Ramadan Challenge: Buddhaficiation Fail

caveat: the power in my site went out. This is posted at a later date.

I decided to participate in Ramadan this year, but with my own spin of events. In addition to observing the fasting times, I decided to follow the eight precepts of Buddhism that one undertakes during holy festivals. Those eight precepts are to avoid the following:

1.) Harming living beings.
2.) Taking things not freely given.
3.) Sexual misconduct.
4.) False speech.
5.) Alcohol and drugs.
6.) Taking untimely meals.
7.) Grotesque dancing, singing, music, or movies.
8.) Use of jewelry, perfumes, or high seats.

Numbers two through eight were easy, though I wonder if Beetlejuice and Eddie Izzard: Dress to Kill fall under the grotesque category. My problem was with number one. I can’t even count how many ants I’ve washed down my drain while doing dishes, nor can I imagine how many animals I’ve tread over while stumbling around outside at one in the morning looking for the bathroom. But I had two instances in particular that make me realize that I have a lot of work to do in regards to compassion, loving kindness, and equanimity.

One of the first nights of Ramadan, I had two friends over. I had the windows open to let in fresh air. During the course of the evening, however, the children of the village began to press their faces against my windows. I decided to close the windows. I usually hang my towel on one of the windows in my room so that it, too, can air out. I grabbed the towel as I usually do and flicked it before closing the window. But for some reason, the towel felt like it had weight to it. I closed the window, turned around, and learned the reason for it. On the floor was a scorpion, approximately four inches long, not including the tail. Princess Leia came into my room to discuss the sleeping arrangement and sees the scorpion, too. I wasn’t sure what I was feeling at the time; I knew that I was following the eight precepts, and technically, the black scorpions aren’t deadly, and it was just sort of lying there. It wasn’t that I didn’t want it dead; I couldn’t think of a way to guide it to the front door. Princess Leia, on the other hand, instinctively grabbed the rock that I use as a door stop, crushed the scorpion, and proceeded to ask about the sleeping arrangement.

The second incident took place the day before the twenty-seventh of Ramadan, referred to as the “Day of Power”. No, everybody does not get to finally eat during the day to regain their strength they lost; it is a day of serious prayer, where families try to read the entire Qu’ran in one sitting. I was sitting in my room on a cushion on my floor because of me not using the high seats. Suddenly, I look to my right and see another scorpion headed towards me. Was this a relative of the previous scorpion, ready to fight me to restore his family’s honor? Was this a lover of the previous scorpion, willing to send itself on a suicide mission in order to be with his beloved? I don’t know. What I do know it that I was determined to not kill it this time. I sat quietly and watched it for a while. Finally, the scorpion lost interest in me, turned around, and walked away from me. Of course, the direction it headed was to my bed. I didn’t get much sleep that night, because I kept looking at my bug netting to make sure that it wasn’t trying to climb up into my bed. Fortunately, it didn’t, and I managed to get to sleep.

However, something did wake me up in the middle of the night. I awoke to the sound of scratching on my window. Already unable to calm down, I lifted the net, slipped out of bed, ran across the room and flipped on the light. The scorpion was nowhere to be found. What I did see, however, was a camel spider crawling along my window, losing its footing, and landing on my bug net in the location just above my pillow. I stood and watched as it slowly made its way down the net and onto the floor; its eight protrusions pulling the brown mass of twisted arachnid body towards me. I took this time to curse my family for having me watch Arachnaphobia when I was a small child.

I remembered the night of the scorpion. I thought if I could teach myself to let a scorpion go, then I can let this creature go, too. I continued to stand there for about half an hour and slow down my heart rate, but nothing worked. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I have seen scorpions and spiders like this all of the time, and have been able to let them go. But this was my bedroom. I needed to get some sleep. I know its psychological and that the creatures can get into my bedroom beneath my door, but the fact that I knew it was right there stopped me from sleeping.

I heard a knock at my door and let in my landlord, who was carrying a bowl of couscous. I thanked him, grabbed a spray can of bug killer, and went back to my room. My landlord followed me and watched as I sprayed the spider until it stopped moving. He then shook his head and grabbed something to carry the spider outside. He told me that there was nothing to fear, and that those spiders don’t bite people.

There is a saying attributed to the Buddha that I will paraphrase. In darkness, the fool mistakes a rope for a snake. I couldn’t have known the spider posed no problem, but that shouldn’t have been my concern. I had made a promise to not harm living beings, at least for this month, and I failed at it.

As I watched my landlord continue to shake his head at me, two thoughts ran through my mind. One, the men in my site don’t seem to be scared of anything, and the fact that I do get scared of these things, while they don’t have any emotional reaction, bothers me for some reason And two, I wondered if one of the spider’s family members or lovers would come back to face me like their cousins of the scorpion family did.