Lojong Practice Journal: Don’t talk about injured limbs
The 59 slogans through a social justice lens
The slogan “Don’t talk about injured limbs” is one I’ve understood to mean that we should not gossip about others’ shortcomings but its phrasing bothers me. The implication is that an injured limb is a failing, a fault, an imperfection. This wording is an example of the ableism that runs through many traditional Buddhist teachings. In many translations, it’s not remotely subtle. The translation used by Kelsang Gyatso (p.91, Universal Compassion) is written as, “Do not speak about degenerated limbs.” In the case of Dilgo Khyentse’s commentary (p.73, Enlightened Courage), physical disabilities are practically conflated with moral shortcomings and ignorance:
“We should not discuss the handicaps of others. If they cannot see or walk well, if they are not intelligent or even if they have transgressed their vows, we should not call them blind, cripples, idiots, etc.”
You may be wondering why this matters because surely, we shouldn’t gossip about disabilities? And of course we shouldn’t, but this slogan is about wise speech when it comes to how we talk about other people’s imperfections, and disability is not an imperfection. This slogan is a reminder not to talk about the faults of others’ as if we are superior. Sort of the “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone” of the Buddhist canon, with “sin” equating to ways we mess up because we are human. The point is that we shouldn’t gossip about others as if our shit doesn’t stink.
I strive to be aware of how the language we use frames the attitudes we have. Words can reinforce systems we have all been born into — systems that consistently rank human worth and value across all levels of society. Pausing to consider a word and its social implication is a significant part of my practice. A year ago, I wouldn’t have noticed the ableist phrasing of this slogan, but now it’s as obvious to me as sexist language in Buddhism has always been.
It speaks volumes about social attitudes and beliefs to equate an injured limb to a fault. And when I say ‘fault’, I mean any of the number of things we humans do as a result of passion, aggression, and ignorance. Faults are prejudiced implicit biases and ill-informed opinions. Faults are fixed ideas of ourselves or others that keep us trapped in habitual patterns of harm. Faults are the edges we work with as complex beings who can be both incredibly compassionate and incredibly cruel. An injured limb is not a fault. That’s just an injured limb. Being abled doesn’t equate to superiority, nor is it an advantaged embodiment for waking up.
It could seem like I am disregarding this slogan with this very commentary. Here I am, pointing out a flaw in the choice of the translator! But again, this slogan isn’t saying we can’t offer constructive criticism or that we should throw our discernment out the window. By naming the ableism in the translations and commentaries on this slogan, I’m not laying blame on any one individual but pointing at the cultural pervasiveness of ableism. We live in an ableist society and so we have all absorbed ableist biases. I’m owning my own growing awareness of ableism, how I’ve absorbed it, and how I’m working to unlearn it.
I did find a translation that wasn’t so problematic in Traleg Kyabgon’s book, The Practice of Lojong: “Don’t talk about others’ weak points.” This is an example of a translation that doesn’t equate an individual’s shortcomings with a disability, and gets to the heart of this slogan’s guidance.
No one is a perfect, flawless being who gets it right all the time — ourselves included. This is why we should examine our motivations before we open our mouths to say something about someone’s shortcomings. Are we pointing to someone else’s flaws so we don’t have to look at our own? Are we about to speak from a place of thinking we are better than someone else, as if we aren’t products of the same conditioning? Are we speaking from a place of condescension, or a place of compassion?
When we focus on and talk about other people’s weak points, we are often doing so in order to give ourselves a sense of superiority. It’s also something we do to put blame on an individual, rather than seeing the reality of systemic and cultural issues. When we fixate on someone as being a “bad” person, it renders us incapable of seeing them as full, complex beings as capable of waking up as anyone else. It also absolves us of looking at the work we have to do as people living in and influenced by the same culture.
Originally published on Medium.
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"Don't talk about injured limbs." Now I take that, at first sight, to mean: Stop complaining and whining about your aches and pains. When I was a child, visiting my grandparents, I was often there when they had elderly relatives over for coffee and the conversation would unfailingly turn to the latest trip to the doctor and to the various ailments they suffered from. I thought to myself: "I hope I never start talking about illnesses and pains. This is so boring." Now I've reached an age where I myself complain of various ills and pains and I catch myself and think: "You have become your grandparents."
It would seem that my first interpretation of the slogan is wrong. That it means in fact not to talk about other people's injured limbs (I want to keep that phrase for now). Why would one talk about other people's injured limbs? One reason might be to commiserate with the person in question. What happened? Does it hurt? Do you need any help? These questions seem to me quite natural. In fact it would be rude to ignore that someone suddenly wears a bandage or has a cast. However, the next step is more tricky. Say the person in question tells you that she broke her leg while skiing. At that point judgment might stick up its ugly head. "Skiing? Everyone knows that skiing is dangerous. Serves her right."
I think it is the judgmental part that is dangerous. And this is probably most evident when it comes to physical handicaps (I am sorry, I cannot bring myself to use phrases like "differently abled" because they gloss over reality). You meet someone in a wheelchair and think: "Would I want to live like that?" So there is a judgement about what sort of life is livable. I can't help it. These thoughts arise. And then you meet people. A year ago our so I was travelling home late one evening and in the train there was a woman with an electric wheelchair and we started talking. She had been at a film festival in another city and had there taken photographs and collected autographs of celebrities. That was her hobby. She travelled all over the country from one festival to the other. She showed me the autograph books and some of the photos she'd taken. Of course, travelling by wheelchair is a challenge. Not all trains are equipped to accommodate wheelchairs, one has to ask for help in advance. This woman had conquered all those difficulties. She was cheerful and full of beans. So here I was with my preconceived notions about what life in a wheelchair implies and I realised that I had a very narrow view of what is possible.
So, what does that mean in terms of this slogan? Maybe: don't fixate on the injured limb, see everything else that is still there. Don't fixate on physical perfection. Or any sort of perfection. Perfection is an illusion and doesn't make people happy.