But, if one of the two is mindful enough to perceive that the other may also have had a bad day, he or she will be more attentive, patient, tolerant and considerate. There will likely be fewer problems. This is an example of proper practice: thinking less about oneself and more about others. This is the beginning of compassion.

On one of my retreats, three women shared a room. One complained to me that, if there was one thing she hated, it was snoring, and both of her roommates were snoring their heads off.

I said, "Maybe you snore sometimes, too."

She said, "I would rather die than snore."

If she could accept the idea that she herself was capable of snoring, she would probably have more consideration for those who do snore.

I told her a story: Once I spent a night in the same room with two masters. Both snored, one in a loud, roaring tone and the other in a lower but wheezy tone. It annoyed me. I felt like poking them, but then they might have woken up and been unable to fall asleep again. I decided against that idea. Instead, I imagined that the wheezer was a frog croaking in a marsh and that the other was a tiger roaring in the jungle. On the right a frog, on the left a tiger, right a frog, left a tiger, frog, tiger, frog, tiger . . . and eventually I fell asleep.

I remembered that ancient masters could enter samadhi just by listening to the sound of the wind or flowing water. I thought that if it could be done with wind and water, it could also be done with snoring. Perhaps I wouldn't enter samadhi, but at least I'd fall asleep.

Being considerate of others is as much a form of practice as meditation. Do not only think of yourself; and when you are thinking of yourself, at least do the right thing.

STUDENT:

How do you know what the right thing is?