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Auckland, October 31, 2024
The word Karma is derived from the Sanskrit root ‘Kri,’ meaning ‘to do,’ implying all action is Karma.
Technically, the term incorporates both an action and its consequence.
What determines the nature of Karma is the will or intention behind an act.
As mentioned in the Buddhist text ‘Anguttara Nikaya,’ “It is the will (Chetana), that I call Karma; having willed, one acts through body, speech or mind.”
An action is right or wrong as the motive is right or wrong:
“One who acts with the best of intentions does not get the sin of the outward consequence of his action.” (Yoga Sikha).
For example, a doctor is not responsible for murder, if the operation per chance ends in the death of his or her patient.
“Even if a man does not succeed, he gets all the merit of doing his duty, if he strives the utmost to his capacity.” (Mahabharata: Udyoga Parva 93.6)
“Some undertakings succeed, and others fail. That is due to the divine order of things. If a man does his part of the work, no sin touches him.” (Mahabharata: Santi Parva 24.30)
It is the psychological impulse behind an action that is ‘Karma,’ that which sets a chain of causes culminating in karmic fruits. Actions then must be intentional if they are to generate karmic fruits.
This Buddhist belief is slightly at variance from that of the Jains.
They say accidentally treading on an insect does not have such an effect as the latter believe. Thinking of doing some bad action is bad Karma, however, especially when one gives energy to such a thought, rather than just letting it pass.
One of the most significant instructional references to Karma comes from the Bhagavad Gita, which says, ‘You have the right to work, but not to the fruits thereof. (2.47)
Significant here is the fact that we are entitled only to act and have ‘no right’ over the ensuing results. This profound assertion is not merely discourse but loaded with sound practical advice, which can act as a sensible strategy for whatever we set out to achieve.
Good versus Evil
In medieval China lived an old farmer, who had a weak, ailing horse for plugging his field. One day, the sickly horse ran away to the hills.
The farmer’s neighbours said in sympathy: “Such rotten luck!”
“Bad luck? Good luck? Who knows?” mused the farmer.
A week later, the old horse returned, bringing with it a herd of wild horses from the hills.
This time, the neighbours swarmed and congratulated the farmer on his good luck. His reply however was the same: “Good luck? Bad luck? Who can tell?”
Sometime later, while trying to tame one of the wild horses, the farmer’s only son fell off its back and broke his leg. Everyone thought this was bad luck. “Bad luck? Good luck? I don’t know,” said the farmer.
A few weeks later, the king’s army marched into the village and conscripted every able-bodied young man. The farmer’s son, who was laid up with a broken leg was let off.
Now what was this? Good luck or bad luck? Who can tell?
Things that seem adverse on the surface may actually be good in disguise and something that seems to be attractive and ‘lucky’ may actually be harmful to our best interests. The learned ones often leave it to a higher power beyond the material world to decide what is best for them.
Good and evil are not constant – they change according to time and circumstance.
Lebanese poet Khalil Gibran said: “The selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.”
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
You cannot separate the just from the unjust and the good from the wicked, for they stand together before the face of the sun even as the black thread and the white are woven together.
Verily all things move within your being in constant half embrace, the desired and the dreaded, the repugnant and the cherished, the pursued and that which you would escape.
These things move within you as lights and shadows in pairs that cling.
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy.
You would know the secret of death. But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?
If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.
For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.
We read in the Bhagavad Gita again and again that we must all work incessantly. It is also mentioned that all work by nature is composed of good and evil. We cannot do any work that will not do some good somewhere and indeed there cannot be any action that will be free of any harmful residue..
Swami Vivekananda puts it succinctly:
“There is a thorn in my finger, and I use another to take the first one out. When I have taken out the first, I throw both of them aside; I have no necessity for keeping the second horn because both are thorns after all. So any negative tendencies plaguing our minds are to be counteracted by the good ones.
“But what after that? Even the good tendencies have now to be restrained. The idea is to renounce attachment to any ideal – good or bad – and work but let not the mind be unduly anxious about the results. Let the ripples come and go, let huge actions proceed from us, but let them not make too-deep impression on our souls.
“Work as if we are a stranger in this land, a sojourner, this is the amount of detachment that is required. Doing the duty, which is ours at any particular time is the best thing we can do in this world, and such Karma is our dharma. Never will unhappiness or misery come through work done without attachment.
“Work incessantly but give up all attachment to work. Do not identify yourself with anything. In the ocean, we cannot raise a wave without causing a hollow somewhere else.”
If we want the reward we must also have the punishment. The only way to get out of the punishment is to give up the reward. The only way of getting out of misery is by giving up the idea of happiness because they are but two sides of the same coin. On one side there is life and on the other death.
The only way to get beyond death is to give up the love of life. Life and death are the same things looked at from different points. This ebb and flow, this rising and falling, is the world’s very nature. It would be as logical to hold otherwise as to say that we may have life without death. Such an assertion is unjustifiable because the very idea of life implies death and that of pleasure-pain. The lamp is constantly burning out, and that is its life. If we want to have life we have to die every moment for it.
Manipulating Karma
Ralph Waldo Emerson said there was a silent third party in all human bargains.
“There is a silent third party in all our bargains. If you serve an ungrateful master, serve him more. Put God in your debt. Every stroke shall be repaid. The longer the payment is withheld the better for you; for compound interest on compound interest is the rate and usage of this exchequer.” (Emerson)
Perhaps this was what Jesus Christ had in mind when he said: “If any man take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also,” (Matthew 5:40), because: “Woe to you that are rich, for you have received your consolation. Woe to you that are full now, for you will hunger. Woe to you that laugh now, for you will mourn and weep. Woe to you when everyone speaks well of you, for so did their fathers to the false prophets. (Luke 6:24-26)
And further:
For whosoever exalts himself shall be humbled, and he that humbles himself shall be exalted. (Luke 14:7-14)
