Neel’s Response

Listen to this life-changing speech!

Transcript:

Imagine this: you labor for 4 hours on a homework assignment, completing thousands of revisions, only for your friend to make a copy of your work in under 7 seconds. Imagine this: you meticulously put together a plan for a group project, only to have your teammates contribute nothing, forcing you to shoulder the entire workload. And imagine this: you let your friend in on a deep secret, only to have them spread it behind your back. A flame is ignited. Your face, flushed with a fiery rage, portrays the firestorm within. Hands balled into fists with your veins pulsating as they burst to escape, you stare directly at your enemy, ready to pounce for the kill. Realistically, unless we’re the Dalai Lama himself, we’ve all been there. 

Just like you, I’ve had many of those moments. And, regrettably, I have to admit that I’ve succumbed to my rage, and lashed out. I did it with the expectation of feeling free, lifting the burden of hatred off my shoulders, and finally getting back at them after the anger they had caused me. I’ve let my anger take the driver's seat, expecting this sense of liberation, only to be left feeling hollow after a crash. No burden had been relieved and no part of that “revenge” was sweet. But it was the easy thing to do, it took no self-control. If anything, a lack of it, and it just felt natural. 

Why is that? Why is it so easy to lash out at someone? It’s because when we are wronged, when we feel betrayed, it is easy to assume that the person who wronged us, is a bad person. That they had acted with pure malicious intent. That they deserve every part of the blame. It lets us feel okay when we lash out, scream, fight, even kill (in wars of course, I’m not talking about myself).

Let me take you back to a story from 5 years ago that still haunts me to this day. I remember vividly being in a tied football match with just 3 minutes remaining as the scores were tied. A player from the other team, Konstantin (I still remember his name), dove to the ground, flailing around clutching his knee. My teammates and I, concerned with the player’s well-being, went over to check on him. But as I looked back, I saw the opposition laughing as they danced their way to our goal and scored. Now when I look back, it’s pretty funny to think about Konstantin’s smug face dancing and celebrating while we sat, dumbfounded. But of course, at the time I was furious. I wanted to confront him after the match and teach him a lesson on what real winning looks like. So as an 11 year old, I did what any 11 year old would do, and displayed just how little my brain had developed. I went up to him after the game, and instead of shaking his hand, clocked him in the jaw with a right hook (mimic this), knocking him to the ground. In return, I received a 3 match ban, got put on the bench for the rest of the season, and to sum up, by no means was it worth it. But hey, in my defense, I was an 11 year old hyped up on adrenaline and betrayal.

In retrospect, I could’ve definitely handled the situation better, perhaps with a little more compassion and understanding to gain insight on his perspective. But I’d always seen anger and compassion as two polar opposites - either you’re a compassionate person, or an angry person. Some people are able to find the good in situations while others are designed to be more quick, to lash out. I just assumed I was a hot head, and that it was something immutable, whereas someone like Teddy on the other hand is naturally compassionate, never having to deal with anger.

But that couldn’t be further from the truth. In his book, The Art of Happiness, the Dalai Lama introduces a principle/way of thinking, prominent in buddhist culture: “The basic nature of humans is gentle and compassionate.” Each and every human, regardless of their actions, and how they might have affected others, is, at their very core, compassionate. So why is it that some of us act in a way that portrays us not to be? He explains how other factors such as our familiarity, our insecurities, and our past experiences can push the path of compassion further away making it harder to choose it over anger. But there is a way that we can bring ourselves closer to this path of compassion, bringing it back into reach.

Now, we can’t decide what choice others in our lives will make. We can’t control whether they choose to put their emotions over the well-being of others, or their care for others over their immediate reaction. What we can determine is which path we choose, and keeping in mind that we are all compassionate by nature, can help us do this. Recognizing that there are other factors causing other people to act less compassionate can allow us to express empathy for their situation, making us less likely to react with hostility. On top of that, applying this principle to ourselves, allows us to search deep within and dismantle the factors that may be hindering our ability to show compassion. 

I know that this is much easier said than done. In the heat of the moment, it is easy to get caught up in your hatred for the other person, blinded by sheer rage. You may not buy the idea that the person is ‘compassionate’. And I realize that some speech made by an 11 grader is unlikely to change your views on the innate nature of humans. But, even if you remain skeptical, even if you still believe that some people aren’t compassionate, choosing to deceive yourself into believing they are can allow you to get past the injustices of their actions. This mindset brings you closer to compassion, keeping you from throwing a right hook to your Konstantins.

But how can we apply this concept to our real lives? In the book, the co-author, Howard C. Cutler, tells the story of the time he was scammed by a cab driver in India. He explains how as the driver started to drive, he noticed that the meter hadn’t been reset from the past ride. An amount of 100 rupees had still been tacked on and would have been added to his total. While at first furious with the dishonesty from the driver, rather than snapping, he decided to implement this principle and think from the driver’s perspective. 100 rupees. That’s about 1.5 SGD. It seemed negligible to him. It seems negligible to you and I. However, that same 100 rupees would have made a significant difference in the driver's life, perhaps providing his next meal. This was by no means a justification for the principle violation the driver had made, but it calmed Cutler down. He ended up paying the driver, and leaving the cab with a sense of peace and satisfaction, having avoided conflict and perhaps making the driver’s day. Cutler explains how crucial it is to place yourself in the shoes of the other person to realize why they are acting the way they are. To realize that it is their nature to be compassionate, and it is only other experiences that have moved them further from this. This allows us to create a sense of empathy for the person, despite them wronging us. By doing this, even if their actions are not justified, your approach will lead to a happier and more positive interaction.

I want to leave you with a picture. You're sitting at home, laptop neatly placed on your desk, mind blank with pure focus and tranquility. Besides the clicking of your fingers on the smooth keyboard, the only sound you can hear is the slight creaking of the plastic fan above you. You’re in a state of pure tranquility, trying to prep for the hundreds of upcoming finals next week. And then it hits you, the blaring sound of heavy metal rock comes flooding in from the neighbor’s house, ruining your concentration. You put your head down, trying to focus harder in the hopes that it will drown out the noise, but he just keeps turning it louder and louder. A sensation of annoyance slowly turns to anger as you get up from your chair, exit the house and storm over to his house. You bang your fist on the door and hear the music abruptly stop, followed by your neighbor appearing at the door. You’re faced with your Konstantin, you can scream at him for his ignorance and lack of manners, or you can ignore your anger and calmly ask him to turn it down. Which path will you take?

When I was 11, I made the wrong choice. I chose the quick and easy path of anger. I led myself to believe that Konstantin had deserved that punch because he was a genuinely bad person with no morals. I believed him to be a bad person and lashed out, not because I’m an angry person, but because I chose not to reach down into my innate self and follow the path of compassion. In the heat of the moment, I saw only an enemy in Konstantin; now, with every Konstantin I come across, I see an opportunity for compassion. When I was 11, I made the wrong choice, I don’t ever want to be 11 again.