Right Action is being certain that our every action is in accord with our inner essence. It is consistency of being—as within, so without. It is knowing when to act and when to be still, when to work in the outer realms and when to work in the inner realms.

When we do not practice Right Action, we cause ourselves so much suffering, and we cause great suffering to those around us, as well. When one is not consciously engaged in practicing Right Action, there is a disconnect between what is being thought, said and done. It is so easy today to witness this disconnection coming out of the behaviors of so many, whether they be celebrities or a professional colleague or your next-door neighbor. The following story illustrates this point:

Stephen thought he could “get away” with cruel, ruthless, cheating behaviors toward his devoted wife, Shelly, in order to continue to get what he wanted. But, as I had to keep telling my girlfriend Shelly, “He cannot.” Friends of ours, they had been married for many years. They shared many interests, had similar backgrounds and education. He was a doctor, she a Ph.D. It was a second marriage for both. The first years they appeared connected and happy, and although their lives were frequently focused on appearances, they were the typical affluent American couple, always accumulating more and better stuff, always upgrading.

Then an opportunity came to Stephen to have a surgical practice three to four days a week hundreds of miles from home. He took it and rented an apartment near the hospital, commuting home on weekends. Finally they moved from their primary home out of California, a community property state, to his new location, not a community property state, quite a distance from their former community and network of friends.

Alone every week, Shelly felt very isolated, lonely and disconnected away from her work and supportive women friends. She picked up a consulting job and was working sixty to seventy hours a week to fill her empty time and life. She would frequently call me for support and advice. I would urge her to seek a spiritual connection and community for support where she now lived. She was drawn to Buddhism and no longer found solace in the religion of her childhood. She read a few of the Buddhist books I recommended, but that was as far as her spiritual path went. She did not find a sangha, a spiritual community or anyone nearby to connect with on a soul level.

Stephen began spending more and more days away, and the gulf between them continued to widen. Red flags were flapping in the breeze of Shelly’s life. I could see it. Her other friends could see it. Her siblings could see it. But as is so often the case in such circumstances, Shelly could not.

Then late one night the phone rang. Fearing something was wrong with Stephen, she answered with trepidation. Something was wrong with Stephen, all right, as Shelly soon learned from Richard, the male voice at the other end of the line. Shelly had met Richard on several occasions in large social gatherings, but she did not know him or his wife, Charlotte, well. Richard told Shelly that in recent months he had begun to be suspicious of his wife’s behavior. He had just returned a day early (intentionally) from a conference only to find Stephen in bed with his wife. When he confronted the two of them, he asked Stephen, “Are you going to tell Shelly, or do I have to do it?” Stephen refused, thus the 2 A.M. phone call.

As the story unfolded, the affair had been in full swing before the move out of California. The move was all part of Stephen’s master plan to get them out of a community property state, to isolate Shelly, be away from their new home a week at a time and be free to establish his new life.

Shelly nearly lost her soul’s center and everything else. She was adrift. To all outside appearances, it looked like Stephen was “getting away” with all of his scheming and deceptive ways. Shelly felt betrayed, vulnerable, wounded and lost. Stephen had also been busy moving money around and burying assets. His actions were about as far toward “wrong action” as one could go.

Shelly would call me crying, “He’s getting away with it!”

“No,” I’d calmly reply, “it may appear that way today, but in the great and cosmic justice of life, he cannot get away with such wrong action.” Then we would speak about karma, not from a revengeful view gleefully waiting for him to get his comeuppance, but from a knowing of the law of cause and effect. Our every action, no matter how small, is replete with consequences. Sexual activity that harms another person is never Right Action. It is pregnant with consequences. Through the ages sexual misconduct has created tremendous suffering.

Stephen’s life is rife with consequences. Shelly just needed to be ever mindful that her hurt and anger did not fester into even more negative states that could manifest as more negative karma for her. She had much to examine and heal and forgive, before she could go on. Their divorce was long and further filled with deceptions. We kept speaking of her need to stand firm and not collapse under his raging intimidations and nasty behavior. It was very difficult, but she made it through. Shelly truly endeavored to practice conscious living even through her pain. She strove to be mindful of her actions and not succumb to rage that would mirror Stephen’s behavior. She is now living in California once again. She is practicing and studying Buddhist teachings, she is in the midst of intensive, ongoing counseling, and she is finding her center once again. Her suffering is coming to an end, in large part due to her Right Action. She is becoming happy once again. She is learning to forgive and trust herself.

This slice-of-life true story is an example of how all parties can suffer, how wrong action never brings good results or happiness, how in such troubling circumstances we can remember the noble Eight-fold Path and apply these methods as an antidote for whatever ails us.

A Buddhist view that I think is particularly helpful to one’s spiritual growth is also to have compassion for Stephen, because a person such as he cannot behave so unskillfully unless he is already suffering greatly. Stephen may not immediately be aware that he is suffering, but in the ever constant flow of life he one day will see that such actions cannot bring him satisfaction or happiness. He will see that his unresolved inner conflict has caused him to suffer in the past, is causing him to suffer now and will cause him to suffer in the future. From a most enlightened perspective, compassion for him is called for.

When we obsess on another’s faults and become consumed by them, we cause ourselves to suffer greatly and accomplish nothing. Our angry compulsion is like a toxic brew fermenting in our minds. We know people can do incredibly annoying things and have cruel behavior. Once I allowed a relative of mine to rob me of my peace of mind. He wasn’t suffering (at least he wasn’t aware of his suffering). I was suffering. After much spiritual practice, I finally was able to bless him and have compassion for him, freeing him from me and me from him. It was difficult and incredibly painful.

The law of karma is never suspended. No one ever lives outside its precise measurement. You live and act in accord with the truth of your being, or you pay the consequences. It’s simple. It’s exacting. It’s true. You live life with Right Action, and the law of karma is forever blessing you.

Right Action follows Right View, Right Thought, Right Speech. When these three are faithfully engaged and practiced, Noble Action will naturally follow. How could the living of our lives be anything other than right, correct and true when we use Right View, when our thoughts are spiritually centered, when our speech is kind, accurate, loving and true? The questions have long been asked:

When my husband, David, and I were on a retreat at Thich Nhat Hanh’s monastery, Plum Village, in Dordogne, France, among all our wondrous and deepening experiences was a terrifying one. It was a rainy and cold couple of days in mid-November. One afternoon I was quite sleepy and went to take a nap in our windowless, damp, concrete cell. About an hour later I was awakened abruptly by an American woman who breathlessly said, “There has been an accident, and David . . .” Before she finished my heart stopped and I felt all the blood drain from my head. Time froze.

When my consciousness finally returned to her, she was saying that a Canadian doctor was tending to him and that he would be okay. However, she added that we did need to take him immediately to the nearest clinic in this very rural area.

What had occurred was that David, being his helpful self, had been engaged in the classic Buddhist activity of what one does before enlightenment, chopping wood—literally. He was splitting hard oak logs, not a daily activity for David, an activity in which he had rarely engaged in his life. His impatience was growing, as the wood was not giving way easily to his ax. He had cut the first piece about halfway through when he thought he could move this tedious process along and break the log in two by slamming it into the concrete surface. He gave the log a mighty blow. It didn’t break, but he was encouraged because he heard it crack. So he swung the log hard again, connecting with the concrete. This time, success . . . of sorts.

The log broke in two, but the broken-off piece, jagged end up, bounced off the concrete and headed straight for his head. He said everything went into slow motion. He watched it heading for his left eye, but there was nothing he could do but duck a fraction of an inch. The jagged end missed his eye but smashed into his head just above the eyebrow, leaving a deep gash that bled profusely.

By the time I arrived, the Canadian physician had cleaned the cut, poured some antiseptic on it and applied a compress bandage. But she thought he needed stitches, so off we went to see a kindly French country doctor at his clinic. The doctor decided a special “American” bandage, not stitches, was needed, so that is what he applied, and David was repaired. The event ended well, and we forever had the answer to:

This dramatic tale points out what was intended to be an act of kindness and thoughtfulness also needed a hefty dose of wisdom to truly be Right Action. It certainly could not be called wrong action, because the intention was pure. It is just that impatience (ego) was given an opportunity to rise where wisdom (spirit) was what was called for.

While sitting in a teaching with His Holiness the Dalai Lama, my assigned seat was at a right angle to the Sangha where quite a few monks attentively sat. One monk was obviously responsible for a young tuka (what I lightheartedly call a “baby lama”). These are young boys who have been recognized as the reincarnation of a great lama of the past and are being mindfully trained, instructed and groomed to continue on with their previous life’s mission—a very foreign concept to the Western mind, but a very important and ancient concept in Tibetan Buddhism. It is what occurred with the Dalai Lama at the tender age of two.

So this little boy, perhaps seven years of age, was in the front row across from me. He was more interested in his teacher’s watch than what the Dalai Lama had to say. With his teacher faithfully focused on the leader of Tibetan Buddhism, the child unfastened the watch strap, took it off the monk and put it on himself. Then he reversed the process and returned the watch to the monk’s wrist. He repeated this over and over and over. Once in a while the monk would look down and smile tenderly at the boy.

After perhaps two hours the boy took the watch off the monk and intentionally dropped it on the floor. With that the monk looked over, raised an eyebrow and extended his hand. The boy picked up the watch and placed it in the monk’s hand. The monk refastened the watch on his own wrist and continued to listen to the teaching. The child then sat attentively for the rest of the presentation, quite unlike the behavior of most seven-year-olds.

This infinitely patient, kindly monk was Right Action personified. How many American parents would respond in such a way to a child? I think not many. I believe those living in accord with Right Action definitely walk gently upon the earth. They are mindful not to harm or to cause suffering to any creature.

In Japan on our honeymoon, David and I observed a father and his toddler son in a very similar exchange while sitting across from them on a train. The child, probably not yet two, would playfully put his tiny hand out the open train window and giggle. In turn, the father would patiently take the boy’s hand and tenderly place it back inside the window. Just like the story of the young lama, this occurred repeatedly. The father demonstrated only loving-kindness, tenderness and patience. Again, Right Action in action. These small boys were tenderly loved and were never shamed or unnecessarily scolded.

What a contrast to the American mother I witnessed raging at her six-year-old son who was asking for a strawberry yogurt in a grocery store aisle. Wrong action. When I see such behavior, I always think, twenty years of therapy. This is not to be glib, but it is simply an observation, usually factual, after almost thirty years of ministry. To be infinitely loving and patient with a child is to instruct them in Right Action and to be life-affirming. To instruct them through yelling and harsh words and actions is life- and soul-robbing.

A most meaningful course to follow is to be aware enough of one’s actions that no harm is done to any person or animal or any living thing. To live a conscious life we must be mindful of how our every action from the past and present impacts those around us and the environment. The words of the Dalai Lama come to mind: “When we are able to recognize and forgive ignorant actions of the past, we gain the strength to constructively solve the problems of the present.”

Certainly all of us have acted in the past in ways we later regretted. Rather than living in that regret, we must practice forgiving ourselves for all mistakes and erroneous actions from the past. This process may take months, if not years, until we feel inwardly clear and free from the memories of our past mis-actions.

Through the years I have observed many individuals who have struggled deeply with learning how to apply the spiritual truths they study to the outer living of their lives. To live a life of spiritual balance, our actions must be an out-picturing of our spiritual study. To know truth principles intellectually but not to apply them to the moment-by-moment living of our lives is quite meaningless. As spiritual beings it is important that we embody the truth we know if our lives are to have true meaning, if we are to make a contribution to others.

A most effective way of doing this is to be certain that all our actions are in accord with our inner essence, being sure of that connection. Aware action (Right Action) is consistency of being. One way to express this consistency is to become the “observer of self.” Learn to observe yourself, like you are viewing yourself in a movie, allowing your inner “I” to be silent. You witness your behaviors, views, thoughts, speech and actions. You examine how you speak to others on the telephone, to waitpeople, when you are annoyed with your partner or a child, when you are stressed, when you are running late and cut off in traffic. This is vital in one’s journey of awakening.

Be the witness of your behaviors. Are you pleased with them? Or are you embarrassed or mortified with them? Would you say your actions in difficult situations are aware, are consistent with your inner essence?

If you are happy with your actions, fine. If not, you have work to do. If you have observed the need for improvement, bring forth consistency from within and without. That is the first step. The recognition that you need to work on aligning your actions with the truth of your inner nature is crucially important. Here is where transformation can begin to take place. Here you can begin to live in balance and correct your course of action when needed.

Expressing aware action is enormously freeing. It is truly a divine gift to live with a consistency between our inner consciousness and our outer expression. The more one can cultivate altruism for others, the greater blessings fall into one’s own life.

The opposite of this is a selfish, self-centered view that leads to disturbing results.

To have a happy life, one must move out of self-serving interests and actions and endeavor to be a service to all without judgment or discrimination. Jesus taught that you can know true disciples by their fruits, by their actions. People can live out of a state of extreme self-centeredness, being so self-consumed that their thoughts and actions are always and only focused on self. These self-consumed ones truly have not learned to value others and realize their innate worth is just as precious as one’s own. The Buddhists teach of learning to cherish others, a beautiful teaching. To learn to cherish others takes practice, constant practice. Here is an exercise to help you develop the capacity to cherish others:

In the recent past my husband and I were at a very tense baseball game. It would be a stretch to say that I’m a great fan, but a few times a year on a pleasant night a baseball game can be fun. This particular night we had fantastic seats, and the home team was shining. I had purchased a diet drink that came in an oversized cup. Each time I took a drink I placed the cup in the holder attached to the seat in front of me. I was focused on the game when the woman sitting to my left giggled and pointed at my cup. The man in the seat in front had stretched out his arm and allowed his hand and fingers to dangle over the side right into my cup!

The woman and I laughed. And I wondered, What do I do? Obviously no more of that soft drink would be consumed. A vendor came down the aisle yelling, “Cold beer, who wants a cold drink?” I thought, I do. For a moment I considered tapping that fan on the arm and asking him to buy me a replacement since four of his fingers were still in my cup. But I didn’t do that, and I didn’t say anything, knowing that whatever I said would be embarrassing to the man.

The purpose of life is to practice being a conscious individual, not causing another to suffer in any way. Telling that man his fingers were in my cup could have caused him a moment of suffering. So I didn’t do it. And on that warm, autumn night, life gave me an opportunity to cherish a Cleveland Indians fan.

Our actions are the outer manifestation of the inner workings of our views, thoughts and speech. Right Action is conscious action. It is being so awake that we cease reacting to life and its challenges, and instead we are certain that our responses are conscious.