Patriarch, people still had such a heavy envious mind. Perhaps they understood the principle of Zen very well, but their views about ethics were not yet firm, so they still felt envy when they saw others better than themselves.

Analysing the envy of the people in the assembly toward the Sixth Patriarch Huineng, we see several reasons. Patriarch Huineng was a lay person who had been at the temple only six months, just over twenty years old, while the others had left home at least twenty or thirty years before, with proper standing as monks and robes. Yet Patriarch Huineng was given the robe and bowl and was to hold the position of Patriarch in the future, a position so great that so many had longed for it. This was something they could not bear. Envy added to wounded pride made their force grow fiercely, so they chased after him to take back the robe and bowl. Their attitude was ferocious, ready to beat and kill to seize back the robe and bowl. That too is a wicked mind.

Black-and-white ink painting: a few upright bamboo stalks with drooping leaves.

Meanwhile the Venerable Shenxiu remained very gentle. He was a man of ethics. After presenting his verse and not having it accepted by the Fifth Patriarch, he stayed peacefully to look after the mountain. When the Fifth Patriarch passed away, he went on practising and teaching the assembly as usual, and later became very famous. His attainment may not have equalled the Venerable Huineng's, but he had genuine practice and very firm ethics. He too had spiritual attainment and entered concentration very well. When he was still in the assembly, everyone admired his talent and virtue. They were convinced that apart from him no one deserved to receive the robe and bowl. Indeed, he deserved that trust and affection. But the Venerable Huineng was so special, so extraordinary, that he took the robe and bowl, which those below him could not bear. The Venerable Shenxiu, though, remained calm, as if nothing had happened, because he trusted his teacher's choice.

The story of Attendant Ping of Mount Taiyang digging up the tomb of the Venerable Ming'an, his teacher, in the Admonitions of the Zen Forest (Thiền Lâm Bảo Huấn) also gives us a lesson about envy. At that time the Venerable Ming'an belonged to the Caodong school. He was a Zen master so famous that the Venerable Fenyang Shanzhao, of the Linji school, sent his own disciples there to study. We know that the Linji school was very famous and had little admiration for anyone. Yet at that time the Venerable Fenyang, the orthodox heir of the Linji school, sent his disciples to study with the teacher Ming'an. This proves that the Venerable Ming'an was very capable, and also shows us the ethics of the ancients. That is what true masters of the Way are like. They have no private interest. Reading this story, the more we admire the Venerable Ming'an, the more we respect the Venerable Fenyang Shanzhao.

When the two disciples of the Linji school came to study, the Venerable Ming'an praised them. He even said that the two would inherit his Dharma and make the Caodong school flourish. But the two declined, saying that the Venerable Attendant Ping was the truly talented one. That the two, who had awakened to the Way, praised him so shows that the Venerable Attendant Ping had also awakened to the Way. For in the Zen school, a person who has awakened to the Way needs only to use intuition to look at, or hear a few words from, another person to know at once whether that person has awakened. But the Venerable Ming'an did not acknowledge that Attendant Ping had awakened. He said: "Because it is not good in here, he will later die here." "Here" is in the palm of his hand, which the Chinese also call the "tiger's mouth". That is, he meant that the mind of the Venerable Attendant Ping was not good, so he would later die in the tiger's mouth.

Time went by. Before he died, the Venerable Ming'an said to everyone: "For ten years after I die, nothing will happen. But after ten years Taiyang Shan will strike me." Having said this, he passed away sitting at ease, for he had attained the Way at a high level. Afterwards his body was placed in a stupa in that same seated posture. The Venerable Attendant Ping succeeded as abbot, and was called Attendant Ping of Mount Taiyang. But for some reason he grew more and more envious of his teacher's stupa. It seemed that he felt the stupa, looking majestic and beautiful, standing imposingly and presiding over that position, would not let him flourish. Time went by, and the envy of the Venerable Taiyang Shan toward his teacher grew greater and greater. Ten years later, feeling that his envy was ripe, he said: "The stupa of the late teacher, standing here, is an obstacle to me. Let us dig up the stupa, cremate the body and enshrine the ashes." The assembly refused, but he still ordered the stupa dug up. The astonishing thing was that although he had been dead for ten years, the body of the Venerable Ming'an was still fresh and rosy, and his beard and hair had even grown long. This is very remarkable. Other masters who pass away may keep an undecayed body for ten years, but it will dry out. The body of the Venerable Ming'an was still as fresh as if alive, so even when firewood was piled up it would not burn. The spiritual power the Venerable Ming'an left behind was truly tremendous! Seeing this, Taiyang Shan took the axes used to split firewood and hacked at the head and body of the Venerable Ming'an until it was shattered. Then he poured oil on it and burned it until the body was destroyed.

The act of taking an axe to the body of his own teacher, which had not decayed in ten years, was something no one could bear. In great grief, the rest of the assembly ran to report it to the district magistrate. Fortunately this official had long revered the Venerable Ming'an. Hearing the news, he was furious and sent soldiers to strip off Taiyang Shan's robes and expel him from the temple, no longer allowing him to be a practitioner. The karmic result thus came at once, and he had exhausted his merit to be a monk. Afterwards Attendant Ping changed his name to Huang Xiucai and went to live elsewhere. But wherever he went he was not employed. One day, at a fork in the road, he was mauled to death by a tiger, exactly as the Venerable Ming'an had said before.

Envy joined to a wicked mind can make people do such earth-shattering things.

At a milder level, a person with an envious mind often makes petty trouble in order to bring down another's standing. For example, studying together, seeing that another does better and gets higher marks, the envious person will find a way to take a few pages from that person's work and tear them up. The other person, not knowing, still hands in the work and so does not receive a high mark. Or, seeing a fellow monastic whom the abbot is fond of, out of envy they feel irritated. When that person's turn to cook comes, they sabotage it by adding extra salt to the soup pot, and so on...

In Sand and Pebbles there is a story of a blind man and Zen Master Bankei. Zen Master Bankei taught the Way in a temple. At the temple gate there was a blind man. Although he could not see other people's faces, the blind man had a very sensitive ear, and merely from the sound of a voice he could judge another person's state of mind and know whether they were sincere. He once said: "When I hear someone praising another's success, I also hear the secret in their heart, which is jealousy. When I hear someone offering condolences over another's suffering, I still hear in their heart the secret of a gloating joy." He said: "Only when Zen Master Bankei praises someone for something, or congratulates someone on something, do I hear his wholly sincere heart and his joy. When I hear him express sadness at someone's sorrow, I hear that sorrow completely."

Because he practised meditation and controlled his mind firmly and carefully, Zen Master Bankei had a very sincere love for people and no envy. The story is meant to praise that virtue of his.

Such is the human mind. Seeing someone less than ourselves we are glad; seeing someone better, even if we open our mouth to praise, there is still irritation in the heart. Or seeing someone better than us in trouble, the mind rejoices, either openly or secretly.

For example, women often compete with one another over beauty. Seeing another praised as beautiful by many, this woman also praises her, but inside she is resentful and irritated. That is insincere praise, because the heart is not truly glad to see someone more beautiful than herself. Or hearing that someone with more talent and fame than we have has had an accident, we do not dare to show our joy openly, so our mouth still tuts "How pitiful", but inside we are overjoyed because from now on he cannot go preaching any more and cannot be ahead of us any more. That is the secret mind of human beings.

From deep within, we must try to control our minds so that when we see another's success, we regard it as our own success; before another's joy, we are glad as if it were our own joy. So in the Prayer we recite daily there is this passage:

May I be happy

When I see someone succeed

Or create blessed merit

As if I had done it myself

We recite it like this to eradicate envy and to give rise to a mind of rejoicing in another's success.

The envious mind has a terrible karmic result. Perhaps we still remember the story of the Venerable Losaka Tissa suffering the karmic result of hunger and want. In the time of the Buddha Kassapa he was an abbot of a monastery at the edge of a village. He was also gentle; in the whole village he was the only one living in that temple. One day an Arhat elder came to the village and met a landowner. After talking, seeing that this Venerable had such wisdom, the landowner invited him to take a meal and then said:

  • "Venerable, at the edge of this village there is a monastery. Please go there to rest, and I will come to visit you in the afternoon."

The Arhat went to the monastery and met the abbot. After they had greeted each other, the abbot asked:

  • "Have you taken your meal anywhere yet?"

The Venerable answered:

  • "Sir, I took my meal at the village headman's house."
Black-and-white ink painting: a plum branch with small blossoms.

That afternoon the landowner brought rice, food, milk and a number of other items to offer to the two of them, and bowed to ask to hear the Dharma from the Arhat. Seeing this, the abbot felt very uncomfortable.

After bowing and listening to the Dharma, the landowner bowed and invited them both:

  • "I invite you both to take your meal at my house tomorrow noon."

All that night the abbot could not sleep, because suddenly someone from nowhere had come and taken away some of his lay followers. The next morning he rose very early to go to the landowner's house but did not call the Arhat to go with him. In fact he did knock twice, very softly, knocking but deliberately not letting the other hear.

When he arrived, the landowner asked:

  • "Where is yesterday's Venerable?"

The abbot answered:

  • "Whatever he ate yesterday, he must still be full; I called him but he did not get up."

The remark was light, but it was criticism and slander, giving the listener the impression that the Venerable had eaten his fill and slept on, unwilling to practise. After the meal, the landowner set aside a separate bowl of food and said:

  • "I beg you, sir, to take this back for him on my behalf."

On the way, he came upon a heap of glowing embers that people were burning, and poured the whole bowl of rice into it. At that time, in the monastery, the Arhat already knew everything. Seeing that this man was so envious, he put on his robe, took his bowl, flew up into the sky to another region to live, and did not return there.

Returning and not finding him, the abbot was startled and thought: "Perhaps this one has attained the Way and knew my envious mind, so he left and did not stay. Oh, in my foolishness I have committed a wrong." After that he was sorrowful and full of remorse, and then died.

When he died he went to hell for several thousand years, burned there. When his hell karma was exhausted, he became a hungry ghost; for five hundred years he never ate a morsel except the dead foetus that people now and then expelled. When the five hundred years as a hungry ghost were over, he fell to being a dog for five hundred lives. During that time he was never given proper food, and ate only when people got drunk and vomited outside. That dog grew thin and died. Afterwards he rose to be reborn as a human. But in the place where he was born, the whole village constantly met with calamity. He was driven out of the village and lived wandering and destitute. Later he met the Buddha (who was then still a Bodhisattva). He taught him and he followed the Buddha, thereby reinforcing his affinity with the Dharma.

In his final life, in the time of the Buddha, he was born in a fishing village. On the day he was born, no one could catch even a small fish, the reservoir stored for the village ran dry, some houses in the village suddenly caught fire, and then the king suddenly ordered the arrest of the whole village... Misfortunes came one upon another. So people thought that someone unlucky had appeared in the village and that they must find a way to remove him. At first they divided the village into two independent halves that no longer had dealings with each other. The half without him prospered again, while the other half went on suffering misfortune. So that half was again divided in two. In this way, in the end only his family was left. They drove that family out of the village and the village returned to normal. When they were driven out, the husband drove his wife out of the house too. Since he was her own flesh, born from her womb, the mother could not bear to cast him off and so tried to work to feed him in hunger and hardship. When he could toddle off holding an alms bowl, she sent her child to beg for food and, at home, ran away. So from that day he began a life of hunger and hardship, standing on his own, living like a ghost eating mud. Often he could get only a few grains of rice that people had dropped on the washing platform to eat to ease his hunger. When he met the Venerable Sariputta, with his eye of the Way the Venerable Sariputta saw that this person had an affinity with the Dharma and could practise despite very harsh karma. He asked:

  • "Where are your parents?"

  • "Venerable, my mother suffered so much because of me that she abandoned me."

  • "Would you like to leave home?"

  • "How wonderful, Venerable! If only I could be allowed to leave home!"

So the Venerable Sariputta took him back and shaved his head to ordain him. Although he practised and attained Arhatship, throughout his life he was never able to eat his fill until the day he died.

The karmic result of envy is terrible and frightening like this. Because he was envious of the Arhat, he was tormented for who knows how many lifetimes.

In life, people who are often envious suffer many karmic results. If we have no talent and are always jealous of others, in the next life we will have no talent. Seeing someone succeed, we criticise and are irritated; in the next life success will not come to us and whatever we do will fail. So those who often fail at their work do so for many reasons, among them a past life in which they had too heavy an envious mind. In addition, a person with an envious mind suffers another karmic result: being abandoned by their relatives. For if we criticise so that people leave one another and hate one another, we will suffer the karmic result of living in loneliness, hated and abandoned by our own kin. And a heavier karmic result still is falling into the three evil realms: hell, hungry ghosts and animals.

3. GUARDING AGAINST THE ENVIOUS MIND

The envious mind brings such terrible karmic results, so we must guard against it and not let it arise. But how do we guard against the envious mind?

In the near sphere: toward fellow students in the same class and the same school, and especially those of the same level, at all times we sincerely wish our fellow students to be better than us. If we happen to study poorly, we also wish our fellow students to be better than us always. In this way we will have merit and gradually will study better. If we always want to be above others, we will become weaker and weaker.

When we see a fellow student loved by many people (winning people's hearts), we should not deny it but should find what strength has made them so. They may have some merit from the past and some strength in the present. We look for our friend's strengths so that we can learn from them, and absolutely must not disparage or sneer.

In the case where a fellow student has standing and is given duties by the seniors (looking after incense and lamps, receiving guests, administration, supervising the assembly...), we must wholeheartedly help so that our fellow student completes the assigned task well. We must not secretly sabotage out of jealousy.

After some time of practice, seeing our fellow student advance in practice, sit in meditation for long, teach well..., we must rejoice and genuinely respect them. For a person whose wisdom and power of concentration are growing is also our teacher.

Toward fellow students who are weaker, we must teach wholeheartedly, hiding nothing, so that they can rise above us. In our innermost mind we must always wish our fellow students to be better than ourselves. If we see a fellow student whose handwriting is still poor, we show them how to practise each character so that gradually their handwriting becomes more beautiful. Or seeing a fellow student write sentences that are not yet correct or fluent, with punctuation used arbitrarily..., we must guide them to relearn the basic rules of grammar, and so on. In general, we always teach our fellow students wholeheartedly so that they advance.

In the far sphere: (when we have grown up and do great work)

This is the time when the envious mind most easily finds conditions to arise. For now our relationships are wider and our benefits greater. So we must be even more careful to guard against the envious mind.

When we hear that some preacher teaches the Dharma well and is admired by many people, we must sincerely find that person's strengths in order to praise them and learn from them. Sometimes we and that person do not share the same viewpoint, but if they are admired, praised and extolled by many people, we must also look into the reasons and sincerely learn. Before others' strengths, we must bow and show respect. Only in this way can the envious mind be eliminated and we can make progress.

Toward practitioners who have spiritual attainment, we must sincerely respect them. For they are the saints of the world, a support for living beings. Being a good preacher is not as good as being one who has truly attained concentration and awakened to the Way within the mind. They are truly the support of living beings. That person may be younger than we are and have begun practising after us, but if they have attained spiritual results, then deep in our innermost mind we must regard them as our teacher and respect them wholeheartedly, and must not give rise to envy. If we send respect to the saints, later we too will attain many good things.

On the other hand, we must introduce those with talent and virtue to many people so that we can learn together. For example, Mr Như Sanh is a Hòa Hảo follower, but the books he wrote are very good and profound. When teaching the Dharma, by introducing his book to many people we have done a good thing in creating a connection between the Hòa Hảo and Buddhism, even though all along these two religions have had no goodwill toward each other. In this way, by sincerely praising what is good in others, we will contribute to making this world more united.

Toward those whose positions are higher than ours, we try to lend a hand to help them fulfil their responsibilities. Deep in our innermost mind, we do not seek followers, money, status, fame... for all of it is illusory. Because we do not seek, we do not feel that our benefits are clashing with anyone's and no envy arises when we see others better than ourselves.

In short, the envious mind is very frightening. So we must love everyone sincerely and always wish everyone to be better than ourselves. These are the principles for eradicating the envious mind.