Can We Make the World a Better Place?
By Rev Master Seikai, July 2026
I wrote the following article in 2014. Now it seems like the question is all that much more urgent with the passage of twelve years. Much has changed and at the same time, nothing has changed: we have the same problems only they’ve gotten that much bigger. On the scale of the global environment, it’s clear that the reality of climate change and global warming is going to play itself out and that there is little anyone can do at this point to mitigate that. On the scale of you and I as individuals, we have to address the question from a spiritual perspective, keeping in mind that it is only on that scale that we can affect any change, making the world a better place for ourselves and those around us. And we have to be content with that and not trouble ourselves over all the things we think we ought to be able to do or think should be done to “save the world”. The article has been abbreviated from the original.
My reason for posing this question is because it is one of those existential questions which lurks in the background of the mind and influences our thoughts and behaviors. Many people, especially the young, want to make the world a better place by helping to reduce social injustice, hunger, poverty, environmental degradation, and the many other causes to which a person can belong. I am not so much hoping to give a final, authoritative answer as wanting to explore the question and its many ramifications.
Also lurking in the background is an assumption that most Buddhists, or you, the reader, genuinely would like to see the world be made better, at least in some achievable ways. But first, let us question that basic assumption. Does the world need improving, or is it just fine the way it is? This is not the easiest question to answer. I have read several accounts of Buddhist practitioners—whether monk or lay person makes no difference—who have had deep experiences of seeing the world anew and seeing it as essentially perfect. Not a thing out of place! And so, if that is a view of reality that one might arrive at in Buddhist practice, does that mean that all the effort we expend in trying to make the world better is all a futile effort? If the world is already perfect as it is, why go to any trouble to try to make it better? Or could it mean that there are two very different ways of viewing the world which might seem to be mutually exclusive, but in reality are not?
I’ve had numerous experiences of seeing the world as fine just as it is. The Scripture of Great Wisdom, which we recite in our morning service, says the following:
“O Sariputra, form is only pure; pure is all form—there is, then, nothing more than this, for what is form is pure, and what is pure is form; the same is also true of all sensation, perception, mental activity and consciousness.”
I’ve always taken this teaching of the Buddha to heart and endeavored to see the world through this vision, a view which is without any discrimination or judgment. It is a beautiful vision, one which sees into the true essence of everything, including oneself. The only problem is that one cannot remain indefinitely seeing things this way, or at the very least, seeing things this way without it being accompanied by what is called discerning wisdom. Because out of the basic purity (or emptiness) being spoken of in the scripture, there emerges the complexity of the world, and causality. Because of causality, we experience pain, suffering, unhappiness and all the other human experiences which motivate one to find solutions and ways to bring suffering to an end—or to make the world a better place. From a Buddhist perspective, the very concept of making the world a better place centers on bringing suffering to an end, as opposed to creating some sort of ideal existence for ourselves.
So, in answering the question of whether the world needs improvement or whether it is just fine the way it is, I have had to conclude that both are true simultaneously. And it is necessary to have the flexibility of mind to move back and forth from one view to the other, sometimes turning on a dime, so to speak. And of course there are many things about the world which we know we cannot hope to change one iota, and therefore we need to learn a deep acceptance of things as they are, which, in and of itself, is a profound religious practice. Deep acceptance, however, is not apathy or resignation about the way things are; rather it is more like a foundation from which one can step off into doing things to improve the human condition, or the condition of the world. Because acceptance is the foundation, we can approach life without too much in the way of idealism and high expectations, which always seem to involve frustration and disillusionment.
Before we can go any further in deciding whether or not we are able to make the world a better place, I think we need to ask the question: can I make myself a better person? This, too, is one of those existential questions which has two sides to it. It has, on one side, the view which arises out of sincere religious practice, that I, a human being endowed with physical form, five senses and the capacity for perception, rational thinking and consciousness, am just fine the way I am. I am void, unstained and pure. On a very deep level fundamental to being alive, I am complete and need no improvement. However, having the kind of personality which is prone to viewing myself as inadequate, I personally have to keep coming back to this pure vision of myself, again and again. It is pretty much necessary in order to maintain sanity, a modicum of self-esteem, and a positive outlook on life.
The other side of it is that all of us have flaws, and few people would argue that they are perfect and have no room for improvement. I know I can make myself a better person because I have done so. But making myself a better person has been a project, as it is for everyone who tries, because I’m complicated and have deeply embedded views of the way things are and of myself. That has never stopped me from making as full an effort as I possibly can to improve myself. The essence of the vow to make oneself a better person is never to give up; I know that so long as I make the best effort I can make, things continue to get better. My Zen teacher, and her teacher before her, both stressed that just continuing to put one foot in front of the other and not giving up is the essence of practice.
So, it follows that if we, flawed human beings, can improve ourselves even a little bit, and recognize that such improvement is a worthwhile endeavor, perhaps we can change the world as well. Is this too big a leap to make? One aspect of this question is the recognition that it is extraordinarily hard to change anyone else besides oneself. Probably everyone tries to change someone else at some point in their lives: husbands their wives or vice versa, teachers their students, parents their children. As adults, we usually come to the conclusion that trying to directly change another person is a lost cause. People are, by and large, stubborn, and only change anything about themselves if they decide they really want to do so—and even then it’s a tough job.
It’s a beautiful thing when a person succeeds in changing some difficult aspect of their behavior or personality. As a monk, I’ve seen it done many times. By virtue of making vows to live by a high ethical standard and practicing wholeheartedly, people succeed in tackling and changing really deep-rooted and often painful things within themselves. It takes persistence, devotion to practice, a positive attitude, never giving up, and above all a willingness to change. As I mentioned, I have made a lot of positive changes in myself over the course of time and would not still be wearing monk’s robes if it weren’t the case. If enough people did the same, would it change the whole world? People who’ve researched this question have concluded that the answer is, definitely, yes.
The First Noble Truth of Buddhism is simply the acceptance of suffering. Acceptance, as I mentioned earlier, opens the door to doing something about what is wrong in our lives. So, can we in theory apply the same principle to accepting the collective suffering of the world, including environmental degradation? I don’t know how to answer this question, in part because at the time the Buddha lived, around 600 BCE, the population of the earth is estimated to have been around 400 million people, there was not an environmental crisis, and so he was addressing human problems on an individual basis, i.e. what any one person can do to reduce their own suffering. It may just be that now, with the population of the earth in excess of eight billion, the collective karma of just that sheer number wipes out all individual attempts to bring the crisis under control. Nevertheless, does that mean we should despair and give up trying?
I personally don’t think so. Despair, in and of itself, is an unsatisfactory state of mind. Being in despair does definitely communicate something to others around us and does not make anything better. So, I draw a distinction between putting aside magical thinking and accepting hard-to-accept truths, and despairing that there isn’t a thing we can do to make the world a better place. If we are in fact going to make a difference in the world, we have to first believe it is possible and, for our own peace of mind, put effort into doing so.
We are of course venturing into the whole psychological side of how environmental crisis affects human beings; whether we can deny that it is a problem, or accept it and strive for a solution; or despair that it is inevitable; or accept it and just do what you can, however small and insignificant the act might be. I believe that we are all affected by the state of the whole earth, and that we cannot pretend that we are not at all affected, however subconsciously those effects might manifest. This is to say that, with respect to Buddhist teaching, I don’t think it is a question that we can avoid any longer. Just because the Buddha himself didn’t talk about it—in his time it wasn’t a reality—doesn’t mean that, today, as Buddhists, we should avoid the whole matter.
Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, who worked with people facing death and wrote extensively on the subject, noted that people pass through five stages in the process of accepting the inevitability of death: a) denial; b) anger; c) bargaining; d) depression; e) acceptance. We can look around and easily see that there are climate change deniers digging their heels into the earth, fighting the whole notion. We can see people who are angry about the state of the world, demanding that someone—governments—must take action. There is plenty of bargaining going on, such as the exchange in carbon credits, which is one way of putting off the real solution of not burning fossil fuels anymore, period, so that we do not continue to increase the level of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere.
Depression is a normal human response to loss, and what we face today is the loss of nature, of humankind living in balance with nature. Things have drifted so far out of balance that now a great many people who are of a sensitive nature feel a visceral sort of unease about the world which can manifest as diagnosable depression. Or it might be more subtle than that, but no less real to the person who feels it. As conditions in the world deteriorate, depression will most likely become pandemic—virtually everyone will suffer some form of it. But we also have the capacity to move beyond it into acceptance.
Eventually, we will have to arrive at a frame of mind in which we can accept that although humankind has dramatically altered the earth’s biosphere, and this process is most likely irreversible, still, we should try to do what we can to make it better. There are of course, different realms in which one can operate in order to achieve this: there is the intimate, personal level of spirituality, in which every one of us can make a positive impact on the world, however minute and unmeasurable it might be, just by engaging in practice and working on ourselves; there is the external, impersonal, macro-scale level in which none of us can reasonably expect to make any impact, given the world’s current human population of eight billion. We can join or support causes which seek to diminish hunger, social injustice and environmental degradation in the world, and those are all worthy causes, but whether it will be enough to stave off a calamitous future for humankind owing to overpopulation and climate change remains to be seen.
Regardless of whether we can actually accomplish anything externally to make the world a better place, there remains our own interior attitude and relationship with what it going on in the world, which is what the five stages of accepting the inevitability of old age, decay and death address. (“Old age, decay and death” is a Buddhist turn of phrase, which dovetails nicely with this process.) Denial is what we engage in when we just aren’t ready to face the hard reality of something difficult. We do it all the time when confronted with some unexpected turn of events or things not working out as we had hoped: we deny the reality of what has happened and we fight it. In fighting it, naturally we put ourselves in an angry state of mind and being. Anger is the predominant characteristic of the human realm, along with our capacity for love, sympathy and empathy. Because we can mentally project into the past and the future, we desire that things be better than they are now, and from desire there comes the chronic frustration of things being not as we want them to be. Then we get angry.
The world right now is a study in this human phenomenon on an all-inclusive scale. As a species, we desire so much, we want and need so much luxury, so much material wealth and comfort, so much of everything—and having it all only blinds us to the hard reality that the world cannot support a high standard of living for eight billion people. It is already stretched too thin. So right now we have one foot in the denial stage and one foot in the anger stage of coming to grips with it. As a species, we have too many conflicting factions, and far too much collective anger to actually work in harmony towards solutions to the problems of humankind.
Still, there are those who claim that real progress is being made in the world. I imagine it is a matter of how you measure these things, interpret the data, and then arrive at a conclusion, but one school of thought holds that slowly but surely we are improving the overall quality of life in the world, and that widespread conflict is on the decline worldwide. I would like to believe that this is true. With the advent of super-sophisticated electronic gadgetry, it is now possible to be aware of and read about things that happen anywhere in the world within a few hours. This greatly expanded availability of information might make it appear that things are really going to hell in a hand basket, but it might just as easily be that this is only an illusion created by the onslaught of information about the world in general.
Part of the difficulty in assessing whether or not the state of the world is improving is that there are so many different currents of human activity going on at once, just like the world’s oceans. There are warm and cold currents, prevailing currents and intermittent currents; there are phenomena like El Nino, which occurs every so often and the reasons for that are not really understood. Parts of the world that have, in the past, seen a lot of violence and upheaval do quiet down, and vice versa. Buddhism recognizes that there is constant change—anicca—and that is simply a fact of existence.
Looking with far-sighted vision helps us to develop acceptance of the way things are right now. Moving through our list of the five stages culminating in acceptance, we deny, we fight and become angry, we bargain, we try to buy our way to peace and security, we try to insulate ourselves from the constant change inherent in everything, but all of it, given enough time, fails. All our attempts to change the way the universe operates fail, just as surely as the reality that good can and does come forth from everything which happens, given enough time.
It is also a fact of human existence that the older one becomes, the harder it is to whip up enthusiasm for a cause, no matter how noble or righteous; we tend to leave it to the young to do so. I’m told that the thinking of young people today tends toward a dark outlook of the future, that there isn’t much anything anyone can do to stave off some sort of apocalyptic wave of change sweeping over the world, even if it happens in slow motion. Of course, they may be right—few people can see into the future. But all of us can still make conscious choices about how we think about the future, and our overall attitude of mind in the present, which is what matters most. If we feel depression or despair about the state of the world, OK, fine, allow yourself to experience that but then, rather than indulge in it any further, just stop and look at it. Where does it come from? Where is it likely to lead? Is there any merit in despair or would I be better off making an honest attempt to let go of it? If I am not going to feel despair about the world, what would be a more appropriate, positive thing to be feeling?
All that we customarily talk about within the context of Buddhist and Zen teaching, when held side-by-side with the larger context of whether life as we know it can and will continue for much longer, takes on a slightly altered significance. Can Buddhism expand to include a much broader contextual basis, i.e. the state of the earth in the 21st century? In the event of cataclysmic events which might come to pass in the future, will Buddhism serve as a metaphorical life raft for people, enabling them to endure hardship better than they would otherwise?
I would view such questioning as part of a much larger process which individuals enter into and for which they must find their own solutions, and then on a larger scale yet, a process which all of humankind desperately needs to be engaged in if it is going to survive. Collectively, we have arrived at a place where a serious questioning process needs to be entered into by everyone, given that the stakes are as high as they are. But this would require moving beyond the anger, bargaining and, ultimately, the grief, depression and despair that so many people feel.
Meanwhile, what we can do involves a combination of internal and external endeavors. I have found that the practice of accepting of things as they are is one of the most powerful ways of cultivating an overall state of happiness and well-being for myself. Acceptance means that all possible outcomes to a situation are OK. It requires putting down our deeply held views and opinions about things, an act of letting go. Whatever happens will be in accord with the laws of the universe, including cause and effect—the law of karma. Maybe there will be a calamitous future for everyone on earth: so be it. But, having accepted that things may indeed turn out this way, we are free to act in ways which are beneficial to other living beings.
Personally, I can’t not do all the small things I do to make the world a better place: recycling, composting, gardening, picking up garbage and, above all, teaching the Dharma. It no longer matters to me whether I have any discernible impact, although I’ve been told at various times that I have a positive impact on people. One of the little bits of home-grown wisdom from my youth that I have remembered is “wherever you go, leave that place just a little better than when you arrived.” That’s what I try to do.
If being an activist in the environmental movement is your way of taking action, there is nothing about that which is inherently in conflict with Buddhist teaching. If remaining in the background and quietly supporting various causes, as I do, is your way, then more power to you. We should not fool ourselves, however, by thinking that not doing anything has no consequences whatsoever. All courses of action, including total inaction, have an effect. In other words, there is really no such thing as pure neutrality in this matter; we passed beyond that point years ago.
In summary, I have a number of conclusions I have arrived at, as follows:
- Being alive, we cannot pretend that we are not part of the problem or the solution. Just being alive partakes of both, and so it is incumbent upon everyone to take some kind of action.
- In order to fully arrive at a place in which we can actually do things in our lives which have a positive effect for all living beings, we first need to cultivate a deep level of acceptance of the way things are and then proceed from there.
- The practice of meditation is probably the most powerful tool for affecting change, both internally for oneself, and externally for all other beings on this earth.
- As the Buddha taught, greed and desire for too much, followed by frustration and anger at not getting what we want, followed by bitterness, apathy, despair and all the other delusive states of mind, are what actually lie at the root of humankind’s collective ills on all levels.
- We have freedom to choose how to respond, being either part of the problem or part of the solution. It will never be completely black and white, but we can always make the effort to do our best.
- Wisdom is arrived at through trial and error, making mistakes and learning from them. On the largest scale, that of humankind, that is exactly the process we are engaged in.
If the Buddha were alive today, I can imagine he would have a lot to say about the environmental crisis we face on this planet. Even in his time, he advocated for having a minimal impact on the environment, and a number of rules were created for monks in that regard. To do the least harm possible and to practice compassion for all living things are the basis of Buddhist thinking. To extricate ourselves from our current quagmire would require having these principles practiced not just by a few, but on a universal scale. It remains to be seen if humanity can move significantly in this direction soon enough to prevent calamitous events from occurring. Meanwhile, every individual who puts these basic principles into practice in their life, I believe, helps the whole world.
I found this (unattributed) quote: Your problem is that you equate your purpose with goal-based achievement. The Universe isn’t interested in your achievements—just your heart. When you choose to act out of kindness, compassion and love you are already aligned with your true purpose. No need to look any further.
The Walk for Peace
By Rev. Master Seikai
Last October, a group of about 15 Theravada Buddhist monks, under the leadership of the Bhikkhu Pannakara, left their home temple in Fort Worth, Texas and began walking what became known as the Walk For Peace, a journey of 2,300 miles. Their intention in undertaking such a long pilgrimage, through the fall and winter months, was not to protest, not to try to convert anyone to Buddhism, not to achieve anything other than show people that peace is something to be lived. As is traditional for Buddhist monks in Asia, the monks received offerings of food, medicine and shelter along their path, but did not ask specifically for anything. Their undertaking was completely unpretentious. After they had finished the walk in February, after 110 days of walking, the Venerable Pannakara wrote the following:
In the early days of this journey, our steps were welcomed mostly by the silence of the road. Very few people knew of the mission then. Often, the only sound we heard was the rush of cars passing by as we walked—drivers moving quickly toward their destinations, unaware of the prayers being offered with every mile. The roadsides were quiet, offering only a few curious glances from afar. Yet, we continued steadily, step by step, with a deep and quiet determination.
Whether there were crowds to greet us or not, whether anyone noticed our presence or passed us by, the purpose remained unchanged: to plant the seeds of peace and mindfulness in every heart we encountered, even if it was just one person at a time.
We did not walk for recognition or applause. We walked because peace is meant to be shared, and because every single step—witnessed or unwitnessed—carries its own sacred meaning. In those early, solitary miles, we learned a beautiful truth: Peace does not need an audience. It simply needs to be lived, practiced, and offered.
From those quiet beginnings on empty roads where only the sound of passing traffic accompanied us, to the moment we stood before thousands at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington DC, the journey taught us that every step matters—especially the ones no one sees.
May this be a reminder for your own life: even when no one is watching, even when the path feels lonely, or when it seems like your efforts go unnoticed—keep walking. Keep choosing peace. Your steps matter more than you know.
May you and all beings be well, happy and at peace.
As the monks progressed across the South, their walk slowly gained national attention and became a fixture of social media, attracting a wide viewership despite the lack of publicity. Dozens, then hundreds, and eventually thousands of people lined the road to pay their respects to the monks, give and receive flowers, ask for healing and blessings, and be a part of something real. The fact that they had a dog, named Aloka (meaning ‘light’ in Sanskrit) who trotted along with them for most of the journey, pushed an emotional button for many people and probably provided a way to connect with a group of people who live outside the mainstream of American society.
Above all, the monks exuded peace, focus and mindfulness. The fact that people turned out in droves speaks to a great hunger that exists in America for these things, a longing for a public expression of pure good, as a counterpoint to the constant expressions of negativity and hate which the whole nation has become acclimated to. The monks were there simply to show that peace is not an idea, it is a reality to be lived by means of mindfulness, compassion and good will. The Venerable Pannakara would often give short Dharma Talks at places where the monks would stop in the evening, and he repeatedly said that they were not bringing peace; rather they were showing people how to cultivate it themselves. He stressed that living a simpler life than Americans normally live would be necessary, and that would have to start with creating some separation between yourself and your lover: the cell phone.
Just walking is one way to practice this. Many of the people I see on the street are talking on their phones while walking and while driving. They are distracted from mindful walking (and driving) by their phone conversations. Walking, in and of itself, is a simple activity which lends itself to mindfulness. Some people like to get out and walk in order to “clear their head” and of course it works. We spend so much time in our heads, thinking, planning, worrying; now we’ve added a powerful new addiction, the hand-held computer. But just walking with your whole being, being aware of your breathing, being aware of your feet and the surface you happen to be on, is a wonderful way to cultivate mindfulness. Anyone can do it, but you have to remind yourself that you are just walking, and bring yourself back to that when the mind gets distracted and busy doing something else.
Recently, Rev. Phoebe wrote the following in one of her weekly emails: Practicing peace begins, as all practice does, with ourselves. To cultivate an attitude of peace we need to not fight… not resist or resent what is happening. This means allowing the fear and sadness that may arise to simply be acknowledged and accepted. From that place of inner peace wise action will suggest itself; acceptance does not mean passive “rolling over”. Then, practicing peace will become acting in a wise and kind manner, soothing upsets, comforting those who are in pain, supporting those who are in need. Even when circumstances are not peaceful in themselves, we can find a small safe place in our heart where peace exists. This place is a refuge and needs to be cultivated so it does not get buried or forgotten.
We like to think that if only everyone would practice peace, the world would be at peace, but of course we also know this is a dream. But the fact that not everyone practices as we do does not mean that we should despair and not even try ourselves. Peace exists when it is practiced, a tiny place of peace is a reality and makes the world a better place.
Finding that small, safe place in our heart where peace exists is the key to practicing peace. We need to awaken a longing within ourselves to find that still place in the center of our being; this usually includes a growing suspicion that much of what gets said in this world is untrue or distorted, and for that matter, that much of our own thinking is untrue. How can the mind question itself? Because we have the ability to reflect upon ourselves, and to allow a deeper mind than our conventional thinking mind to be part of our inner reality. Intuitively, something within us knows that there is something more, something deeper than the noise of this world; the problem is the noise is so loud it drowns out the quieter, deeper mind. Thus, we have to make an effort to create some quiet and simplicity in our lives, and to stick with it, even when times are difficult.
Right now this nation and the world as a whole have entered into a period of turmoil. We know intellectually that change is a constant, and yet when we are confronted with change that we don’t like, we resist it. But the Law of Change is the final authority in life. We cannot dam it like a river, we cannot really change its course, however hard we may try. We are left with a choice between a futile struggle against change versus learning how to accept, accommodate, and flow with change as it happens. How else could we possibly be able to flow with the tide of change unless we had an inner refuge, a still place to which we can retreat no matter what our external circumstances may be?
In Buddhism it is taught that being at peace would be our natural state of being if we did not entertain greed, anger and delusion in our minds. This means we shouldn’t look for peace from external circumstances, but work at letting go of the mental clutter which gets in the way of it. I have two acronyms which I use a lot to pull my mind up out of dark or critical thinking: LAMP and ALF. LAMP stands for Loving kindness; Acceptance; Merit; and Patience. Just reciting those four words to myself clears my mind right away and brings it back to the naturally peaceful state that we can all find. First you have to be aware of what your mind is doing, and there is no shortcut for that; you simply need to practice meditation and learn to observe your own mind as it is. Using a mantra, or in this case, an acronym, adds an extra layer of mental activity to just sitting still and observing. It is what I would call skill-in-means for brain management; sometimes we just need something positive to focus on and return to a hundred times when the mind is distracted. And, as I said, right now we are going through a period of turmoil and need something to help ourselves reconnect with the peaceful mind. ALF is a variation of LAMP, the words being Acceptance; Love; and Forgiveness. I find this especially helpful for self-critical thinking; I need to forgive myself for whatever old pain resurfaces in my mind. I need a way to break the habit-energy of my mind going down old well-worn grooves which are inherently painful.
I came across this posting from Venerable Pannakara in January, as the Walk for Peace was in its latter stages, and saved it because it was such a perfect expression of this aspect of cultivating peace for ourselves:
The Weight We Were Never Meant to Hold
So many of us move through life carrying emotional weight that was never meant to stay with us forever. Old regrets resurface in quiet moments. Words once spoken replay in our minds long after their time has passed.
We also carry the pain left behind by others—broken trust, unmet expectations, moments that changed how we see ourselves.
Over time, these experiences pile up and turn into a heavy load. One that slows our steps, clouds our hearts, and makes the journey feel harder than it needs to be. Yet there is a gentle way to set this weight down: forgiveness.
Forgiveness does not deny the pain or excuse what happened. It is a conscious choice to say:
“I will no longer allow this to shape who I am. Holding onto it only causes me more harm.”
• When we forgive ourselves, we loosen the grip of shame and self-blame.
• When we forgive others, we release the bitterness that quietly drains our peace.
As we let go of the belief that suffering must be permanent, something softens inside us. Our breath deepens. Our hearts feel lighter. Peace is not something we have to force—it naturally emerges when we stop carrying what was never ours to keep.
You are allowed to forgive yourself for being human. You are allowed to forgive others for the same.
Release gently, with compassion for yourself and for those who are still learning. When you lay down the burdens you were never meant to carry, you may discover that a steady, quiet peace has been waiting for you all along.
May you—and all beings—walk in health, happiness, and peace.1
The central message of the Venerable Pannakara’s teachings is that peace is something within our capacity to enjoy, but to do so we need to actively work on ourselves; this is what Buddhist teachers are always emphasizing, trying to inspire people to take that step. Just thinking about it is not enough. The Buddha said that “thinking and speculating are like standing outside of a gate; to practice is like entering the gate and living a peaceful life within the enclosure.”
The central practice of entering the gate is that of compassion and love. Again, in the Buddha’s own words: “Never does hatred cease by hatred here in this world; hatred ceases by love. This is an eternal law.” It is an eternal, unalterable law. Acceptance of things as they are, acceptance of people as they are, acceptance of the truth of suffering—we cannot bypass these practices. They are the entrance to the gate. We can think about and philosophize about them forever, but nothing changes until we act upon them, choosing to act out of love for all living beings and for ourselves.
I believe everyone profits from some kind of small daily ritual which brings the mind back to a place of peace and acceptance, however momentary it may be. It could be as simple as going outside, if you have a yard, and talking to whatever is growing there. I do this every morning when I go outside and practice tai chi: I address the hills, mountains and trees and reaffirm my intention to be happy and at peace. Although many people would consider such a thing to be pretty nutty, it isn’t. It’s good way to connect briefly with the earth, ground ourselves and renew our intention to be at peace in a distracted world. Another ritual I have, in the evening before going to bed, is to make bows to my altar, which has three of Buddhism’s bodhisattvas on it, and chanting a dharani nine times. This puts my mind in a good place before going to sleep, which is an important thing to do lest we carry the worries and upsets of the day into our sleep and dreams. What a small ritual does is to make practice a regular habit; it doesn’t matter how small it is, the value comes from your devotion to it and the repetition of doing it every day, come what may.
Peace builds slowly if we make a daily effort to bring it into our lives. ‘Even though drops of water are minute, they gradually fill a large container’ is a sentence from one of our scriptures, and it’s undeniably true. Just as Venerable Pannakara was talking about every step that they took on their very long walk having sacred meaning, we can do the same thing in our lives if we cultivate a little bit of discipline and devotion to practice. Many people whom we talk to about meditation tell us that they find it hard to find time in a day to do it because their lives are so busy. The solution to this problem is to make your day a little bit less busy. Five or ten minutes is not a long period of time; it really is more a matter of priorities and what you choose to spend your time doing.
Many people wish they could do something to help the world, something that will make a difference. And as a matter of fact, engaging in some small daily ritual, or having a daily practice of meditation is that something—it is our offering to the world. It is effective even though no one is watching or we feel lonely; when we practice together with others, it is that much more powerful.
The Walk for Peace clearly had a galvanizing effect on a lot of people. Because it was a living expression of peace—of monks putting peace into action—people could see it with their own eyes rather than just reading about it in a book. After the Walk ended, Ven. Pannakara remarked that what was most moving to him were the people who came up to him and thanked him for giving them a reason to live, and said they otherwise would have probably taken their own lives. The pure loving kindness expressed by the monks each day as they walked along rural highways was enough to pierce through the gloom of despair that so many people live under. Just giving people a little bit of hope that there is something worth living for in this fraught realm of existence was a priceless offering.
Venerable Pannakara offers this prayer and mantra we can all take to heart:
Today is going to be my peaceful day
I choose calm over chaos. I choose patience over pressure. I choose kindness—especially toward myself.
No matter what comes my way, I will breathe, pause, and respond with peace. I will protect my energy, guard my heart, and move gently through this day.
Peace is not something I wait for—it’s something I create. Today is mine. And today is peaceful.
The Teaching of the Buddha comes in many ways, from the time of the Buddhas himself (2500 years ago) till this day in writings, talks and examples of how to live a peaceful and harmonious life.
Articles by monks and lay practitioners are under Older Articles.
We offer Dharma talks every Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning, as well as at the Meditation Group Meetings in Ventura and Morro Bay.
Private talks with a monk are available on request at any time.
Chanting Services have Traditional Buddhist Scriptures translated in English.
Pine Mountain Buddhist Temple. 