Snails. Humility. Heedfulness.
Reflecting on spiritual ego, it's a reminder that none of us are exempt—especially seasoned practitioners and serious scholars of spiritual discourses. We often make offerings to monastics, believing, as stated in the teachings, that giving to renunciates accrues more merit than giving to a beggar. However, understanding the broader workings of karma, this isn’t a straightforward equation. If our intention in giving is pure, untainted by ego, the resulting merit is also pure. But if the act is colored by attachment, holding back, or a desire for recognition, the merit is likewise compromised.
Recently, I encountered a small but powerful reminder of this while walking to work. A snail was crossing my path, vulnerable to being crushed. Without hesitation, I lifted it gently, placing it safely out of harm’s way. In another instance, my friend Jin Jie and I saw a snail together. This time, instead of moving it myself, I asked him to help. Reflecting on these experiences, I realized that while both acts were intended to prevent harm, each carried its own significance. One intention was to save a life directly, and the other was to invite another person to do what is necessary and important. These distinct intentions are equally meaningful. Why is that? Because merits are vital in supporting our lives. We do good not solely for the sake of accumulating merit, but we recognize that merits play an important role in our well-being.
Small acts of kindness like these underscore the preciousness of life. The merit from such acts, I believe, is as potent as offering alms to noble ones. We've all heard stories of people meeting noble individuals in moments of great peril; such encounters are awe-inspiring, but not coincidental. Acts of kindness, like saving a snail, may contribute to this "good fortune," where noble help arrives just when we need it most. This experience has taught me not to underestimate any act of kindness, whether our own or that of others, as such moments arise from a complex web of supportive causes and conditions.
In contrast, we've read tragic stories of infants harmed at birth, underscoring the importance of cultivating positive wholesome connections with others—what we call in Chinese 结善缘 (jié shàn yuán). Avoiding negative unwholesome connections, 结恶缘 (jié è yuán), is equally crucial, as these may later manifest in painful or destructive ways. Such reflections encourage me to live more mindfully, considering carefully how I think, speak, and treat others. By doing so, we avoid creating unnecessary unwholesome connections, as we can never predict when their repercussions may manifest in our lives.
In an age dominated by screen time, we risk losing awareness of our surroundings, even to the point of missing small beings in our path or putting ourselves in danger. We've become careless, and heedfulness seems to have faded from our lives. Reflecting on life's precariousness reminds me of the importance of mindfulness, not just to pursue lofty spiritual goals, but to seize every opportunity to avoid harm, do good, and purify our minds from the impurities that constantly arise if we pay attention.
When we give more emphasis inward, we start to see just how often unwholesome intentions emerge in our minds, often unnoticed. This reflection adds urgency and sincerity to our practice, guarding and guiding our minds towards avoiding evil, doing good, and purifying our minds from unwholesome intentions.
With heedfulness,
Stephanie Chua
11 March 2025