Remaining silent requires less energy 
than watching every word.

Of the three karmas—thought, speech, and action—speech is the one that gets us into the most trouble. It’s so easy! Open mouth; say whatever comes to mind. And therein lies the problem. Oblivious of the countless infinitesimal thoughts streaming through our mind, we’re so caught up in events and our feelings that we’re not even aware of what we’re about to blurt out. Upon hearing what we just said, we may well regret our words. Or at least wonder what possessed us to voice them. Once again, we resolve to monitor our thoughts before we embarrass ourselves further. And once again, we are amazed at the energy it takes to do this. It’s exhausting. Plus, by the time we decide how best to say something, the conversation has moved on. How much easier it would be to not offer every rising opinion, to speak only when necessary, and to keep our mouth in what is often the safest position—closed.

Come away from your mistakes, 

neither uncaring nor overwhelmed by guilt,

but determined to do better in the future.

How often have you sighed: Why did I say that? How could I have acted so callously? If only I hadn’t! Guilty thoughts can haunt us for the rest of our life, sneaking up on us, unwanted and unexpected. We just don’t seem able to let go of painful memories of the harm we did. But we need to. If not for our own sake, we need to for the well being of others. Being guilt-stricken over personal idiocies doesn’t make us better people. Think you’re repaying a karmic debt? Who are you repaying it to? Who is benefitting from your guilt? Somehow, someway, we need to release our guilty feelings. It’s not that we no longer care about what we did. We just care more about what we can do from now on. And the best thing we can do is get to the Pure Land because from there, finally, we will be able to find and help all those we harmed. So much better than drowning in guilt.

Do not compare one person to another.

Everyone is different—a combination

 of karmic causes and consequences.

Throughout our past lives, we have planted incalculable seeds, some of which have matured in this lifetime. Far more have not. For example, when you gave fearlessness, you planted the seeds for a healthy, long life. But what if those seeds have not yet matured? It is very likely you will be undergoing health problems, maybe even severe enough to affect your lifespan. And so, you suffer. Now, imagine I come along and, observing your problems, compare you to a healthy person we both know. Not only will I have not minded my own business, I will have thoughtlessly spoken out when I had no right to and increased your suffering. Not to mention failed utterly to give fearlessness. There goes my future good health! So, instead of comparing one person to another, celebrate the past deeds of the fortunate one and encourage the other to plant more such seeds for a better future.

Sincerity 

is a mind without wandering thoughts.

Dictionaries define sincerity with words like “genuine” and “honest.” Let’s apply these to a teacher with a disinterested student. She genuinely wants to help him appreciate the day’s lesson. Now let’s add a Buddhist aspect, defining sincerity as the sharply focused mind, the mind free of wandering thoughts. Our teacher now not only genuinely wants to help the student; she single-mindedly focuses on helping him. Her mind does not wander off to her weekly yoga class or tomorrow’s exam. By concentrating, she brings together her energy, experience, and mental acuity. Her mind does not distractedly flit from idea to idea, almost devising a way to help only to have it slip away as serendipitously as it came. She is better able to recall earlier problems he had and past conversations and methods she used to inspire him to become more excited and try harder. Such is the power of a sincere mind without wandering thoughts. 

We do the right thing 

not because we expect to change the world, 

but because it’s the right thing to do. 

Let’s face it; few of us have the position or power to sway others. But that’s all right because the absence of power cannot only help free us from egoistic expectations; it can also save us from karmic retributions incurred from improperly wielding it. How much less fraught with adverse retributions, and easier it will be, to decide we’ll do something just because it’s the right thing to do. No one need even know. We can focus on implementing our plans without wasting energy worrying about others’ reactions. Our happiness, our feeling of accomplishment, will come entirely from doing the right thing. If others notice what we did and change for the better, excellent. If no one notices, excellent. We will have successfully reinforced our natural desire to do what is proper—not because we harbor unrealistic hopes—but for the pure joy of doing the right thing.