Killer Country
The Endless Further Mar 18 2015
“Some people call me an idiot, but I know who I am. I am The
Killer.”
– Jerry Lee Lewis
Last weekend I watched all six episodes of The Jinx, HBO’s documentary on millionaire real estate heir Robert Durst. No doubt, you’ve heard about this guy in recent days. He is a suspect in the 1982 disappearance of his wife, Kathleen; in 2003, he was acquitted of murder charges in Texas, despite that he admitted dismembering the victim; and Saturday in New Orleans he was arrested in connection with the 2000 execution-style murder of his friend Susan Berman here in Los Angeles. It’s an engrossing story, and in a warped sort of way, Durst is a highly interesting person.
What is it about killers that fascinates us so? Macbeth, Jack the Ripper, Lizzie Borden, Charles Manson, Hannibal Lecter, and my all-time favorite, Dexter Morgan – fictional or real, we love ‘em. Can’t get enough of their stories. Perhaps it is because they commit the foulest of all deeds, the taking of life. Whatever it may be, I am not going to try to analyze it here. Instead, I would like to recount for you briefly the story of the Buddha and a murderer named Angulimala.
The story of Angulimala (“finger garland,” or “necklace of fingers”) comes from the early sutras. Angulimala’s father was the Brahmin minister to the king of Kosala. The story goes that when Angulimala was born, a “constellation of thieves” appeared in the sky, prophesying he would become a robber. And as it often happens in tales like this, the prophesy was fulfilled, in a manner of speaking.
Angulimala was sent to study in Taxila, in present day Pakistan, where one of the earliest universities in the world existed. He became the student of a Brahmin teacher and he excelled at his studies. Other students resented Angulimala’s brilliance and they made up stories that caused the teacher to believe Angulimala was evil. The teacher demanded that Angulimala provide him with a gift before he would be allowed to “graduate.” The gift the teacher requested was 1,000 fingers, each taken from a different victim. The teacher figured that that Angulimala would get himself killed during the course of collecting the fingers and thus he would be rid of this evil student.
Evidently, Angulimala had no problem accepting this grisly assignment. He became a highwayman, hiding in the forest and robbing travelers of their fingers. Unfortunately, the travelers died as a result of these holdups.
The people in the area asked the king of Kosala to capture Angulimala. Angulimala’s mother went out to find him and warn him that the king had vowed to hunt him down. The Buddha set out to find Angulimala, too. Buddha had divined that Angulimala had collected 999 fingers and needed only one more.
When Angulimala saw the Buddha enter the forest, he rushed out to murder him and take his 1000th finger. He took out his sword, raised it and chased after the Buddha but could not catch him even though the Buddha was walking at a slow pace. Eventually, Angulimala became wore out and shouted for the Buddha to stop. Buddha turned and calmly said, “Angulimala, I have stopped for all time, forsaking violence; but you have not stopped, you have no restraint towards living beings; that is why I have stopped and you have not.” So moved was Angulimala by the words the Buddha spoke to him that he immediately renounced his murderous ways and became a bhikkhu.
The story is about the transformative power of compassion as well as the redemptive power of the Buddha’s teachings. Transformation is always possible. Any person, regardless of how many negative acts they have committed, can change and live a more positive life. Compassion is more powerful than punishment. Angulimala could have been captured, imprisoned or executed. Instead, he changed and thus was able to benefit far more beings than those he previously harmed. If you accept the doctrine of karma, there is also the notion that he was able to change his karma and improve his circumstance in future lives, so he would not come back to kill again.
Most importantly, we should always remember that every life matters. There is an old Buddhist saying that even a murderer loves his mother, meaning that every person, no matter how wretched and depraved, has some good in him or her somewhere. Even Charles Manson is entitled to the basic dignity of life.
It’s a safe bet that most people who know Robert Durst or know about him believe he is guilty of at least three murders. Whether he is or not, it doesn’t alter the fact that even Robert Durst has a Buddha-nature.
Spam
spam
( Retrieved Start Where You Are : A Guide to Compassionate Living http://www.amazon.com/Start-Where-You-Are-Compassionate/dp/1570628394 )
If you ask people whom you consider to be wise and courageous about their lives, you may
find that they have hurt a lot of people and made a lot of mistakes, but that they used
those occasions as opportunities to humble themselves and open their hearts. -Pema
Chodron
Don’t Misinterpret Compassion and 'Idiot Compassion'! By Pema Chodron
Don’t impose the wrong notion of what harmony is, what compassion is, what patience is,
what generosity is. Don’t misinterpret what these things really are. There is compassion
and there is idiot compassion; there is patience and there is idiot patience; there is
generosity and there is idiot generosity.
For example, trying to smooth everything out to avoid confrontation, not to rock the
boat, is not what’s meant by compassion or patience. It’s what is meant by control. Then
you are not trying to step into unknown territory, to find yourself more naked with less
protection and therefore more in contact with reality. Instead, you use the idiot forms
of compassion and so forth just to get ground.
When you open the door and invite in all sentient beings as your guests, you have to drop
your agenda. Many different people come in. Just when you think you have a little scheme
that is going to work, it doesn’t work. It was very beneficial to Juan, but when you
tried it on Mortimer, he looked at you as if you were crazy, and when you try it on
Juanita, she gets insulted.
Coming up with a formula won’t work. If you invite all sentient beings as your guests
while just wanting harmony, sooner or later you’ll find that one of your guests is
behaving badly and that just sitting there cheerfully doing your tonglen and trying to
cultivate harmony doesn’t work.
(For an introduction to the practice of tonglen, see: All-Embracing Compassion-The
Heart-Practice of Tonglen)
So you sit there and you say, “Okay, now I’m going to make friends with the fact that I
am hurting and afraid, and this is really awful.” But you are just trying to avoid
conflict here; you just don’t want to make things worse. Then all the guests are
misbehaving; you work hard all day and they just sit around, smoking cigarettes, drinking
beer, eating your food, and then beating you up. You think you’re being a warrior and a
Bodhisattva by doing nothing and saying nothing, but what you’re being is a coward.
You’re just afraid of making the situation worse. Finally they kick you out of your house
and you’re sitting on the sidewalk. Somebody walks by and says, “What are you doing
sitting out here?” You answer, “I am practicing patience and compassion.” That’s missing
the point.
Even though you’ve dropped your agenda, even though you are trying to work WITH
situations instead of struggling AGAINST them, nevertheless you may have to say, “You can
stay here tonight, but tomorrow you’re going, and if you don’t get out of here, I am
calling the police.” You don’t really know what’s going to benefit somebody, but it
doesn’t benefit anybody to allow someone to beat you up, eat all your food, and put you
out on the street.
So “Don’t misinterpret” really gets at the notion of the big squeeze. It’s saying that
you don’t know what’s going to help, but you need to speak and act with clarity and
decisiveness. Clarity and decisiveness come from the willingness to slow down, to listen
to and look at what’s happening. They come from opening your heart and not running away.
Then the action and the speech are in accord with what needs to be done, for you and for
the other person.
We make a lot of mistakes. If you ask people whom you consider to be wise and courageous
about their lives, you may find that they have hurt a lot of people and made a lot of
mistakes, but that they used those occasions as opportunities to humble themselves and
open their hearts. We don’t get wise by staying in a room with all the doors and windows
closed.