Posts Tagged ‘truth prosperity’

Everyday Dharma

Tuesday, March 2nd, 2010

dharmaDharma. Many of us have heard the word in discussions of eastern philosophy, but few understand the importance of its meaning to people of all professions. Dharma is personal responsibility combined with one’s social, familial, or professional duty—all with the concept of equilibrium or balance in mind. In Chu’s book, Thick Face, Black Heart, she describes the inherent importance of dharma to those seeking success in any realm.

As westerners, we often like to define what is right and what is wrong in absolute terms. Killing is wrong. Feeding people is good. Stealing is wrong. Healing is good. But the idea of dharma states that there is a right and wrong, a “duty” if you will, for each individual depending on his or her station in life. If someone has joined the army and sworn to fight as his superiors direct, it is his dharma to do so. If killing is involved, it is his dharma to kill. That is the duty he must fulfill based on his station in life. It is also his duty to wear camouflage clothing and stay physically fit in order to protect himself from attack. Sacrificing himself is not the warrior’s dharma. After all, what good is a dead warrior? His dharma is to perform his job while building upon his ability to do his job effectively. That means self-preservation.

Meanwhile, if a physician has taken an oath to save all lives, he must do so no matter whether these are the lives of friendly soldiers or enemies. It is his dharma to do so—his duty. He must get a good night’s sleep; eat well; and never endanger his hands, the sanitation of the operating environment, or his own livelihood, as this would deter him from performing his dharma.

The dharma of a debtor is to pay back his debt as well as he is able—to establish a payment plan that does cause him to cut back on luxuries, does force him to take on a lower standard of living, but does not endanger his or his family’s livelihood. After all, the creditor also has to live and to support his family, so that is another dharma that must not be neglected. Meanwhile, the dharma of a creditor is to collect upon debt. This dharma calls for him to enable the debtor to establish a workable payment plan while still remaining able to recover financially. None of this is anything new to you, I’m sure, but many wrongly interpret their dharma due to short-sighted pressure from professional superiors.

Some folks in the credit industry seem to think it is their dharma to ruin the debtor. To take all they can get and leave the debtor with nothing—no money, no hope, no self-respect. This is a huge mistake on every professional level. Everyone makes mistakes. Life is not about avoiding mistakes and proving that you were born perfect and a genius. Dharma simply states that one must do the duty you happen to have in order to help put things right in the world—in order to bring things back to a state of equilibrium.

Achieving a Balance

Saturday, February 27th, 2010

Balance_scaleDharma—or duty in the interest of balance—is an interesting subject that brings up a lot of complicated issues. By the way, that definition—“duty in the interest of balance”—is mine, but it’s taken from the ideas put forth in Chu’s book, Thick Face, Black Heart. Chu just defines it as “duty,” but all the examples she gives illustrate how duty, performed rightly, leads to balance.

In explaining the dictates of dharma, she gave one particularly good example. She was a manager in a manufacturing firm and had to travel to one of the firm’s branches, which was performing poorly. The manager of this branch was her friend, so she felt very torn in terms of whether she should come down hard on the company or be casual and friendly. In the end, she realized her dharma. (Remember it’s your duty, but always in the interest of establishing balance). Her dharma was to ask the company how she, as a representative of the parent company, could help them improve their sales. It required the company to work hard to come up with a plan for improvement, but offered all the support that was needed. In other words, a win-win solution.

Another good example of the concept was given to me once by a college professor.

He taught a philosophy class that seemed, well, purposefully confusing. I thought it was badly taught and that it frankly favored students who were total bullshit artists versus those who actually did the reading. About three out of ten students were the bullshit artists who enjoyed the class and the rest of us sat there dumbfounded every single class, utterly befuddled by what was being (supposedly) discussed.

After many weeks of this, the professor addressed the class one day, saying that several students had approached him and very frankly stated that they knew they would never excel at the class but wanted some directive as to how to simply pass. Their goal was to pass, not to excel, and they asked him what these basic requirements would be. He told the class that the only way to pass was to attempt to excel. That there was no shortcut. He then stated that graduate students were expected to be able to bullshit. That it was an art and a skill and that we would all do well to cultivate it. He basically admitted that it was a class in “how to bullshit your way through when you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I have to admit I didn’t agree with his philosophy, but I did respect that he was being perfectly frank about it. I do agree, however, that the only way to get through something painful with the least amount of pain is to attempt to excel, rather than to attempt to squeak by. I had to take the class to graduate, and it was my dharma to do my best in it, so that’s what I did. As someone famous once said, “If you’re going to be a whore, be the best one in the house.”

It’s not easy for anyone to understand his or her dharma. We all make mistakes and discover our true dharma through trial and error. And, of course, this dharma changes as life changes and our duties change. But if we keep this philosophy in mind—that solutions to problems are based on each individual’s duty or role in their company, their family, their friendship clique, or any organization—then we begin to be able to answer the age-old question of what is “the right thing to do” (morally, professionally, etc.). For those who are self-employed, their dharma is to serve their clients. For those who are unemployed or destitute, their dharma is to preserve and improve themselves without harming others, thereby preserving balance in all things. Everyone has a dharma.

For Disgruntled Employees

Saturday, December 26th, 2009

angry_employeeWhen discussing the idea of dharma—or duty with a view toward establishing balance—in the business world, it is inevitable that the subject of the disgruntled employee should come up. In Thick Face, Black Heart, Chu talks about this common dilemma: when one is duty-bound to serve a manager who is fool, then what do you do?

Dharma states that even if your boss is a fool, your duty is to serve him—or else have the courage to quit the job. Because changing jobs is stressful and difficult to achieve, many choose to remain in a bad position and complain about it rather than quit and pursue other options. Such cowardice is not admirable! It doesn’t serve you and it doesn’t serve balance. However, if you do need to stay in a bad job for some reason, dharma states that serving your (fool of an) employer faithfully is the best course of action.

When I say “your dharma is to serve,” I’m not laying a moralistic trip on you. I’m not saying that we must all deny our personal needs and emotions for some abstract concept of duty. I’m an American. I would never say such a thing. Please. What I’m saying is that your life will be better if you follow your dharma. You’ll be happier, achieve more, get where you want to go faster, and have a more balanced life overall. Refraining from complaining will prevent you from gathering groups of other disgruntled employees around you who all feed each other’s dissatisfaction until the only result is rampant unhappiness.

The thing is, you are also duty-bound, in such a situation, to offer any suggestions for improvement that occur to you. Perhaps you see how a certain plan could improve efficiency. Despite your knowledge that your employer is a buffoon who won’t understand the concept, you are duty bound to present the plan anyway. Your job is to serve that employer in the interest of the company. If your employer is too foolish to follow his own dharma by considering your plan, that’s his business, not yours.

Following your dharma is emotionally demanding. It requires a lot of thought as to priorities and obligations. It requires one to carefully consider before making commitments because of the dharma those commitments might contain. It requires one to take to heart the philosophy of “Thick Face,” which means holding high self-esteem and believing in your convictions without faltering. It also requires one to embody the “Black Heart” philosophy, which is that of ruthlessly doing what is right for a  righteous long-term goal without letting short-term interests distract you.

It is often helpful to have a partner in the demanding process of pursuing your dharma. This is why in the old days they used to say “behind every successful man there is a woman.” Whether your support is a man or woman is irrelevant, the point is that we all need emotional support—someone to discuss the complications of dharma with and to encourage us to do the right thing towards balance. The same is true for business, and that’s why business coaches and the like abound. These support systems can be useful if they have the right approach—not an emphasis on short-term victory at all costs, but a view toward win-win situations that create balance.

Achieve True Prosperity

Saturday, December 19th, 2009

prosperityChu hits upon an important point for all of us, no matter our profession, when, in her book Thick Face, Black Heart, she acknowledges that we are all driven by the dual motivation of avoiding pain and seeking pleasure. For instance, we typically vote for politicians based on the pleasure and pain-avoidance they promise for our future. Unfortunately, this view of life is short-sighted.

Look at U.S. president Ronald Reagan: he turned the U.S. from the largest creditor nation to the largest debtor nation in eight short years due to his dedication to creating a false prosperity that made Americans feel good in the moment.

Chu suggests that we move beyond this pleasure principle in our own lives in order to achieve true and lasting prosperity. The key, she says, is to follow the example of great men and women in the past by having the courage of our convictions. So many aspects of our lives are simply cultural traditions. People do them because they are used to doing them. They can’t imagine life any other way. If someone stands up against these traditions, they face ridicule. Yet in the end—if they maintain the courage of their convictions to end harmful or useless traditions—they go down in history as heroes. Such daily heroes, one person at a time, have ended traditions as diverse as foot-binding in China, racist Jim Crow laws in the American south, and the legality of the glass-ceiling for women in business.

Another reason why the blind avoidance of pain and pursuit of pleasure does us harm in the long run is simply that it encourages us to object to change. Change is inherently painful in most instances. Even if your company is changing over to a more prosperous business model, the process of remembering new procedures and techniques, getting to know new people, and learning new software can be tedious and overwhelming.

Moving to a new and better home, as anyone knows, can be stressful. Possessions can get broken in the process. Movers may come into your life whom you don’t trust or who charge too much. The transition is fraught with problems and expenses, yet in the end you are in a better home with more of the features you enjoy on a day-to-day basis. It was the pursuit of pleasure in the long-term that drove you to go forward with the move, of course—a forward-thinking attitude.

But Chu’s primary point in all this is that most forward-thinking moves come not from the long-term pursuit of pleasure but from the courage of one’s convictions. A sense of right and wrong. A sense of dignity and integrity for a population of people, not just for yourself. Ghandi understood this, as did Martin Luther King. Of course we can’t all be Ghandi, but we can follow his example of moral courage in our lives—fighting for change as needed to make our little worlds—our offices, our homes, our towns—a better place.