He is a Brahmin from whom craving, hatred and envy have fallen, as a seed slips from the point of a needle.

…craving…

The Buddha taught that craving is one of the passions that drives our thoughts, these thoughts create the delusion of “me”. This delusion is always attempting to boost its feeling of importance, it seeks fulfilment through people, objects and situations. As everything is constantly changing, it always feels that something is lacking.

Unscrupulous advertising exploits this feeling. It promotes goods or experiences that promise to provoke the envy of your family and friends. In turn, perhaps we covet certain items not because we actually need them, but because we believe they will raise our status. Unfortunately, rather than impressing our acquaintances, they are quite likely to spread resentment.

…hatred…

When we are thwarted in our pursuits, we become angry, anger is another passion. Frans de Waal’s video of an experiment with capuchin monkeys illustrates how common this is, even among animals.

One monkey is encouraged to give his trainer a rock. He is rewarded each time with a slice of cucumber. The monkey is content to repeat the exchange. A second monkey is rewarded with a grape for the same action. Witnessing this, the first monkey hurls the slice of cucumber back at the trainer. He shakes the bars of the cage in uncontrollable anger.

…and envy…

We also seem to be hard-wired to feel jealousy. To begin with, my little niece was fascinated by her new baby sister. However, it didn’t take long before she felt her sister was attracting too much attention. This was first expressed through temper tantrums. Finally, she announced to her parents, “You can take her back now!”

The Greek myth of Andromeda and Perseus is concerned with craving, hatred and envy, and their transmutation. There once lived a contented group of shepherds and farmers who worshipped the sea gods. One day, a huge wave rose up and flooded all their land. A terrifying monster flared up out of the sea. Riding on the flood, it swept away their sheep, cattle, sons and daughters.

The monster returned night after night. The farmers and shepherds believed that they had offended the sea gods, and so King Cepheus consulted the priests. The priests discovered that Queen Cassiopeia was the culprit, she had been boasting that she was more beautiful than the sea gods’ daughters. The sea gods were furious and had sent the monster as a curse. The priests advised the Queen to bind her daughter Andromeda to a rock as an offering to lift the curse.

In great sorrow, the King and Queen secured Andromeda to a black rock with brass chains. Weeping copiously, they left her. All night, Andromeda waited in terror.

At daybreak, a godlike Perseus appeared. His eyes were as blue as the sea. His hair was like spun gold. He carried a sword encrusted with diamonds. He cut through the chains and released Andromeda.

Under his cloak was hidden Medusa’s head, which turned creatures to stone. When the sea monster arrived, Perseus drew Medusa’s head from his cloak. The monster was turned into a lifeless log and there was rejoicing throughout the land.

The Queen boasted of her beauty, she craved to impress others. The sea gods felt jealousy and hatred because of this.

Zen training helps us to recognise the stirrings of desire, envy and anger. We are encouraged to meet them in the same way Perseus met the sea monster. We ask the passions to “burn me away”. As the sea monster was vanquished, so they are transformed into Choiceless Awareness, free from “me”.

“He is a Brahmin from whom craving, hatred and envy have fallen…”

A Brahmin is one who lives in Choiceless Awareness. In Choiceless Awareness, there is at-one-ment with all. Sympathetic joy blossoms.

One day, a king invited the Buddha and his monks to his palace for lunch. On the way, they passed a poor beggar. The Buddha spoke to him. The beggar spoke very highly of the king. He also remarked that the palace was very beautiful.

The Buddha and his monks arrived at the palace. They were served with a sumptuous meal of many courses. They were entertained with delightful music.

At the end of the meal, the Buddha stood up to make a dedication. Much to everyone’s surprise, he didn’t thank the king. Instead, he dedicated the prayer to the poor beggar outside.

When asked why he hadn’t mentioned the king, the Buddha replied that the king was too proud of his palace. The beggar had accrued more merit by expressing sympathetic joy in the king’s good fortune without envy.

In sympathetic joy, there is no “yours or mine”, but a deep sharing in everything as it comes to be and ceases to be. There is nothing lacking.