From 2010 to 2011, every Sunday afternoon we made a little trek to the Myanmar Buddhist Vipassana Meditation Centre in Singapore for a one-hour Buddhism lesson.  We were introduced by a friend to the resident monk, Master U Pannananda and he agreed to give us lessons every week.  So for about six months, every Sunday we went to the little, somewhat run-down shop fitted into a somewhat older strip of buildings for our lessons.

google street view

We were a little timid for starters, since this was a whole new ballgame for us, but the lovely, humble Burmese people who worked and volunteered at the Centre were so kind to us that we began to settle in.  This is my son having his homework checked by Master U Pannananda.

We learned some very interesting and generally applicable principles during our lessons and came away better people for them.

One of the core messages throughout our lessons was the idea of moving beyond self-cherishing (that instinctive view that motivates us to put ourselves, our own ideas, and our own needs above others) toward cherishing others and the needs of others.  This is loving compassion and the class mantra was simple, “Be kind to every living creature.”

We saw the impact this had on us immediately.  Soon after our classes ended, my fourth-grade son had a kleptomaniac classmate.  Throughout the school year the classmate had stolen money from my son’s backpack and other valuables from all the kids’ backpacks.  The kleptomaniac also stole my son’s favorite stuffed animal that my son was keeping in his school desk.

The plushie’s name is Thor and is about the size of a fist.  He’s a little fellow and was a family favorite because he surprised us by joining our family on our last trip to the famous Kiddyland in the equally famous Omotesando street of Tokyo.

Well, the kleptomaniac made off with Thor, then proceeded to mark all over Thor with a black Sharpie marker, and finally claimed Thor was Kleptomaniac’s own plushie.  My son was very upset, to understate his emotion.  I was angry and may have suggested that we bring down this kleptomaniac kid.  My son paused and said in response to my suggestion, “But I want to be kind to every living creature, and that includes Bob.”  (Names have been changed.)

The next day at school, my son did indeed gently manage the situation with kindness and returned home successfully with Thor.  Son was filled with joy that Thor was home and the situation was resolved with peace and compassion.

But what do I do about these ants swarming along the corners of my kitchen walls?

The ant problem is exponentially compounded by the fact that this apartment has an open kitchen.  Open to the outside, in case you were wondering.  Open permanently because there is no wall on outside.  I know.  It’s weird.  More importantly, the missing wall is overly welcoming to the little ants that I ought to be treating with loving kindness.

Now we have already dealt with the bug issue.  Last summer both kids were working on a nature project with the local zoo.  One requirement was to capture, gas, and pin a certain number of bugs to start a bug collection.  The issue of showing kindness to all living creatures was again raised, and brilliantly overcome.  Instead of seeking out live bugs, they worked extra diligently to find recently dead but still preserved bugs.  They would collect and pin the already dead bugs rather than killing live ones, and we all found joy in that solution.

But the ants.  What to do about the ants?  My strategy so far has been trying to dissuade their interest in me and my kitchen by spraying a citrus spray along the surfaces open to the outside.  I spray all the corner paths that I watch them traversing in hopes of convincing the ants to just move along peacefully.  That is my gentle kindness to the ants.

Unfortunately, my citrus spray is not keeping them out permanently.  Every morning the little fellows are scurrying along new routes.  Always, love ants will find a way.