Buddhist Fly

Working in the kitchen, getting some lunch fixed, the first giant fly of the season landed on the edge of the ingredient bowl. Thus a flash back to my physiology class, like a thunderbolt, the microscope experience with a fly under glass, Mrs. Berringer, John Marshall H.S., L.A., circa. l947. Fight or flight, first cover the bowl.

Hit the fly? Thou Shalt Not Kill, then then the more contemporary Buddhist version comes to mind, more complicated via the Lama. But a reflex produces a flyswatter BAM, fly to the floor, and then the words of Chagdud Tulku Rinpoche: "The person inflicting the death is sowing seeds for future suffering on an enormous scale, far greater than that of his victim, and he doesn't even realize it. Surely both the victim and aggressor deserve our compassion."

Sanitation be damned, we must preserve all of life and not be concerned about the microbes. What is it? "What you don't see won't hurt you," and the legacy of ancient teachings might be more important than health? Mrs. Berringer must be in another incarnation by now, but it would have been fascinating to bring the Biblical and Buddhist concerns up in her (largely) health class.
She had a friendly, rollicking kind of Old Testament authority about her, I can't in my wildest dreams imagine a smart ass student suggesting to her and the other students that health might not be on any kind of par with Buddhist morality or the 10 Commandments.

The Buddhist Fly is in the ointment of our civilization and others, millions of past, present and future military warriors and their instigators will be living out the results of their involvements in the killing of others. The kitchen may be for health inspectors, for the squeamish who would dare to compare killings for ideology, empire or for health. Our instincts have been dulled by generations of lesser activity, but can be activated in a second by our dinosaur brain. BAM.