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Just a Fly in My Tea
Just had to share this short story I came across while searching for Buddhist stories for children.
http://online.sfsu.edu/~rone/Buddhism/Buddhism.htm
Just a Fly in My Tea
"On this particular afternoon a fly fell into my tea. This was, of course, a minor occurrence. After a year in India I considered myself to be unperturbed by insects -- by ants in the sugar bin, spiders in the cupboard, and even scorpions in my shoes in the morning. Still, as I lifted my cup, I must have registered, by my facial expression, or a small grunt, the presence of the fly. Choegyal Rinpoche, the eighteen-year-old tulku leaned forward in sympathy and consternation.
"What is the matter?"
"Oh, nothing," I said. "It's nothing -- just a fly in my tea." I laughed lightly to convey my acceptance and composure. I did not want him to suppose that mere insects were a problem for me; after all, I was a seaseoned India-wallah, relatively free of Western phobias and attachments to modern sanitation.
Choegyal crooned softly, in apparent commiseration with my plight, "Oh, oh, a fly in the tea."
"It's no problem," I reiterated, smiling at him reassuringly. But he continued to focus great concern on my cup. Rising from his chair, he leaned over and inserted his finger into my tea. With great care he lifted out the offending fly -- and then exited from the room. The conversation at the table resumed. I was eager to secure Khamtul Rinpoche's agreement on plans to secure the high-altitude wool he desired for the carpet production.
When Choegyal Rinpoche reentered the cottage he was beaming. "He is going to be all right," he told me quietly. He explained how he had placed the fly on the leaf of a branch of a bush by the door, where his wings could dry. And the fly was still alive, because he began fanning his wings, and we cold confidently expect him to take flight soon...
That is what I remember of that afternoon -- not the agreements we reached or plans we devised, but Choegyal's report that the fly would live. And I recall, too, the laughter in my heart. I could not, truth to tell, share Choegyal's dimensions of compassion, but the pleasure in his face revealed how much I was missing by not extending my self-concern to all beings, even to flies. Yet the very notion that it was possible gave me boundless delight."
-- Joanna Macy
http://online.sfsu.edu/~rone/Buddhism/Buddhism.htm
Just a Fly in My Tea
"On this particular afternoon a fly fell into my tea. This was, of course, a minor occurrence. After a year in India I considered myself to be unperturbed by insects -- by ants in the sugar bin, spiders in the cupboard, and even scorpions in my shoes in the morning. Still, as I lifted my cup, I must have registered, by my facial expression, or a small grunt, the presence of the fly. Choegyal Rinpoche, the eighteen-year-old tulku leaned forward in sympathy and consternation.
"What is the matter?"
"Oh, nothing," I said. "It's nothing -- just a fly in my tea." I laughed lightly to convey my acceptance and composure. I did not want him to suppose that mere insects were a problem for me; after all, I was a seaseoned India-wallah, relatively free of Western phobias and attachments to modern sanitation.
Choegyal crooned softly, in apparent commiseration with my plight, "Oh, oh, a fly in the tea."
"It's no problem," I reiterated, smiling at him reassuringly. But he continued to focus great concern on my cup. Rising from his chair, he leaned over and inserted his finger into my tea. With great care he lifted out the offending fly -- and then exited from the room. The conversation at the table resumed. I was eager to secure Khamtul Rinpoche's agreement on plans to secure the high-altitude wool he desired for the carpet production.
When Choegyal Rinpoche reentered the cottage he was beaming. "He is going to be all right," he told me quietly. He explained how he had placed the fly on the leaf of a branch of a bush by the door, where his wings could dry. And the fly was still alive, because he began fanning his wings, and we cold confidently expect him to take flight soon...
That is what I remember of that afternoon -- not the agreements we reached or plans we devised, but Choegyal's report that the fly would live. And I recall, too, the laughter in my heart. I could not, truth to tell, share Choegyal's dimensions of compassion, but the pleasure in his face revealed how much I was missing by not extending my self-concern to all beings, even to flies. Yet the very notion that it was possible gave me boundless delight."
-- Joanna Macy
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Comments
I think many Buddhists have the same non-harming attitude as Choegyal Rinpoche toward all life forms. I am indeed extremely fortunate myself to have some non-Buddhist friends too who would save a small insect in this way.
We all have the potential for loving kindness.
Dazzle _/\_
I smiled as she wished the two Daddy Long-Legs on their way with words of encouragement. For someone who doesn't claim to be a Buddhist, there are times when I wish I had more of her qualities!!
grackle
It's known as self-defense!!
I locate the fly in a room, and run round the house shutting all the other doors except the back door to the garden.... I then proceed to chase the fly out of the room, whereupon I close the door to the room it's just vacated, and stand in the corridor, blocking its way to the far end... it then flies into the kitchen, and as the back door is opposite to the kitchen door - the quickest way out for is, is straight ahead!
if I have to swat a fly, i'll invariably find it's full of eggs (yuk!) and so effectively I've prevented it from laying them....
I'm sorry, but the diseases they potentially carry far outweigh the benefits of letting them live....
But I do recite the Six-Syllable Seed Mantra at the time, and wish themn a more favourable re-birth...
she said...
practising Theravada....:rolleyes:
I deffinately need to memorise this one!
Grackle I forgot to mention that I was introduced to Palmetto bugs while in Georgia...I think those are too gross for me to even pay them any mind at all. I remember just turning my back to them and wishing them well.
You know, Frederica---some tenents of the Buddhism faith sometimes seem to me, not to be relevant to those of us living in Michigan during the hot humid summer months.Or did the Buddha not ever experience swarms of common house flies laying eggs that turn into maggots----or hoards of Black Flies hatching in the Springtime feasting on human flesh not to mention their cousins the mosquito...come to think of it...if we are not to harm even the smallest of sentient beings like the common house fly or fleas that carry plagues....didnt the Buddha teach us how to prevent disease then? I'm certain Mindfulness alone is not going to protect you from Lyme disease when you allow a Deer Tick to just stay and do its thing on your skin.
I think the point is to TRY NOT to kill. In one of Lama Surya Das' books he tells this story of founding a monastery somewhere in the US. They had bought an old building that was perfect for their needs but it was horribly roach, ant and pest infested.
They tried everything to come up with a solution to live there without exterminating the pests. The final straw came when the Health Dept. informed them that they would not issue an occupancy permit with an infestation of bugs and pests. Reluctantly he and the other monks gave in to the need to exterminate the pests.
One of the bravest things I have ever seen happened in the middle of a teaching at our temple one time. A large yellowjacket (a type of particularly nasty hornet) came buzzing through and was definitely drawing attention away from the teaching (not to mention distracting the teacher!). One of the guys in the audience got up, caught the bugger in his cupped hands, and carried him outside. For some reason, the yellowjacket didn't sting him, which in itself was a minor miracle! But I was suitably impressed!
Palzang
That's my wife... buys birdseed by the 10lb bag... and every morning before leaving the house, she speads about two cupsfull across the lawn. The birds sit on the electrical lines by the dozens and wait for her to deliver breakfast.
Once she walks back to the garage, they descend en masse. They don't stop eating as she drives off. On days when she can't perform this compassionate task, that pleasing duty falls on me.
You know, it is great to feed animals and such, but it's actually more than that. Jetsunma (my teacher) says that since she always feeds the critters, she never has to worry that she will go hungry. That's the way it works.
Palzang
He surely deserves to die!
Make me Ayatollah for a Day
And I'll make all Fly-Lovers PAY!
The second filthy excrement is uncovered
The pesky fellow is there, in a word,
Insisting right away to frolic on it.
And then quicker than I can even vomit
He lights upon a dear friend's potato salad
Which makes him sad and me quite mad.
Make me Ayatollah for a Day
And I'll turn the wrath of half
The world against the frisky Fly!
Or I die!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I much appreciated your aside about the palmetto bug. Try as I might I could hardly imagine wishing a palmetto bug well. The whole image gave me a good laugh. There smart also. I employed several different types of Roach Motels. None of mine would check in.
grackle