All Puffed Up
Many years ago while living in Ecuador, I had the opportunity to visit the Galapagos Islands, a Pacific archipelago that it claims and protects—from the ravages of people. Home to a vast array of flora and fauna, the islands were made famous by Charles Darwin whose theory of evolution arose from his observations there. His findings had a radical impact on religion in the western world, and on the understanding of life itself.
To this day, people are not allowed to inhabit most of the islands. Tourists sojourn well away on boats and may only go ashore with licensed naturalists. The simple rule is “don’t leave anything, don’t take anything, don’t touch anything,” and it seems to be effective. The birds, animals, and marine life, having no fear of people, allow close-up views of their daily activities. We can learn a lot from them.
Among the many fascinating species of birds is the magnificent black frigate bird with a wingspan of over seven feet, allowing it to soar over the ocean for weeks since it cannot land in water. The male has a beautiful bright red throat pouch, which when in season he inflates to such an extent that it completely covers his front. It’s so huge, it seems he can barely move or see what he’s doing! Having attracted a partner, a chick is eventually hatched. The male helps for a few weeks until leaving the female to continue the nurturing.
This memory came to mind when I began thinking about writing an article on humility, which is an important mark of our Shin Buddhist teaching. On the surface, humility may seem like a difficult attitude to sell in a “me”-centered culture and society that laps up braggadocio and conspicuous displays of power. But we are not like male frigate birds that return to life as usual once their mission is accomplished. Instead, we human beings are addicted to puffing ourselves up, if only in our own minds at least. Yet the reality is that we cannot soar above the world or even exist without relying on everything outside of ourselves to support us and help us to flourish. The frigate bird doesn’t need to think about this—it just lives. We, on the other hand, create an entire fiction around who we think we are or who we want to be and spend our time trying to live up to it, lamenting it, or inflating it further. Not only do we miss the joy of being fully in the present moment because our attention is elsewhere, but we also miss the enduring sense of serenity and freedom that comes with the realization that we’re fine just as we are. No need for embellishment, no need to perfect the rough spots or add unnecessary color, no grasping that only gives rise to frustration, dissatisfaction, and disappointment.
Sono mama, just as we are, we float on the wings of interdependence that gives us all that we need and much more. Awakening to the delusion that anything about us is self-made, we can catch a glimpse of our foolishness. We are like the old cartoon buffoon rooster, Foghorn Leghorn, “I say, I say!” All that I am, I receive from Great Life. Sunshine, water, food, warmth; friendship, love, care, nurturing and learning; but also scorn, adversity and hardship—all and everything that come to me are part of me and I in turn am a part of the infinite web of all being. That’s what makes any of us great.
I admire Shinran because he could admit that he enjoyed fame and fortune and in the same breath recognized that he was just as deluded as any of us. For this, he humbly bowed his head and expressed gratitude to immeasurable wisdom and compassion.
We humans, the superior species capable of complex thought and deep emotions, are so arrogant and proud of ourselves. When places like the Galapagos are finally gone, will we be brought to feel humility and experience a true sense of gratitude for our lives?
Namo Amida Butsu.
In gassho,
Rev. Patricia Usuki