Shame on a Tortilla Chip

A classic buddhist allegory that I just read this morning.....ironically:

A big, burly samurai comes to a Zen master and says, "Tell me the nature of heaven and hell.”
The Zen master looks him in the face and says, ”Why should I tell a scruffy, disgusting, miserable slob like you? A worm like you, do you think I should tell you anything?”

Consumed by rage, the samurai draws his sword and raises it to cut off the master’s head.

The Zen master says, "That’s Hell.”

Instantly, the samurai understands that he has just created his own hell-black and hot, filled with hatred, self-protection, anger and resentment.He sees that he was so deep in hell that he was ready to kill someone. Tears fill his eyes as he puts his palms together to bow in gratitude for this insight.

The Zen master says,”That’s heaven.”

And now here's my version. Tonight, I went out with another mom and our four kids to the local Mexican food-joint, our neighborhood hub for kid friendly dining. We're just finishing up and signing the check when the kids start going bananas. Rosie suddenly hates her high chair like Sara Palin, maybe not quite that much but the toddler is dogmatic and really political. And Harp is frolicking loudly in the aisle with her new helium treasure and her school buddy. I'm aching all over, long story, but the gist is too many days on muscle relaxers. The two times I've run after Rose have maxed me and I just want to make a quick exit and get home.

When......this older woman, sitting with her husband and her grown daughter - the only other patrons in the restaurant at the time, grab Harp and her buddy by the shoulders and tell them to shut the hell up. That was my read; she might have told them they had lovely hair and balloons but she grabbed my kid...a stranger grabbed my kid and got in her face.

Well, then Buddhist Bethie go bye bye and this lovely allegory about heaven and hell is nothing more than quaint theory. I stand up, voice restrained but firm, apologize for our noise, say that we'll be leaving soon, but please don't touch my kid. The offending lady sits down, her husband stands up, tells us that we should have been neutered as teenagers, incompetent as we are in child rearing and "controlling" our brood.

I ask, well actually shout my desire for compassion: long day, kids tired, moms tired, just leaving, why so intolerant, so mean? More derision and insults about our children, our parenting, ourselves. Then restraint dissolves into hellfire and suddenly I'm Rambo on this guy, cursing at him as I drag my poor children from our favorite, cozy hang onto the street, but not before I cast the final blow and wish the daughter a good therapist, because with parents like these, she'll need one. Yeah, nice one, good mom. Zen master says "That's Hell......on a tortilla chip."

Pema Chodron, a big buddha woman I love, has some final words of wisdom with the heaven and hell allegory, that "Everything comes into our circle to teach us what we need to know." I guess I know that I hate being angry - at my kids, my partner, my friends, or taco butthead. Heaven? Not even close, but I really hope next time, I can keep a calm voice, a calm mind and eat guacamole rather than a big fat blob of embarrassing shame on my chips. It doesn't have nearly enough garlic.