If we commit any of the secondary downfalls, we damage our Bodhisattva vows but we do not actually break them.  But this doesn’t mean they are not important.  Our secondary vows serve as the foundation for our root vows, so by weakening our secondary vows we increase the likelihood of likewise breaking our root vows.  To actually break our vows, we need to decide to no longer follow the bodhisattva path.  We need to decide we are no longer interested in working for the sake of others or we no longer wish to become a Buddha or follow the Buddhist path.  If we have not come to such a decision, then our vows are not completely broken.  Geshe-la explains that, in our tradition at least, the actual vow we take when we take the Bodhisattva vows is to maintain the intention to one day become a Buddha, and we work gradually with all the vows trying to keep them in increasingly qualified ways. 

The secondary downfalls are divided according to which of the six perfections they support.  In many ways, we can consider the different vows associated with each of the perfections as like the framework within which we practice the perfection according to the Lamrim teachings.  From another perspective, we can consider these vows as actual methods for actualizing each of the perfections within our mind.  In other words, it is by practicing the vows associated with the perfection of giving that we actually ripen this perfection within our mind.

Downfalls that obstruct the practice of giving

Not making offerings to the Three Jewels every day. 

Offerings to the Three Jewels can be physical, verbal, or mental.  If a day passes without us making any of these three, we incur a secondary downfall.  This vow also advises us to accumulate merit every day by making offerings.

Traditionally, at home we have a shrine where we keep our Buddha statues and in front of which we engage in our daily practice.  Even if it is only a corner of some room, we should consider this space to be very precious and we should treat it accordingly.  We should try, to the maximum extent possible, only do Dharma things when we enter this physical space.  We can, if we wish, imagine a protection circle around this space and when we enter it, we actually enter into the pure land.  On our shrine, we traditionally set out 7 water bowls of offerings, each representing a different substance.  We can read about these in the Lamrim commentaries, such as in Joyful Path of Good Fortune.  When we make our offerings, we shouldn’t feel like we are just putting water in front of some metal statue, rather we should imagine that we are filling the entire universe with pure offerings to the living Buddhas who are actually there. 

If, for whatever reason, we are unable to actually physically set out water bowls, etc., we can put flowers, crystals and other precious objects in front of our shrine as our offerings.  But we shouldn’t have a Buddha image without some sort of offering in front of it, even if it is only a small candy.

Physical offerings aside, the best offerings we can make is our own practice of Dharma.  In reality, the Buddhas don’t need our offerings at all – we are the ones who need to make them so we can create the karma associated with doing so.  The offering that pleases the Buddhas the most is our own practice of their instructions.  Their entire reason for attaining enlightenment was to help lead us to the same state.  They can’t, however, bestow enlightenment on us like some present.  We must transform our own mind from a deluded, samsaric state into a pure, enlightened state.  How?  By putting into practice the instructions they have given us.  We do this with our virtuous actions of body, speech, and mind.  Therefore, every day when we do our daily practice, or throughout the day when we try to apply the instructions we have learned, we should imagine that we are doing so in front of all the Buddhas, and in particular our Spiritual Guide, and we should mentally engage in our virtuous action as an offering to them.

When we do this, our mind is primarily filled with gratitude and hopeful anticipation.  Gratitude with respect to their kindness in having given us the instructions and the opportunity to practice, and hopeful anticipation knowing that due to our practice we are building for ourselves a better future.  It is not enough to just “have faith” when we don’t know what that means.  From a practical perspective, it means we have gratitude and hopeful anticipation.  We know the value of what we have been given (admiring faith) and we are grateful for the opportunity to practice it (wishing faith).  On the basis of this we engage in the action knowing that by doing so we are moving closer to our eventual enlightenment (believing faith).

Giving up bodhichitta. 

This vow says if, due to self-cherishing or discouragement, we give up our bodhichitta motivation we incur a root downfall.  To give up our bodhichitta motivation does not mean forgetting it sometimes, rather it means we actively make the decision to stop helping somebody.

Often times when we hear this, we are far more likely to fall into the extreme of indulging others in their delusions and negativity.  We remain in dysfunctional or even abusive relationships with people because we “don’t want to abandon them” or we think we don’t want to abandon helping them.  To protect against this tendency, we need to conjoin our love and compassion with a little bit of wisdom.  The bottom line is we don’t help people by indulging them in their delusions and negativities.  To take an easy example, if somebody is abusing us we are not helping them by allowing them to do so.  We may think we are helping them by sticking around, but unless there are very unique circumstances, we are not actually helping them.  Perhaps our fear of leaving them kidnaps the instruction on not abandoning our bodhichitta and uses that as the justification for why we never leave. Or perhaps we have fallen into a savior or martyr complex, which is quite different than qualified bodhichitta. All these are mistakes.  Us remaining in deluded relationships enables them to create all sorts of negative karma towards us, and we wind up wasting our precious opportunity by remaining trapped. 

Yes, we may be able to transform their abuse, but that doesn’t mean we couldn’t also transform the challenges associated with no longer being with them.  If all situations are equally transformable since they are all equally empty, then this can’t be a reason for staying or leaving.  Instead, the question is what is the least deluded and most virtuous course of action for all concerned?  It takes enormous spiritual strength to leave a relationship when it needs to be done.  Sometimes the most spiritually challenging thing to do is not stick around, but leave.

But doesn’t this “abandon” the other person?  We think, “I am helping them somewhat in the good times and if I left they would have nothing good in their life and they would get worse, so I need to stick around for them.”  But it is also equally possible that the best way we can help somebody is by our absence.  Sometimes our absence is more helpful than our presence – either because they are then forced to learn how to stand on their own two feet or perhaps they realize there are natural consequences to their actions.  It all depends upon the context of the situation.

The test I use to decide whether it makes sense to stick around is very simple:

1. Do I have the spiritual capacity to stick around without being destroyed myself in the process?  If no, then leave.  If yes, proceed to question 2.
2. Is the other person genuinely, from their own side, trying to get better and change themselves?   If no, then leave.  You will never change them.   Only they can change themselves.  If they are only trying to get better because you said you would leave if they don’t, then as soon as you take them back, they will revert back to their old bad habits and you will have to make threats again.  This is no way to live a life.  If yes, they are trying to change, proceed to question 3.
3. Do I have some obvious alternative where I could be helping far more people if I left?  If no, then stay.  If yes, then leave.  We can think of the example of Buddha Shayamuni.  He was married and had kids, but he had very clear indications that he could help far more people by leaving his relationship.  But we also need to get real here – how many of us are poised to become the next Buddha Shakyamuni?  In modern times, the overwhelming majority of the cases will be its best to stay in our normal relationship nexus.  But it can be, depending upon our circumstances, that there is very little holding us in a given context and it is clear we could bring greater benefit by moving on. 

But even if we leave somebody physically, this does not mean we have broken this vow.  In our hearts, we never abandon anybody.  In our bodhichitta, we never abandon anybody.  The way we help others will vary all the time – sometimes with our presence, sometimes with our absence – but our wish and determination to help them never varies.  Ultimately, the best way we can help them is by attaining enlightenment for them. Then we will have the ability to remain with them every day, in this and their countless future lives, and we will have both the wisdom and skillful means to actually be able to help. Temporary help is good, but we should never sacrifice the ultimate help we can provide on the altar of the temporary help we might be able to give now, especially if all we are really doing by providing that temporary help is create dependency, preventing them from learning how to stand on their own two feet.

Speaking falsely about profound emptiness. 

This vow says if we lack a correct understanding of emptiness and yet teach emptiness to others, claiming with a selfish motivation that we have a direct realization of emptiness, we incur a root downfall.

I don’t know anybody who claims to have a direct realization of emptiness, so I think there is little danger of any of us incurring this root downfall, but there is a danger of us committing a similitude of this downfall.  Those who have some notions of emptiness know how much fun it is to debate and discuss it.  Few, if any, of us have a correct understanding.  Yet when we speak, we have a natural tendency to speak as if we were to a certain extent an authority on the subject.  I, for one, do this all the time.  Even though I am not engaging in a root downfall, I am certainly quite frequently engaging in a similitude of this downfall.  I need to stop this.

This does not mean we can’t discuss emptiness.  Rather it means we need to make it abundantly clear to any potential reader or listener that what we are explaining is just our personal understanding of what the teachings mean, but everyone who reads or listens to our explanations should take them with a grain of salt and investigate these matters for themselves. 

There is nothing more important in this world than realizing emptiness.  The only way to escape from a prison with no doors is to wake up from the dream in which we are trapped in such a prison.  Realizing emptiness is how we do this.  Given its importance, this is something we must discuss all the time; but given its importance, it is something we must discuss in a correct and skillful way.

Accepting property that has been stolen from the Three Jewels. 

We incur this downfall if we accept goods that we know have been stolen from the Three Jewels.  We do not incur this downfall if we accept something that we do not know has been stolen.

If have even a suspicion that something we are using has been stolen from the three jewels, then it is our responsibility to ask the question to make sure we are not stealing.  If we don’t, we are incurring a similitude of this downfall.  If we know, or have reason to believe, that somebody else has stolen something from the three jewels and through our actions we somehow lend legitimacy to their claim over the object, then I think this is also an example of accepting property that has been stolen from the three jewels. 

If we have it within our power to return property that has been stolen and we fail to do so, then I also think this is a similitude of a downfall. 

Making bad rules. 

Those in charge of spiritual communities incur this downfall if they make rules that unnecessarily interfere with pure Dharma practice, such as having business activities take precedence over the practice of meditation.

We have to be careful with understanding this.  The development model of the NKT is one of indigenous growth.  In other words, things are built in dependence upon the extent to which a local sangha is willing to do the work to build it.  A mother center may provide some initial support to get a branch class of the ground, but the expectation is after that initial start up support, the center is basically on their own until they reach a sufficiently big size that they are in a position to buy some building or start taking on full-time staff.  Then there is another period of brief support which quickly ends, and the now larger center is basically on its own until it reaches the point where it could become a KMC.  The NKT takes no outside money from anybody.  The Dharma cannot flourish in this world without the underlying supporting physical infrastructure.  This requires both money and labor on the part of the local sangha. 

Causing others to abandon the Pratimoksha. 

We incur a root downfall if we cause an ordained person to give up their Vinaya practice saying that it is not relevant to the Mahayana path.

I know some very senior ordained teachers who talk of women effectively throwing themselves at them.  The temptations must be great indeed.  To engage in actions which cause somebody to lose their ordination, which we can do merely with some wrong words spoken, is, in my view, to commit spiritual murder, or at the very least to assist in somebody’s suicide. 

I am aware of the fact that these are dramatic words.  But when somebody gets ordained, their old ordinary self quite literally dies and a new being is born, Kelsang Something or Another.  If that person disrobes, the person who was formerly known as Kelsang whatever quite literally dies, vanishing from this earth. 

We sometimes think ordained people are so strong, and sometimes the recently ordained think everything will now be so easy.  But both views are wrong.  One of my teachers once said, “getting married is easy, it is staying married where the real work is.  In the same way, getting ordained is easy, it is staying ordained where the real work is.”  Just as we would be careful to not encourage others to do things which might jeopardize their marriage, so too we need to be careful to not encourage ordained people to do things which might jeopardize their ordination. 

This vow does not only apply to the ordained Pratimoksha vows, but it also applies to the lay Pratimoksha vows (though the negative karma is greater with the ordained vows).  If we knew somebody was an alcoholic, we certainly wouldn’t invite them to a bar or put them in situations that might cause them to relapse.  In the same way, taking the Pratimoksha vows is like the alcoholic who stops drinking.  But there are tremendous tendencies within us to relapse back into our old samsaric ways.  Samsaraholics Anonymous does not exist, but it should.  And we should be just as considerate towards not leading those who have taken such vows into temptation as we would of our friends addicted to drugs, cigarettes or alcohol.

Belittling the Hinayana. 

We incur a root downfall if we have a disrespectful opinion of the Hinayana path, maintaining that it does not lead to actual liberation.  One of the most useful concepts in the Dharma is the notion of common and uncommon paths.  When I was growing up, we had a split-level house.  Halfway up the stairs, things branched off and I could go outside for example, or I could keep going up all the way and make it to my room.  It is impossible for me to get to my room without taking those first stairs, but I don’t need to take them if all I want to do is go outside.  In this way, the first half of the stairs are “common” to both paths, and the second half of the stairs is part of the “uncommon” path.  Both the person who wants to go outside and the person who wants to go to the top floor must use the first half of the stairs, but only the person who wants to go to the top floor must do all the stairs.  For such a person to belittle the first half of the stairs is to deny themselves part of their path.

In the same way, all the paths to liberation are “common” to the Mahayana path, they are part of our path.  So to belittle them is to belittle the very foundation of our eventual enlightenment.

Few among us, though would actually outright belittle those who travel other paths, but there are many subtle levels where we do this.  First, it is not uncommon for Mahayana practitioners to, even if only internally, generate pride thinking they are somehow better because than those travelling another path that leads only to liberation. 

Second, when we speak with people from the Theravadin tradition, or other traditions that seek only liberation, we need to be mindful that some of them consider it insulting to call them “Hinayanists,” the translation of which means “lesser vehicle.”  Now in the context of the Mahayana teachings (“great vehicle”) we don’t mean it in an insulting way, we use the term merely to differentiate between the intermediate and the great scope.  But that doesn’t change the fact that it is quite understandable why they could find it insulting for us to refer to them in that way.  So when we speak with them, or when we speak in public forums where they might be present, we should show appropriate consideration.

Third, another common way in which we effectively belittle the Hinayana is in how we actually practice the Dharma.  We show a bias towards the great scope meditations and especially our tantric meditations, and pay little attention to the initial and intermediate scope meditations.  Everyone enjoys meditating on love and the self-generation as the deity, but it is a little less fun to meditate on death, the lower realms, the sufferings of samsara and technical subjects like the 12 dependent-related links.  So we generally tend to avoid these meditations and focus on the ones we enjoy.  Of course these higher level meditations are wonderful in and of themselves, but their real power is only uncovered when they are engaged in on the solid foundation of the earlier meditations.  We can generate worldly compassion and love without the earlier meditations, and this is a good thing, but if we want to generate spiritual compassion and love (meaning concern about other’s future lives), then we need these earlier meditations.  We cannot generate a qualified compassion without first generating a qualified renunciation.  We cannot generate a qualified renunciation without first generating a qualified fear of lower rebirth and a realization of our own death. 

There is of course nothing wrong with engaging in the higher meditations without having built the foundation within our mind, the point is our higher meditations will only be as qualified as the foundation we have built.  We still should train in all the meditations from the very beginning because each meditation informs all the others, but our qualified realization of a higher meditation will never outstrip the extent to which we have qualified realizations of the lower meditations.  Engaging in advanced tantric practices are good, but they will only produce their declared benefits when done with the proper foundations. 

Explaining emptiness to those who are likely to misunderstand. 

We incur a root downfall if we teach emptiness in an unskillful way and cause those who are listening to develop serious and harmful misunderstandings.  Emptiness is very easily misunderstood, and it is not difficult to unintentionally explain a nihilistic view.  We normally remain on the extreme of existence, but it does not take much to swing to the other side and become overzealous in our explanations. 

As a general rule, we should make sure that our wisdom understanding emptiness does not outstrip our compassion.  This will protect us from falling into the extreme of non-existence, or falling into the extreme of solitary peace.  The only thing emptiness negates is the mode of existence of the world.  Beings still exist, the world still exists, suffering is still experienced.  We go places, things happen, etc.  But it is all taking place in a karmic dream and none of it is any more real than last night’s dream.  But just because it is a dream does not mean it doesn’t matter what happens in it.  For as long as beings grasp at the dream as being real, they suffer terribly within it.  Just as it is appropriate to come to the aid of somebody we think is real, so too if we are in a dream it is appropriate to come to the aid of somebody in the dream.  They suffer, we can help, so we do so. 

In fact, it is impossible to fully unwind the dream of samsara without a measure of compassion because if others are empty, then their minds and indeed their very lives are part of our dream.  An ocean cannot be tamed by calming a single wave.  The sign that our understanding of emptiness is incorrect is we feel there is no harm done by negativity and we think it doesn’t matter what happens to others because they are not real.  The sign that our understanding of emptiness is correct is we feel an overwhelming sense of personal responsibility for whatever happens to anybody because it is all taking place in our dream.  Just as we would expect a good God to care for and protect his creation, so too when we understand emptiness it is a given we must care for everything and everyone because it is all part of the fabric of our mind.  The duality between self and others completely dissolves where it becomes absurd to even think to free oneself without freeing all others.  In fact, for a mind that understands emptiness correctly, such a thought could not even arise.

Causing others to abandon the Mahayana. 

If we cause a Mahayana practitioner to give up their bodhichitta by telling them they will never become a Buddha, and advise them to enter the less demanding Hinayana path, we incur a downfall.

Gen Tharchin explains that the secret to developing unstoppable effort is to understand that all the goals of the spiritual path are indeed eminently doable.  At present we give lip service to the idea of attaining enlightenment, but deep in our heart we think it is an impossible goal far beyond our reach.  When we read the teachings on Tranquil Abiding, much less all the grounds and paths of a bodhisattva, we realize we have barely even begun our training, even if we have been applying full effort for many many years.  Not seeing how it is possible, we may think it would be nice to be a Buddha but besides the words which fall from our lips about it, there is no fire in our belly to really go for it. 

The deep truth of emptiness is if we cannot keep the flame of Dharma alive in our own mind, it will become extinguished from the world we perceive, and all we dream will be lost.  But if we can become like an immovable vajra and the flame of Dharma is never extinguished from our own mind, it is just a question of time before we are all free.  The bitter cruelty of samsara is also its greatest weakness – it is a self-imposed prison.  There is literally nothing which can stop us from walking straight out its door other than our failure to make the decision to do so.  Once we decide to leave and we have seen through its lies, nothing can stop us.  It still may take a very long time, but nothing can stop us. 

We may love our children, for example, very much and be willing to do anything for them.  But if we die without having secured our spiritual future, who will look after them?  Can we trust the task to anybody else?  But if we can place our mind on the firm grounding of the clear light, death for us will be no different than falling asleep at night knowing we will awake the next day to continue our work.  We do not recognize all the beings around us as our past mothers or our past children, but as we become firm in our wisdom we will see and recall our past time with them, we will understand the long arc of their history and we will know no matter what karmic disguises they or ourselves assume, it is still them and it is still us, and we are still with them gradually guiding them to freedom. 

Discouragement is the killer of more spiritual lives than anything else.  It is our discouragement which enables our attachments to overcome us.  If we do not believe our freedom is possible, we won’t fight for it with all our being, and we will settle for the most comfortable situation we can arrange in samsara.  But if a man’s child or wife were captured, he would not rest – ever – until they were freed.  This is our very situation, and we have the potential to free all them – literally in one go.  The only thing stopping us is nothing. 

Holding wrong views. 

We incur a root downfall if we hold wrong views denying anything that we need to believe in order to achieve liberation.  Examples of this can include rejecting any of the stages of the path, such as the need to rely upon a Spiritual Guide, karma, the four noble truths, the disadvantages of self-cherishing, bodhichitta, emptiness, Tantra, etc. 

There is a difference between holding wrong views and having doubts or questions.  Doubts and questions are normal, and in fact are a good thing if we use them as fuel to deepen our understandings.  Holding wrong views also does not mean not yet believing or understanding a given instruction.  Holding wrong views means we come to a definite conclusion that something in the Dharma is wrong and we are right, without us having an open mind about the question.  If we have a valid reason why it is wrong, we don’t incur this fault.  But 99 times out of 100 (well actually 100 times out of a 100) if we have such a valid reason it will be refuting some wrong understanding of the Dharma, not a correct understanding.  All correct understandings of the Dharma seem eminently reasonable when properly understood, even if they are nonetheless quite radical notions. 

In general we can say our gaining of realizations occurs in a progression.  We start out with wrong views about pretty much everything.  The first step is conceding it is better to have an open mind and to admit that we don’t really know, but we intend to investigate the matter more carefully.  As we start to do this, our wrong views start transforming into doubts tending towards a wrong view.  We continue to investigate and ask questions, and eventually these doubts start tending towards the correct view.  We continue to probe and to test and eventually we might start getting the initial inklings of faith in a given object.  We think, “this idea in the Dharma is probably right and I am probably just understanding it wrong, so I better keep checking.”  Eventually this believing faith becomes stronger and we start to develop admiring faith thinking how much better our life would be if only we realized fully this particular idea.  This admiring faith then transforms into wishing faith, where we genuinely want to gain this particular understanding.  This wishing faith then transform into effort to actually gain the realization.  With effort comes experience, and with experience comes valid reasons which then are used to support what are called “valid cognizers” about some subject.  A valid cognizer moves beyond faith to personal wisdom on a subject, but even this is not strong enough.  We keep investigating, keep testing, keep contemplating until eventually these inferential cognizers transform into direct perceivers of the truth of the particular idea of the Dharma.  We see directly it is exactly true.  We continue to increase the power of our direct perceivers until eventually they transform into yogic direct perceivers, where we realize the truth of the given subject directly with our very subtle mind of great bliss mixed with emptiness.  These are called yogic direct perceivers.  Our goal is to eventually attain yogic direct perceivers of every single stage of the path.  Once we have done so, we will swiftly become a Buddha! 

Destroying places such as towns. 

We incur a root downfall if, with a bad motivation, we willfully destroy a place of habitation or an environment.  Unless we are a political leader, it is unlikely we could incur this downfall by physically destroying a town or somebody’s home.  But this is something that can easily happen, for example, with respect to insect colonies. 

It is also entirely likely we could incur this downfall, or at least a similitude of it, in many other ways.  For example, if we were to engage in sexual misconduct with somebody who is married, this could easily destroy that person’s home, which is even worse if kids are involved.  It does not take sexual misconduct to destroy somebody else’s home, depending on the circumstances it may only take a few words of divisive speech. Even if the communities are not completely destroyed, they can easily be sufficiently disrupted that they are never the same again.   

Likewise, in the modern world, places are not limited to the physical world, but can also include virtual environments, such as on-line communities.  Divisive or hurtful speech can easily destroy the harmony of a community, ruining it for all.  Witness virtually every social media platform ever created.

Sometimes it is also possible to destroy a community by not doing what is required to save it if it is within our power to do so.  The circumstances of living beings are vast, and it makes little karmic difference between actively destroying a community and not saving one when we otherwise could. It is, however, possible that actions such as these may become necessary depending upon the circumstances.  But we need tremendous wisdom to know whether it is appropriate to do so, and we must make sure that our mind is completely free from delusion and governed only by concern for others.  To take an easy example, if somebody is being abused by their partner and you encourage and aid them to escape from the abusive relationship, you may be destroying somebody’s home but it is an act of compassion not only for the victim but also for the abuser.   

Committing the five heinous actions.

The five heinous actions are actions that are so karmically awful that, barring some very unique circumstances, if we commit them, it is guaranteed we will take a lower rebirth in our next life.  The five heinous actions are:  killing one’s father, killing one’s mother, killing a Foe Destroyer, maliciously wounding a Buddha, and causing a schism within the Sangha.

There is little chance of us committing the first four, but it is quite easy to do at least a similitude of the fifth.  Anytime we engage in divisive speech with respect to anybody within the Sangha, we are committing a similitude of this action.  If we are a teacher or a senior member of a local center who has some degree of authority, we need to be especially careful to avoid this.  This happens most frequently in the context of discussing who is doing what work for the center.  Every Dharma center on the planet is understaffed and overworked.  There is not a single exception to this rule, I am sure.  This fact can quickly lead to resentment by the people who “do all the work” against those who “just come to the center as consumers and leave.”  Usually those who “do all the work” start talking badly about the “consumers,” and they use the Dharma they have learned to judge other members in the Sangha.  When they talk to the “consumers” they quite often will use the Dharma as a means of trying to manipulate the other person into doing more, or they will whine and complain about how they have to do all the work and nobody is helping out.  This, I think, is a nearly universal story in Dharma centers around the world.  It’s quite natural, when you think about it.

But it is also completely the wrong way to approach things.  The work of a Dharma center is by definition infinite.  We are, after all, working continuously until all the problems of all living beings for all their lives have been solved.  No matter how much more the people of a center “contribute” there will always be more work to do that needs to be done.  Clearly, the solution can’t lie in just getting people to work more.  What is required is a change in the center’s cultural attitudes towards working for the center.  If we relate to working for a center as “chores” and “tasks that grudgingly must be done” then our optic is completely wrong, and it is this attitude, more than anything else, that is creating obstacles to people stepping up and working for the center.  When we feel manipulated or judged, what do we do?  We resist and resent.  Others are no different.  So even if our manipulations succeed in getting the other person to do more or give more, they will be doing so out of guilt or resentment, not joy at the opportunity. 

If we were told we could go into our favorite store, and we had a half an hour to grab anything we wanted, what would our attitude be?  Our biggest concern would be not having enough time and not being able to grab enough things.  This is exactly what our attitude should be towards working for a center.  A Dharma center is a karmic gold mine we are given the keys to.  Each thing we do to help a Dharma center literally creates infinite pure karma because the center exists for the pure benefit of infinite living beings.  Just as it is a bit of work to pick up the items we want in the store as we race around, so too it is a bit of work to pick up the karmic gems from helping out.  We wouldn’t begrudge the effort it takes to pick up and put in our cart a new watch, so why do we begrudge the minimal effort it takes to create such pure karma for ourselves?  If other people don’t want to take advantage of the opportunity, that is unfortunate for them, but it is their choice.  It is because we want them to seize the opportunity that we must not try manipulate them to do things for the center.  Our manipulation will create obstacles more than anything else. 

Instead, we should show the example of somebody who joyfully is doing everything they can, and instead of bemoaning having to do everything we just feel lucky to have the opportunity we have.  When others see our joy and our enthusiasm, they will quite naturally seek to join in the fun.  And even if they don’t, what difference does it make to you?  Perhaps centers need to adjust their expectations of what all can get done, and some things will have to be set aside.  Such is life in a world of finite resources and time.  But we should use all these constraints as fuel for our bodhichitta, thinking not “others should help out more” but instead think, “I wish I could have emanations of myself so I could do even more.”  When people ask us to do more than we can reasonably do, our answer should not be frustration, rather it should be, “You know, I would really love to be able to help you with that, but I first need to do X, Y and Z so I can’t.  I wish I could, though.  Sorry.” 

Conflict and tension will arise in any human grouping, and it will do so in centers and in any grouping of Sangha.  But how we resolve such conflict and tension can vary considerably.  If we find ourselves “taking sides” or “choosing personalities over substance” or we find ourselves talking badly about others behind their backs, we are on very thin ground.  In general, it is best to reaffirm mutually agreed upon principles that both sides of a given conflict agree on, and then let them apply the principle themselves.  It is better to acknowledge, squarely and honestly, the legitimate views of both sides, even if that runs counter to our desired final objective.  Usually it is best to first encourage people to communicate with each other in a constructive manner before trying to resolve the substance of the matter, but we always speak in terms of “see past how the other person is talking and instead focus on the merits of what they have to say.”  It is almost always better to be a mediator of a given conflict than a protagonists in it, but when we find ourselves as one of the protagonists we should conduct ourselves in a forthright manner and affirm that we seek to resolve the dispute on the substantive merits of the matter at hand, not something extraneous like a dislike of the personalities involved.