Once upon a time, a hard-shelled tortoise was foraging for food in the evening along the shore of a lake. And a jackal was also foraging for food in the evening along the shore of the lake. The tortoise saw the jackal from afar, foraging for food, and so—withdrawing its four legs, with its neck as a fifth, into its own shell—it remained perfectly quiet and still. But the jackal also saw the tortoise from afar, foraging for food, and so it went to the tortoise and, on arrival, hovered around it, [thinking,] “As soon as the tortoise stretches out one or another of its four limbs—or its neck as a fifth—I’ll seize it right there, tear it off, and eat it.” But when the tortoise didn’t stretch out any of its four limbs—or its neck as a fifth—the jackal, not having gotten any opportunity, lost interest and left.
In the same way, monks, Mara is continually, ceaselessly, hovering around you, [thinking,] “Perhaps I’ll get an opportunity by means of the eye… the ear… the nose… the tongue… the body. Perhaps I’ll get an opportunity by means of the intellect.” Thus, monks, you should dwell with the doors to your senses well-guarded. (SN 35.199)
This story from the Kumma Sutta helps us with at least two scenarios:
1. When you are in the midst of difficult times, perhaps your loved one has just died or you have received news of a terminal diagnosis, guard yourself. 2. In these times of deepfake videos, social media rumors, and sensory overload, be cautious.
Right now, you might be facing both of these scenarios.
At the heart of the tortoise and jackal story lies a powerful metaphor: the tortoise’s ability to withdraw into its shell when faced with danger or distraction. This act of retreat signifies the importance of shielding yourself from external noise and potential harm by being acutely aware of who and what you allow into your life.
In the scenario where you are working with personal loss, it is so easy to fall prey to people or influences that will not lead to skillful acceptance of what is happening. There will be many people who mean well and believe that they are helping, but be careful. What is their agenda? Is it to make themselves feel better about your loss? Is it to show you the right way to live? And by “right way,” they mean do things their way. Which might not be helpful to you.
I recall receiving so much advice from well-meaning individuals. The most useful support that I received allowed me to just be who I was and helped me with my practice. The least beneficial assistance left me feeling exhausted and overwhelmed. I had to learn when to retreat.
We are all facing sensory overload. Too many news stories, doom-scrolling on social media, texts telling you that if you do not donate by midnight, all will be lost. The distractions feel endless, and negativity can seep into your consciousness with alarming ease; taking a cue from the tortoise becomes an imperative.
An appropriate response, whether you are facing personal loss, sensory overload, or both, is mindful access. Stand back, mentally, physically, and emotionally, and be intentional about who or what has access to you and your senses.
It is perfectly acceptable for you to minimize where you spend your time and who you spend it with. In fact, it is not just acceptable, it is critical to our development on the path to seek out kalyāṇa-mittatā—to spend time with admirable or virtuous friends.
By practicing intentionality in what you see, hear, smell, taste, and think, you can curate your experiences and minimize exposure to negativity. For instance, consider the impact of social media: mindlessly scrolling through feeds filled with conflict and despair can easily lead you away from your peace. Instead, engage with uplifting content, fostering a more serene mental space that aligns with your personal values. Visit websites that cover the Dhamma, listen to podcasts that help you with chanting or meditation, follow peaceful spiritual leaders.
Engaging in sensory restraint is not merely a passive act; it is a proactive strategy for cultivating a positive mental state. By guarding your senses—your eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and intellect—you prevent negative qualities such as greed, anger, and distress from infiltrating your life. This intentional practice allows you to create a buffer against the chaos of the external world, akin to the protective shell of the tortoise.
In practical terms, this might mean limiting exposure to distressing news, opting for fresh air and natural environments over crowded urban settings, or taking time away from screens to focus on mindfulness practices. Each of these choices can help fortify your mental defenses, enabling you to respond to life’s challenges with grace and composure.
Please take note: to retreat like the tortoise, to protect your senses, does not mean to abandon your responsibilities. It does not mean to live in denial. If your loved one has died, to retreat and guard your senses means to create an environment where you can accept your loss and learn to live with your grief. You are seeking to eliminate distractions that will interfere with your ability to make skillful choices.
Practicing sensory restraint can help you to develop equanimity. When you become selective about the information and experiences you allow into your consciousness, you foster a deeper sense of inner peace. This practice not only shields your well-being but also enhances your ability to engage with the world compassionately.
When you live in a society that glorifies busy-ness and overstimulation, the idea of seeking balance may seem counterintuitive. Yet, it is precisely through cultivating this inner balance that you can navigate external turmoil with resilience. Equanimity empowers you to respond thoughtfully rather than react impulsively, promoting healthier relationships and a more harmonious existence. You can support yourself in grief, and you can support yourself through sensory overload.
The parable of the tortoise and jackal is a reminder of the value of protecting yourself from external distractions, fostering mindful consumption, and cultivating inner peace.
By guarding your senses and being intentional about your experiences, you can maintain emotional balance and resilience in the face of life’s challenges. This practice not only benefits your well-being but also creates a positive ripple effect in your collective environment. In doing so, you not only protect yourself but also nourish a world that thrives on connection, understanding, and compassion.
Margaret Meloni is a Theravada Buddhist practitioner, businessperson, and the author of Carpooling with Death: How living with Death will make you Stronger, Wiser and Fearless. One day, while navigating the demands of everyday life; she realized that more significant challenges were coming her way. She began to realize that the people she loved were going to die. Her mother-in-law, Lee, was in her 90s, her parents were approaching their 80s, and her husband, Ed, had already outlived his father. She had already said goodbye to others.
She began to wonder, “How can I handle losing the people I love the most?” The answer to her question came from her reliance on her Buddhist practice. Now that she has made friends with death, her goal is to help all of us to accept death as an essential part of life.
Death Dhamma is published monthly.
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