Be like dirt
As we’ve now entered the holiday season, I thought that from now until the end of year it could be useful to share my sweetest learnings and Dhamma practices around dealing with difficult people—starting with one of my absolute favorites: the Simile of the Saw, in which the Buddha gives a series of powerful analogies on the importance of equanimity in the face of harsh speech or actions.
But first, a caveat. These teachings do not condone the instigating harshness. They also do not condemn anyone who responds with anger. These teachings, for me, only indicate the high standard for us all to practice towards and—perhaps on our best days, or maybe eventually all of our days—also manage to meet.
Anyway—I became intimately acquainted with this simile a few years ago when I was navigating a fiery hellscape at work.
I’d developed a toxic relationship with my manager in which we each exaggerated the other’s faults and refused to just, like, talk about our feelings like actual adults. We became openly hostile to each other, and the only reason we remained as co-workers was because I hadn’t yet found another job and she hadn’t yet built a strong enough case to fire me. But then she called a Monday meeting… and said that HR would be there, too.
I freaked out and called my spiritual teachers, who advised me to consult the Simile of the Saw.
I did; and though the entire sutta is full of great wisdom, the part that touched my heart—and changed my life—was the Buddha’s analogy of a person who tries to dig up the whole earth. They could try for the rest of their life. They could spit and piss and shout all over the place. But “this great earth is deep and limitless… that person will eventually get weary and frustrated.”
This blew my mind because I previously thought there was certain emotional boiling point at which anyone would surely snap.
But this teaching expanded the possibilities of human equanimity to… infinity. I realized, with sudden and dizzying clarity, that I don’t have to be as patient as the most patient person I know.
I can be as patient as… dirt.
For the whole weekend before that dreaded Monday showdown, I told myself, “Be like dirt,” and meditated with the image and sensation of myself as a dusty patch of soil. Humble as the earth. Be like dirt, be like dirt, be like dirt.
When I met with my manager, sparks of anger came flying at me, but they snuffed out on contact and harmed no one at all.
Through this practice—and through our mutual willingness—we salvaged our relationship. We rebuilt our dynamic with healthy communication techniques, such as stating our needs, checking our understanding, and expressing sincere appreciation. We developed warmth and banter to the point that when I left the company six months later, we gave each other parting gifts and big bear hugs, and said goodbye as friends.
The unfathomable had become reality.
Because I learned to be like dirt.
“Even if bandits were to sever you limb from limb with a two-handled saw, anyone who had a malevolent thought towards them would not be following my instructions.”
—Gotama Buddha, Majjhima Nikaya 21
You know who else had a hard time with conflict?
Monkey King, from my novel Deathless Monkey. At first he could only argue, ridicule, and lash out with violence. But through training with a monk, he gradually learns to “be like dirt.”