THE PEPPER TREE THAT’S PREACHING
My office looks out upon the garden. Lush verdant trees and plants surround it in fresh greenery. Directly in my line of sight stands an ancient tree, its age unknown. It had been here before I arrived, and I have now lived here for twenty years. This old tree is taller than the roof of the upper floor of the ancestral temple. The trunk is enormous; if I stretch both arms around it, I can only cover half its circumference. From about two meters above the ground, five branches extend outward in a spiral, while the main trunk ascends vertically with firm resolve. The base and trunk are enormous, but the leaves are tiny. The leaves grow in symmetrical pairs on long stalks reaching one or two-meters drooping like curtains and swaying gently. Only looking at the front, I can know whether today it’s windy or not and from which direction the wind blows.
Whenever my eyes grow weary from work, I look out to enjoy the leaves dancing gracefully in light breeze, and frenetically in strong wind. In spring, it flowers and bears tiny fruits. In summer, the fruits gradually grow larger, shifting from green to a pinkish hue, and by late summer, they ripen into a deep red, emitting a spicy, pungent peppery fragrance. And so, I have labeled it the "pepper tree." Now, at the end of summer, clusters of ripened, crimson pepper berries hang in abundance, swinging in the wind. I wish they were trứng cá (Muntingia calabura) fruits instead—that would be delightful. So many years have passed without my seeing or tasting those tiny fruits. How come, in the old days, they tasted so good? Now, there are grapes, cherries, crispy, sweet, fresh, juicy, and cool. They’re so delicious. But I keep reminiscing about the trứng cá tree which was not planted around my house then. Why such memory of trứng cá brought up when looking at those green and pinkish pepper clusters here?
Ah! I know—the mind has returned to the past. The network of associations moves swiftly, guiding me back to my childhood home. A single thought, like a flash of lightning, traverses’ space and time. Luckily, I stopped myself in time. Otherwise, I would have begun recounting sesbania flowers used in sour soup, telosma blossoms, pumpkin flowers, young tamarind leaves... Guys, see? The title is "The Pepper Tree That’s Preaching". Ironically, it has led me wandering. But it also preaches to me the path of practice is "as thin as a thread " for if I am not mindful, this very tree becomes the condition that entangles me, and disturbs my mind.
But look the clusters of pepper swing and smile at me. It is not the tree that led me astray; it was I who projected myself backward in time. Why did I not see what as-is in front of me but recalling trứng cá fruits?
For a long time now, the pepper tree has reminded me of the art of living, " adapting to situations yet staying unagitated." Its trunk is sturdy and solid, standing tall against the vast sky. Despite wind and rain, the trunk does not shake. This tree surely has a hard inner core. In the Buddhist discourse “The Simile of the Heartwood”, the Buddha compared the ultimate goal of virtuous life to mind liberation, which is similar to the heartwood of a tree, its most valuable part. The heartwood lies hidden deep inside the trunk, hard to see and find. Mind liberation is also abstract, difficult to seek and attain. Though abstract, practitioners must be steady, consistent and unshakable. Mind liberation means transcending over all attachments, but it must be founded on the groundwork of the three pillars: the aggregate of morality (sīla), the aggregate of concentration (samādhi), and the aggregate of wisdom (paññā). It requires the perfect wisdom to eradicate all subconscious taints and cravings. From now on, the mind can be stable and stops swinging. Then, practitioners can attain the complete essence of their monastic ethics embodiment and thorough commitment of precept form.
The pepper tree’s trunk is strong; its major and minor branches are also sturdy. Only the leaf stems are soft, slender, elongated like strings, sometimes stretching up to two meters and drooping, with leaves densely packed. It’s now summer, and the ripe red peppers hang in clusters at the ends of the leaf stalks, waltzing in the gentle breeze.
Observing the entire tree, I immediately saw two contrasting images: a massive, immovable, dark brown trunk, and tiny, light green leaves, no bigger than my little finger, along with small, rosy fruits, are always gentle and playful, enjoy jigging in the wind. These two images appear to reflect two opposing ways of life. At first glance, they seem contradictory, but they’re mutually complementary in truly harmony.
Living in this world, at times we must be strong and unyielding; at other times, flexible and adaptable. There should be wisdom to appropriately deal with the ever-changing circumstances and human heart-minds.
A proverb says, “He who’s smart dies. He who’s foolish also dies. He who knows survives.”
For instance, there’s a fool, rich and fond of flaunting his possession. Sooner or later, he’ll perish. People often contend with one another to seize his wealth. Why, then, a wise guy also perishes? When he’s clever, talented, more reputable and successful than others who’ll surely be jealous, hateful and seek to bring him down. The laws of the mundane world are governed by conflicts. A proverb goes,
“Talented but arrogant,
Calamity descends in an instant.”
Therefore, to live safely in the life ocean is not easy. There needs true sagacity. In the saying above, “He who knows survives.”, the Knowing refers to the insight that penetrates the fundamental truths of life, only then can we act appropriately.
We do know, “Staying unagitated amidst the ever-changing world.”, the manifest of our art of living. The external world is never still but constantly changing and shaped by countless varying conditions. The pepper tree lives a life much like ours. It’s born, grows up, ages and finally ends. It may outlive us with favorable conditions. The roots of its massive body must deeply cling into the earth to firmly sustain against wind and storms. It must seek water, sunlight on its own. Yet, it can’t resist humans. If we want to prune its branches or trim its leaves, it remains accepted. It’s not easy for us to learn that lifestyle.
"Monks, even if low-down bandits were to sever your limbs with a two-handled saw, if any among you gave rise to a mind of being disturbed, he would not be following my teachings.
Monks, here, you must train yourselves as follows:
‘We shall keep our minds unagitated; we shall utter no evil speech; we shall abide in compassion, with a heart of loving-kindness, with a mind free from hatred and resentment.
We shall even embrace that person with a mind imbued with empathy.
And with him as the object, we shall extend this mind to permeate the entire world, immense, immeasurable, free from enmity, free from hostility.’
Monks, you must train yourselves thus."
“And monks, if you constantly reflect upon this simile of the saw, do you think there is any form of speech, whether harsh or subtle, that you could not endure?”
(Majjhima Nikāya – The Simile of the Saw)
If you have the time, I highly recommend reading the discourse of The Simile of the Saw, where the Buddha teaches the pāramitā patience (kṣānti pāramitā). Even if someone sawed off our four limbs, we are not to give rise to hatred. So, how could we not tolerate with mere harsh, imprudent words?
The pepper tree offers cool shade during the scorching summer months. In monastery garden, there are many such trees. They seem to grow naturally, needing no care, well-suited to this rocky, hilly land. No tree is exactly alike any other. Though each has a strong trunk and soft, green dancing leaves, they all remind me of the truth, “the Nature of Dependent Conditions”, (pratītyasamutpāda). Wherever they almost brush against other branches, they learn to grow in another direction. When they encounter a rock, they lean aside. In a thicket of lush trees, they grow straight up, rising above to reach the sunlight. However, they all meet the above truth at sharing a similar quality. Each tree exudes an air of serenity and peacefulness while their soft leaves gently glide in the summer breeze.
Do you know when the pepper tree is most beautiful? In spring, after nights of rain. At early dawn, just when the sunlight slants through the branches, the young greenish leaves shimmer with dew or raindrops still clinging to their edges. They lightly flounce, radiantly sparkle with the hues of silvery threads, reflecting a myriad of colors. In each tiny leaf, the entire world seems reflecting illusorily. And indeed, the entire universe channel its energy into each small leaf: sunlight, wind, rain, moonlight, stars, cool mist, earth and air, all the conditions of life, just as with human beings.
Therefore, we should also live calmly, joyfully, and peacefully while simultaneously offering cool shade for life, and bearing with all that world may bring to us, without sorrow or resentment as well.
Bhikkhuni Thích Nữ Triệt Như
Sunyata Monastery, Sept 01, 2021
English version by Ngọc Huyền
Link to Vietnamese article: https://tanhkhong.org/a2750/triet-nhu-snhp025-cay-tieu-thuyet-phap
%7Cutmcsr%3D(direct)%7Cutmcmd%3D(none)%3B%2B__utmv%3D889399499.-%3B)