Our greatest achievements 
begin with modest first steps.

One day, when a group of practitioners was discussing the challenges of practicing every day, one person asked another how long she chants.

“Twenty minutes,” she replied.

“That’s all?” the questioner, a little shocked, blurted out. What he hadn’t thought to follow up with was “How often?”

In hoping to alleviate his dismay, the respondent explained that she chants a few times a day. She revealed that in such a manner, she keeps the buddha-name more firmly in mind. Additionally, if she finds that she has more time, she will chant even longer!

The now intrigued questioner queried, “Why twenty minutes?”

To which, the person explained how she started with chanting five minutes a day. Accomplishing this initial goal, she felt confident that she could do more and so gradually increased the length of time, to now twenty minutes. From a modest goal, habits can be established. And then improved upon.

When setting a new routine, 

begin modestly.

Let’s say we’re new to meditation. In our newfound enthusiasm, we decide that we’re going to meditate thirty minutes every day. Our goal set, life quickly intercedes and excuses proliferate. I’m too busy. Or Got to clean this mess in the kitchen. Or I’m really tired. I’ll chant tomorrow. 

For whatever reason, we don’t meet our newly set goal.

But was it reasonable in the first place? Meditating for thirty minutes every day is most admirable. But very often not doable initially. What if, instead of setting that goal for thirty minutes, you set it for three minutes? Still too busy or tired? 

“You mean I only have to sit and concentrate for three minutes?” Even a busy or tired person can most likely manage three minutes.

By setting a modest goal, we have a much better chance of meeting it and feeling good. Plus, there’s an additional benefit. After chanting for three minutes, we may continue for a few more. But even if we don’t, we get to feel good at having accomplished our goal.

How can anger be real when in an instant

— “Poof”—it’s gone.

Living in a residential area, I found the oversized truck parked periodically in the guest parking area to be seriously annoying. That’s against the rules! Not a business area! Plus, it sticks out into the driveway!

Then one day, walking to my building, I heard a “Hello there!” It came from the smiling man approaching me from the next building.

“Can I help you with that box?” I declined his thoughtful offer, but we got to talking. A friendly conversation on a pleasant sunny day.

Then he said it: “That’s my truck.” 

My expression must have reflected my feelings for the looming vehicle, because he quickly added, “I don’t know where else to park it when I visit!”

He was sincerely distressed. And poof, my anger was gone. That quickly! That’s how insubstantial it had been. And how quickly we can change our thoughts when we understand a situation and quit spinning silly tales based on preconceived, erroneous opinions.

Now . . . what else can I poof into oblivion?

Lacking understanding in our practice,

we’re just going through the motions.

One evening, a man was watching his wife prepare an eggplant for their dinner. Watching her cut off the end of the eggplant and then throw it away, he asked her why she did so. She replied it was the way her mother had always fixed eggplant.

His curiosity growing, he suggested that they call her mother to find out the reason. When they called her mother, she replied that it was the way her mother had always fixed eggplant.

Growing increasingly perplexed, the husband suggested that they call Grandma in an attempt to figure out the reason behind what has apparently become a family tradition. When they asked, Grandma replied that the reason was simple—not having a large enough pan, she cut off the end of the eggplant to make it fit.

If we want to truly benefit from our practice, we need to understand the principles—and reasons—behind what we do. Otherwise, we might just be going through the motions.