The Martlet

I remember learning about karma when I was a child.

I understood the cycle of cause-and-effect as being immediate, and I relished the thought that the people who picked on me would get theirs within a few hours. I’m not sure what I thought the punishment would be, but it was always dramatic.

In Grade 5, some boys from a neighbouring school used to wait for me to walk home with a bag full of rocks. They would cycle around me on their bikes throwing the rocks with amazing accuracy and yelling out a slew of racist remarks. My instincts told me to run, but my curiosity always got the better of me. I wanted to see karma taking effect. Perhaps a bolt of lighting would strike them, toasting them on the spot. Or a tree would fall on their heads. Whatever it was, I was sure it was going to be good.

Much to my bitter disappointment, nothing ever happened and, over the years, my belief in karma faded until it was nothing more than a notion buzzing around the back of my brain.

It was years later, as an undergrad at UBC, that karma was brought back into my life. I took a religious studies course and karma was explained in very basic terms. The professor told us a story about when a colleague had gone to India. The colleague had decided to take a taxi and, while the driver zipped around the city like a madman, he became agitated as they narrowly missed hitting a dozen pedestrians. He asked the driver to slow down, telling him that he wasn’t in a hurry and that there was no need to speed. The driver answered him quite simply.

“Don’t worry!” he said. “If they are good people, no harm will come to them. If I hit them and they are hurt, then they must have done something very bad to bring such bad karma.”

In Taiwan, the belief in karma is also very strong. Most interestingly, people attach karma to their names so that choosing a name is vitally important for the success and well-being of a child. It is also quite common for people to change their given names as an adult if life isn’t going the way they want.

One of my students, Nelson, changed his Chinese name and swore that his life dramatically improved. He explained that his parents named him “Big Mountain” and, during the course of his life, he encountered many obstacles. So, he changed it to mean “Mountain Opening” and said that life presented him with fewer obstructions. The class all nodded in agreement with Nelson’s story, and many provided countless other examples of how successes increased all by a simple name change.

You see, every time your name is said, it creates a type of energy that surrounds you. Nelson explained that you want to engulf yourself with positive energy and take control of your destiny by incorporating good karma — not just through deeds, but also through words. A name is not just a name; it can influence or change your fate in life. With that in mind, I went straight home to ponder this with my boyfriend Rob.

“I think we should change our Chinese names,” I told him.

“Why? I’m just getting used to mine.”

Rob’s Chinese name was chosen to sound similar to his English name. Robert became Lo Bo and, because there’s nothing similar to his surname, Carpenter, our tutor gave him Gao as a last name. It means tall — and tall he was in Taiwan. He kept smashing his head on the tops of doorways and had to hunch forward to enter some of the older trains.

“Well, I have trouble saying your name properly so with the wrong tones, lo bo means carrot,” I complained.

“So? Practice your tones. You’ll get it.”

“But,” I persisted, “in the meantime, I’m calling you Tall Carrot. What kind of karma will come out of that?”

I was also thinking of changing my name. Amy became Ai Mei (love, beauty) and my students told me that it wasn’t a good name because it meant I was conceited: I love beauty.

“Okay,” Rob smirked. “I’ll change my name to Great One. You will have to start calling me the Great One.”

“What? I don’t think you’re great. That’s not an appropriate name,” I said, very much annoyed.

“Ahhhhh… but you will if you keep saying it!” he said.

And with that, Rob went to bed leaving me awake for hours, feeling perturbed.

Wasn’t it Joseph Goebbels who wrote that if you tell a lie big enough and keep repeating it, people will eventually believe it? Does this somehow mix in with the karmic air that surrounds us? If Rob was to change his name to Great One, is that telling a big lie or is it putting out positive karma? I decided to embrace positivity.

“Okay Rob, change your name to Great One,” I told him the next day.

“You know what’s the best thing about being the Great One? You have to do everything I say,” Rob said, triumphantly.

“How does that work?” I asked, flabbergasted.

“It just does. Did Alexander the Great have people arguing with him? Or Genghis Khan? Or Peter the Great?” Rob asked.

“I don’t think it works that way, Rob,” I argued, “You’re not...”

“Ah, ah, ah! It’s not Rob — it’s Great One.”

“But… but…” I stammered.

“Sorry, Love Beauty. That’s just the way it is.”

Okay, so I created a monster. Maybe karma only works if you truly understand it. Still, why take chances in life? If Rob wanted to be Great One, who am I to stand in his karmic way? I came home that night with dinner and a new outlook.

“Hi Great One. How was your day?” I asked over our chicken fried rice.

“Great! This karma thing might be working already.”

“I’m glad. By the way, I have a new Chinese name,” I told him.

“What is it?”

“Da shi,” I said simply.

“What does that mean?” he asked.

“Big Master,” I said. “So, now, you have to listen to me. You may be great, but I am the master.”

Rob looked at me.

That’s karma for you.