TEACHING · MAY 2024
What I Got Wrong About Karma
Like most people who grew up around the word without studying where it came from, I absorbed karma as a kind of cosmic bookkeeping — good deeds banked somewhere, bad deeds eventually collected on, the universe running a ledger with your name on it. It’s the version that shows up in casual conversation, the “well, that’s karma” said about someone else’s bad week. I didn’t examine it. I just carried it in, the way you carry in a lot of things nobody hands you directly.
It showed up in my own early practice more than I noticed at the time. I remember a genuinely transactional feeling after a good stretch of consistent sitting — a quiet expectation that I’d earned a calmer week for it, and real, specific frustration when a bad mood showed up anyway, as if the universe had welched on a deal I didn’t remember agreeing to. I was treating meditation like a deposit, not a practice.
What actually shifted it was reading — Bhikkhu Bodhi’s anthology of the Buddha’s early teachings did more to correct me here than anything else on the shelf — and finding that karma, in its original sense, is just intentional action and its consequence, specifically as it shapes the mind that keeps performing it. Not an external ledger. A description of what repetition does to you, from the inside.
Karma isn’t a ledger someone else keeps. It’s just what repetition does to a mind.
I started noticing it in smaller, more mundane places after that. Snapping at someone in traffic gets easier to do the more times you’ve already snapped that week — not because a cosmic tally has decided you’re due for another lapse, but because that’s what practiced impatience actually does, grooves deepening with use. Patience works the same way, in the other direction, which is the useful part.
I still catch the old bookkeeping instinct sometimes, usually when I want an explanation for why something unfair happened to someone. But I try to treat each choice now as practice for the next one rather than a coin dropped in a jar — closer, as the Learn page puts it, to habit-forming than to justice.