The Joy of Generosity: Joyful in the Beginning, the Middle and the End
Linnaea Bohn is a longtime Dharma practitioner who first met Ven. Chodron in Dharamsala, India in 1986. What fortunate karma that she now lives within an hour’s drive of Sravasti Abbey, along with her animal friends, Pyrenean Mastiff elders and elder feral cats. She shares her experience of the joy in giving.
Over the past seven years since moving to the rural Spokane area, I have focused on “preparing for death.”
Most of the focus has been on expanding acceptance of death using Atisha’s Nine Contemplations on Death (similar to the Nine-Point Death Meditation in the lamrim), the Five Remembrances from the Upajjhatthana Sutta, and meditations from the Maranasati Sutta.
I have also focused on using this remaining time to develop an open heart, and sharing time and love with others that are not a valued part of society: discarded, old, and special needs giant dogs, old feral cats, and old humans,
But there are also practical aspects of preparing for death, such as creating a will or a revocable living trust, setting up transfer-on-death instructions for bank accounts, beneficiaries for IRAs and ROTHs, an advanced directive for health, and finding health care proxies.
Possessions
Then there is the sorting out of possessions.
I felt resistance to this task since it meant taking time away from meditation, study, and volunteer opportunities. I reflected on how over our lifetime we buy what seems attractive to us at the time, yet near death we must get rid of it all, so our family and friends don’t have to after we die!
Then I thought, how can I make this task appealing to my mind? How can I find Joy rather than aversion?
I was in the storage room when I noticed four oxblood ceramic pots. Instantly my mind thought: Sravasti Abbey … because of the color. I envisioned the Abbey using them for planting flowers around the Buddha Hall.
Joy and delight
I put them in the car and took them to the Abbey when I was going for a teaching. Ven. Chodron liked them and thought they would be useful for the Abbey. I felt joy.
Back home, I noticed the large ceramic pot and the Chinese ceramic umbrella stand in the living room, both oxblood color. My mind was joyful just thinking about how their beauty might be welcomed at the Abbey. When Ven. Chodron saw their photos and said the Abbey could use them, my mind felt delight.
Weeks later I remembered the antique Chinese oxblood vases in the armoire. Again, I felt joy thinking that they might look nice somewhere in the Buddha Hall or somewhere else that was thought appropriate. There were also two turquoise ceramic pots that might be nice for the Tara room or the Tara garden, or wherever they might be wanted. When Ven. Chodron said yes, my heart sang.
Cleaning the ceramics, safely packing them in boxes and a crate, fitting them into the car was also a joyful event.
Driving them safely, carefully using side mirrors to see behind since the car was filled to the top, brought contentment. This was a special journey.
Receiving thankfulness from Ven. Chodron and other monastics opened my heart further.
Finding new homes
Where there was once disgust at having to sort out old belongings there was joy in the beginning, middle and end … and perhaps more joy will arise as others see the beauty created with these objects.
It was like rehoming foster dogs. I took care of these ceramics for years (the vases since 1982). They were ready to move to a new family to be cared for and to give humans joy. There had been no greed, no grasping, no holding tight when I saw and purchased them. My home became a small private museum. The simple pleasure I felt when I looked at them was temporary. That was enough.
But like most objects that are familiar, I didn’t notice them anymore. They were part of the scenery. Now, sharing them with others, finding them the best match to be their new caretaker feels more “beautiful.”
Pearls of joy
Forgotten pearls stored in a drawer were bought over 40 years ago because they were beautiful. I had never bought anything new for myself. The pearls made me feel more attractive, and I could afford them. When I lived in Hong Kong, I was asked to have dinner with very wealthy individuals and couples. Dressing well was part of the scene. I played the game of dressing up in these situations. I only wore the pearls three times.
Other pearls I bought because I could wear them daily if I wanted. They were not what my mom would call “my Sunday best dress” to be worn for special occasions only. I could bring these pearls on an airplane to wear for a wedding without worrying they could be stolen.
Ven. Chodron’s face lit up when I mentioned I had pearls. Again, I felt joy—joy that they could be used inside new statues, under the Buddha’s ushnisha (crown protrusion), and to adorn new deity statues. What a wonderful “new home” for what are considered precious gems.
Thank you Ven. Chodron and Sravasti Abbey for the opportunity to share these objects—a sharing that has brought joy, temporary, but deep joy none-the-less.
