Looking Back, Then Moving Forward: The Benefits and Traps of Reflecting on Karma
Last week we looked at what it means to live a life of purpose when the puzzle we were working on is gone. The point I hoped to make is that purpose may come not from the puzzle itself, but from the curiosity and generativity that created it.Several people told me afterward that the talk spoke to them, especially those changing jobs or newly retired, and it got me thinking about Erik Erikson’s last two stages of development: generativity versus stagnation, when we pour our energy into caring for others, and integrity versus despair, when we look back and either make peace with the life we’ve lived or can’t.In the busy years, it can be hard to make time to ask whether we’re living in line with our deepest values. I think it’s worth doing anyway.Reflecting on how we live makes us sensitive to our karma. The suttas say some karma ripens in this very life, and the Buddha is reported to have urged his son to watch his actions closely and feel their effects: remorse for what harmed himself or others, gladness for what was wholesome and kind. Remorse, met with curiosity, helps us grow. Happiness at our past conduct sustains us.The practice can be simple. Each morning I set an intention to be calm, kind, and affirming. Each night, as I fall asleep, I look back on the day. When I lived up to it, a peace comes over me. When I didn’t, I get curious: what happened in my mind, what desire took over, what might I do differently tomorrow?The practice has traps. It can turn scrupulous, leading to obsession over every small action. And we can mistake a single bad deed for a verdict on who we are. The antidote is remembering that we aren’t fixed selves but changing processes, what the Buddhist teachings call anattā, or not-self. Every day is a fresh chance to show up with calmness, kindness, and generosity.Texts & referencesErik Erikson, Childhood and Society (1950): where he first laid out the eight stagesAN 6.63, Nibbedhika Sutta: intention is kamma; three times of ripeningMN 61, Ambalaṭṭhikarāhulovāda Sutta: the Buddha’s advice to Rāhula, the mirrorSN 22.59, Anattalakkhaṇa Sutta: not mine, not I, not my selfAN 3.99, Loṇakapalla Sutta: the salt crystal in a cup vs. the Ganges (numbered 3.100 in some editions)Iti 22: don’t fear merit; it’s another name for happinessPeter Wohlleben, The Hidden Life of Trees (2016): trees sharing nutrients through fungal networksCorrectionsA few things I got wrong in the talk. The book I called “The Wood Wide Web” is Peter Wohlleben’s The Hidden Life of Trees. I’d mixed it up with Robert Macfarlane’s New Yorker essay, “The Secrets of the Wood Wide Web.” The image I took from it, older trees feeding younger ones through underground networks, is also less settled than I made it sound. A 2023 review in Nature Ecology & Evolution found no published evidence that mature trees send resources to their offspring this way, though the researchers behind that work have pushed back. The uposatha, the monastic gathering I described, happens twice a month, at the new and full moons, not monthly. And I said only a few suttas preserve the Buddha’s advice to his son, Rāhula. There are more: three in the Middle Length Discourses (MN 61, 62 and 147) and a whole collection in the Connected Discourses (SN 18).Photo by Mehrpouya H on Unsplash