That could be my mother

Compassion and rebirth are two basic tenets of traditional Buddhism that both came together for me recently as I sat reflecting on how I nearly drove my mother off the road. That incident occurred another night long ago. Irritated by a slow driver ahead of me, I tailgated the vehicle so closely that I could not even see the license plate. I persisted until the car turned off onto a side road.

But that side road was the very road that I intended to take to visit my parents—and the driver was my mother.

The shame that overcame me in that moment was so great that, to this day, whenever I find myself following a particularly slow driver, I think: “That could be my mother…” This simple thought summons up memories of my mother, nervous and cringing, as other drivers recklessly bullied her on the road. My mother may not be the best driver, but she does not deserve to be harassed.

“That could be my mother” is my driving mantra. With this simple phrase, I can transfer the love, respect and care I hold for my mother onto the driver in front of me. Impatience melts into acceptance. Aggression dissipates into compassion. Just as I would never wish stress and discomfort upon my mother, so I will drive more kindly behind you.

This practice of transferring the target of our compassion from one individual to another has very ancient roots that just about all Buddhists should recognize in the concept of rebirth. In the words of the Dalai Lama, “Buddhist tradition teaches us to view all sentient beings as our dear mothers and to show our gratitude by loving them all. For, according to Buddhist theory, we are born and reborn countless numbers of times, and it is conceivable that each being has been our parent at one time or another.”

Reflection on the parallels between this ancient Buddhist practice and my simple driving mantra led me to a fundamental shift in my perspective on rebirth. While many discussions of rebirth spin on the question of whether or not rebirth is real, they often neglect to consider any of the theory’s practical benefits, regardless of the question of reality. This framework tends to the conclusion that “‘belief in’ rebirth seems to have no purpose.” But if you wish to spread the compassion you have for your mother to a total stranger, you are undoubtedly helped if you believe that person too could be your mother—just as my recitation is more effective if I truly believe that driver ahead of me could actually be my own mother.

The point here is not to weigh in on whether the concept of rebirth is right or wrong, but rather to consider this notion in terms of “skillful or unskillful.” You may still see no point in the belief that you could in fact be my mother. I hope that, even so, you can rest assured that I will never tailgate you.

Sabbe satta niddukkha hontu.

4 Replies to “That could be my mother”

  1. It’s always a blessing to transfer life’s “vehicle” to a greater reward but perhaps life’s opportunity could attain more by not paying any attention to its (reward) material attachment at all. . .

  2. Great post arunlikhati! I’m a little late on reading this post. I was actually thinking about posting something about driving as well a few weeks back.

    These past few months, our whole family has had “bad luck” with driving, whether it’s someone hitting our car or us hitting someone else’s. One thing I’ve noticed is that the darkest side of people often come out when these accidents happen. I remember feeling little sympathy for a motorcyclist that got injured after he hit my car, all because I was much too concerned about whose fault the accident would be and whether my insurance rates would increase. People (including me) so easily push aside compassion and get angry over a small bump in the bumper. Then there’s the whole insurance company process that is so arduous and frustrating, where it’s all about the money and the mentality is you against your enemy. There seems to be no room for seeing the other party as your mother. If you did so and let down your defenses, you may very well be screwed over by the other party.

    I don’t know what it is about car accidents that makes us forget about compassion. Sometimes, even when I realize that I should be compassionate, the entire system (insurance, legal, etc) makes it feel foolish and even detrimental to be compassionate, an “every man for himself” mentality. Maybe it’s our attachment to material things, like cars and money, that pushes us to react to confrontation with claws and fangs rather than as if the other party were our mother. It’s situations like these that sometimes make practices such as compassion seem inapplicable in face of reality and make me wonder why can’t we all just get along. But if there is anything that I’ve learned from these past few months, it is that the compassion you show isn’t really for winning a lawsuit or making sure your insurance rates don’t increase. It’s for yourself, to set your mind at peace with what has happened and let go of any regret or finger-pointing so your mind can really focus on what matters… like driving safely!

  3. Im in an area inundated with aggresive driving. I would like to share/repost your story with the people I’ve discussed with on my “social networking” site. I laughed a little. My mother would have chewed me into pieces after that. I was definately the same sort of agro driver for the longest time. No I just cruise in the slow lane and use this drive time for contemplation. I love going for a drive now. I cant wait until I no longer need to spend my time behind the wheel. The nature of my work though. Many blessings and thank you for sharing.

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