Brian Lesage on “Taking Out the Thorn”

A reflection on practice by Brian Lesage

The Buddha lived in a deeply troubled world. Kings ruled through violence, armies decimated villages, and slavery threaded daily life. Even those close to the Buddha suffered: his supporter Bimbisara was imprisoned by his own son & starved in his cell; his clan was nearly wiped out by King Viddhudabha; his cousin Devadatta tried to kill him. In this context, the Path took shape: a clear, compassionate way to meet a world on fire without adding more flame.

In the early texts the Buddha speaks of samsara as beginningless: a beginningless wandering, where the tears shed from separation & loss exceed the water in the four great oceans. Anyone attuned to today’s tragedies recognizes the tide. He names that tide, then shows how not to be swept away.

Samsara is often taken to mean the world itself. More precisely, it points to patterns of heart & mind: the habits of greed, aversion, and confusion that recreate suffering. The cycle isn’t only outer; it begins with inner patterns that shape speech & action.

One early discourse pictures the Buddha-to-be witnessing violence & shaking with fear: “creatures flopping around, like fish in water too shallow, so hostile to one another!” He longs for a place unscarred by conflict & cannot find it. Then he notices a thorn lodged deep in the heart, the hidden point that drives us to run in all directions & perpetuate harm. “If that thorn is taken out, one stops running & settles.”

It is a radical response. Instead of fastening on enemies or quick remedies, he turns toward the engine of violence itself.

That thorn has familiar names: greed, hatred, and delusion, and it does not come out with a single tug; it is layered & habitual, resurfacing in thought, speech, and action. The Buddha’s image of the bamboo acrobats, each caring for their own poise so they can truly care for the other, is fitting & precise. Mindfulness is that balance. Guarding one’s steadiness also protects others.

This is not passivity. It is the groundwork for wise action. We pause, feel the tremor of fear or heat of hatred, and soften around it. The emotion may not vanish, but space opens; in it, listening, patience, and clarity return. From that steadiness, engagement becomes medicine rather than contagion.

The civil rights leader Rev. James Lawson modeled this union of action & inner freedom. He trained protesters to endure abuse without retaliating, testing whether nonviolence had reached bone & breath. Those who lost balance weren’t sent into the hottest fires. “We started the public desegregation of the nation, and we did it without hating anybody,” he said. That is what a real revolution sounds like.

When the world’s troubles feel endless, the Dharma offers something essential: a way to stop spinning the wheel. Take out the thorn. Act, yes, but from a heart that knows its currents & trusts the possibility of a freer response. In doing so, we help this troubled world through true, steady, wise compassion.