A Broken Cup Leads To A Thousand Smiles

I went to live in a Buddhist monastery near Rome. It follows a Thai-forest tradition of Theravada Buddhism, which means monks spend much of their days practicing walking-meditation as they wander through thick Italian forests dissected by freshwater streams and the occasional olive grove.

It's not all about meditation. It is, but things get done. If you're washing the dishes, you'll be encouraged not so much to wash the dishes as to be mindful of the fact that you're washing the dishes.

The aim of the practice is to bring awareness into every aspect of your life and find the joy therein. The dishes get done, but a ten-minute job turns into a two hour meditative exercise in deep contemplation.

It was in this vein that we were outside in the morning on all fours sanding down a wooden bridge that led to the grand temple, preparing to layer it with paint. “We” were four members of the lay community – people who are invited to live with the monks in the monastery – and three fully-fledged orange-clad bald Buddhist monks.

The Italian Spring is so inviting you just want to be out all day with the gentle breeze and the budding trees. To be sanding this bridge was beautiful. The monastery itself was miles from any city, and the sound of traffic and bustle was so far removed you'd be forgiven for thinking you were on a different planet. Or a different time. A long-distant time when things were simpler and the air cleaner.

An hour in, another monk comes along with a tray topped with little espresso cups. It may be Thai Buddhism, but coffee waits for nothing in Italy. I picked up the dinky little cup and managed to fumble and drop it. Smashed. Excellent. So I apologised, naturally.

“The cup was already broken” The monk told me.

“No, it wasn’t. I dropped and smashed it.”

“When you come to realise that the cup was always broken, you will have realised the impermanence of everything. By accepting that the cup was always going to break, you accept your own impermanence. And when you come to accept your own impermanence you are free to enjoy the moments that are, without fear of attachment. Everything that comes, goes. Enjoy it when it comes, and be at peace when it goes. If the cup was always broken, the few moments you had when it wasn’t become a gift. And so it goes with all in life.”

I have learnt to see the cup as broken. That’s because it actually is broken. The lesson remains, however. Cherish every moment, and let it go in peace. Cling to it, and you cling to your own inevitable misfortune. 

"Change is never painful, only resistance to change is painful."

Not a day goes by that I do not smile when I see a coffee cup. Those monks might well be onto something…