c. 1999 Religion News Service

(Les Kaye is the abbot of Kannon Do, the Zen Meditation Center in Mountain View, Calif., and author of “Zen at Work” (Crown, 1997). He teaches meditation in Silicon Valley.)

UNDATED _ The Saturday was sunny and mild. But I was in traffic school because I did something foolish. Approaching a stop sign on a country road with no traffic in sight, failing to spot the well-hidden patrol car, I slowed but did not come to a complete stop. Had the maneuver worked, I would have saved a few seconds and the trouble of shifting through the gears. Instead, it cost me $150 and a day in class.

At the start, the instructor asked each of us to explain what had brought us to traffic school: where, when and why we did what we did. It was an unfolding narrative of collective foolishness. I soon realized that I was in a room with 50 foolish people like myself who had also attempted an unwise tradeoff. Yet at the same time I thought, “Everyone is a Bodhisattva.”

In Buddhism, a Bodhisattva is an “awakened being,” someone who sees reality clearly; whose personal qualities include patience, generosity, morality, energy, good humor and wisdom. The Buddhist understanding is that every one of us, despite our foolishness, is inherently a Bodhisattva.

We are always doing something foolish. We cannot escape it. It comes with being human. Sometimes it’s a small thing we do, sometimes large. Sometimes we do it from misunderstanding a situation, sometimes from poor judgment (as in, “I think I can get away with it”), and sometimes because we get distracted. Nevertheless, though we are foolish, we each have within us the qualities of the Bodhisattva.

Slipping into cynicism when reflecting on the everyday behavior of humanity is easy, so this refreshing insight into the nature of human beings is encouraging and inspiring. Yet hearing the words or just talking about it is not enough to understand its meaning.

Buddhism, particularly the discipline of meditation, emphasizes spiritual practice as the only way to appreciate the true nature of people and things, not just what appears on the surface.

Because we are foolish creatures and quick to judge what we see, we are at risk for failing to understand our fundamental spiritual nature, to know that we are Bodhisattvas. Spiritual practice _ setting aside the limits of the critical, judging mind _ is the remedy to foolishness.

Though people sometimes do foolish things, there is no fundamental reason to be angry with each other. If we have continuous spiritual practice in our life, foolishness does not become a problem, for ourself or for others.

However, without spiritual practice to arouse and encourage our Bodhisattva qualities, foolishness becomes magnified.

If someone cuts me off in traffic, I have the choice of just letting it go by recognizing that someone is being foolish. But if I allow myself to take it personally, to become angry and want to get even, I may, through my own foolishness, create a dangerous situation. So although we may have foolish tendencies, with spiritual practice we can avoid having foolishness create additional foolishness.

I watched film critic Roger Ebert comment on the public excitement created by the release of the latest “Star Wars” feature. Before the film even hit the theaters, people were camping on long lines for expensive tickets and choice seats. This extraordinary enthusiasm was the result of the movie touching people in a spiritual way, Ebert explained. It has myths, heroism, overcoming evil and wisdom. “It even contains some Zen Buddhism,” he said.

It is a good thing when a film _ or a book or a play _ excites our spirituality. We wake up to a part of our self that gets overlooked in the rush of everyday affairs. But after the movie, then what? After the occasional weekend retreat, what next?

Spiritual encouragement that comes from outside ourself cannot last for long. Like candy, the taste soon fades. To feel the depth of spirituality, we have to encourage our self from inside. This is the role of continuous spiritual practice.

Months or years afterward, we may remember the good feeling we had at the movie. Nevertheless, unless we have continuous spiritual practice, the inspiration is just a piece of candy, a one-time special treat. Spirituality is beyond the idea of special treats or experiences. When practice is continuous, we do not require candy or special events to inspire us. Everything we do has the background of spiritual practice so everything feels special, not just one thing or one experience.

Then, although we and others may act foolishly at times, we can see beyond foolishness. We can recognize the inherent Bodhisattva nature in everyone. What a different perspective that brings.

IR END KAYE