How do the Buddhist teachings of the Noble Eightfold Path lead to
the cessation of suffering?
Eugene Brevdo
How do the Buddhist teachings of the Noble Eightfold Path lead to
the cessation of suffering? Why is this question important? Why is
its answer relevant for all of us? Do we not all ask, at one time
or another, "Who am I? Why am I?" and, later, forget
the question and our intense need to answer it? Why? Maybe we believe
that the answer is either easily apparent or unattainable. Readers
who are new to Buddhism may consider an especially powerful conjecture,
that answering one of these questions provides an answer to the other.
As with any philosophical question, answers are best developed through
a multi-stage process of clarification, explanation, answer, analysis,
and restatement of the question. In effect, this essay is structured
in such a format. Repeating the process several times, each time from
a new perspective, has provided me with multiple contexts from which
to explore and sometimes, after some critical consideration, accept
the wisdom and teachings of Buddhism. It is my hope that this essay
can bring to you, the reader, a richer life experience.
Buddhism teaches that there are four basic truths which you must discover
for yourself if you want to cultivate complete freedom of heart
and mind from the compulsions of craving [HBT, p. 5]. In order
to fully appreciate the merit of the above statement, we must define
it in proper context. At the same time, we can build up an idea of
the purpose of this paper. First off, what are these four basic truths?
In Buddhism, they are labeled the Four Noble Truths; they are the
foundation for Buddhist practice, and are centered around developing
both psychological and physical health; although at times this may
not be apparent to the casual reader. Here they are listed in the
order of decreasing ``agreeability'': [HBT, p. 46]
-
Well-Being, also known as the ``cessation of suffering''
- Noble Eightfold Path That Leads to Well-Being
- Suffering
- Ignoble Eightfold Path That Leads to the Arising of Suffering
In studying this Ignoble path, by asking the question: "How
do the Buddhist teachings of the noble eightfold path lead to the
cessation of suffering?" and looking at the eight root causes
of suffering, we can change all of the steps of the Ignoble path into
the first steps on the Noble Eightfold Path.
Before delving too deep into the Four Noble Truths and the Noble Eightfold
Path, another question comes up. If these Truths are widely known,
and we can read them plainly here, what does the phrase discover
them [these four basic truths] for yourself mean?
In fact, the phrase has a double meaning. A conflict exists between
what we want to be the truth and the real truth: we cannot rely on
a non-changing world. The world changes, and we change, at every moment.
Things go wrong and we know that they can go wrong, and there is little
that we can do about it. Eventually, we all grow sick and will eventually
die. We grow up feeling alone; and an integral part of our maturation
process is the act of building up a permanent self that we can cling
to, a central core which does not change, is reliable, and untouchable.
Mark Epstein, in his book, Thoughts Without a Thinker,
notes that as individuals in today's modern world, our main problem
is a feeling of not knowing who we are. We build up and look to a
false image of ourselves for answers; a process that has been labeled
narcissism by many psychoanalysts.
... it is our fear at experiencing ourselves directly which
causes suffering. [TWT, p. 17]
In fact, looking deeply inside ourselves is a painful process. Earlier
today I decided that I would do just that to work out a small problem
that has been bothering me for months. Simply put, I snack too much.
When I'm on campus, for example, the problem exhibits itself when
I get up after a meal for a sweet once too often. This weekend, on
the other hand, I was visiting my sister in Boston and when we stopped
at a grocery store I loaded up on snacks to bring back to campus with
me. Now I am sitting in my room typing away, but my mind is really
going back to the question ``Will all that food last till the end
of the week?'' A seemingly small, unimportant question, but it bothers
me. John Koller, in Asian Philosophies, writes:
How much time is spent in distraction or oblivion? When we are
gripped by a worry, for example, what do we do? We might struggle
to shake it off. Or we try to convince ourselves that things are not
the way they seem, failing which we seek to preoccupy ourselves with
something else. How often do we embrace that worry, accept our situation,
and try to understand it? [AP, p. 7]
To answer Professor Koller's question, ``not very often.'' The
fact that I have been getting annoyed at myself for the past six months
can attest to that. We all have similar little quirks. Today, as I
was pulling those snacks off my shelf I saw what I was doing and decided
that I should take a step back and look at why I have been listening
to my habit energies rather than my own good sense.
Habit energies are repetitive loops that we fall into over the course
of our lifetimes. They include modes of thought such as depression,
anxiety triggered by certain types of places or people; they also
include useless and unproductive tasks that we find ourselves repeating
over and over, such as procrastinating instead of studying or vegetating
on a couch and watching TV all day. Habit energies are the aforementioned
compulsions of craving; they are the results of deeper needs
that have not or can not be met. In general, we receive our habit
energies from our ancestors, our friends, and the situations we live
through (be they good or bad situations). An unawakened existence,
in which we drift unaware on a surge of habitual impulses, is both
ignoble and undignified [BWB, p. 6]. My own ruminations led
me down a path of my personal history that I do not like to think
about ... ``ignoble and undignified'' (and extremely private)
as certain events in my life have been. I was left feeling a bit raw
and anxious but, suffice it to say, I did not follow my habitual impulses
that time.
Most of us do not follow the Buddhist path of self inquiry and self
awareness. Instead, we have a rough idea of what the Arising and the
Cessation of Suffering are. In most cases, the idea itself is false
because we attach our pains and grievances to our non-changing and
separate self in the hope that this persona will be able to handle
our pain in one of two ways. The first type of self-persona we create
is one that can overcome pain through sheer willpower; for example,
by saying ``I am better than this, my problems will not affect
me.'' The second type is created by hardening our persona until it
is numbed to the emotions of pain, humiliation, and anger. As an extreme
example, children who are abused are likely to develop this type of
self image as protection against the lack of a stable and loving home
environment.
Unfortunately, in letting a fake image of ourselves cope with our
problems, we end up deluding ourselves more and more until, as adolescents
and adults, our actions are akin to the gut reactions of an animal
with a wound. Even if we try to deal with our problems, our outlook
on life is so skewed from all the lies that our solutions do not solve
the real internal conflicts. We try to, and even fail to, deal with
just the symptoms to deeper problems. Thich Nhat Hanh, in Heart
of the Buddha's Thinking, writes:
If we love our mother deeply, but feel tense every time we think
of our father, it is natural that when we see a young lady who looks
like our mother, we will appreciate her, and when we see a man who
evokes the memory of our father, we will feel uncomfortable. In this
way, we can "see" the seeds that are in us ... When
we become aware of the seeds in our storehouse, we will not be surprised
by our own behavior or the behavior of others. [HBT, p. 52]
Siddhartha Gautama, the original Buddha, taught that in learning from
the Four Noble Truths, we will come to see that believing in a separate
psychological self is ``ignorance,'' that ``In truth, there
is no existence that is either permanent or separate. All existence
is of the nature of independent arising.'' [HBT, p. 156]
Herein lies the second core idea behind that phrase, discover
them for yourself. While facing your own inner turmoil is extremely
hard, the Buddhist methods of meditation and awareness provide a healthy
set of steps for doing this. In following the steps, we gradually
develop the ability to dig at our personal failings and pains. We
find good ways to overcome our habitual energies. When we face our
problems, we face the true problems, not just the symptoms. We see
that dealing with our problems is not impossible to the point that
we must somehow shield ourselves with falsehoods; we have tools that
enable us to not ignore our problems.
The purpose of life is to be happy. As a Buddhist I have found
that one's own mental attitude is the most influential factor in working
toward that goal. [TWT, Foreword by the Dalai Lama]
Plainly speaking, happiness comes from simply working towards being
happy. That is not to say that we should ignore our suffering. On
the contrary, by thinking deeply about the imbalances and grievances
in our lives with the intent of transforming them into understanding
and joy, we will be able to do just that. Combined with the ability
to decide against the sway of habitual energies, happiness results
in ``complete freedom of heart and mind from the compulsions
of craving.''
The Noble Eightfold Path can be viewed as both the beginning and the
culmination of internal reflection and self-improvement. If viewed
as the first of the Four Truths, the Path provides an excellent moral
outlook and an example of a well structured lifestyle for one to follow...
promoting both good physical health and mental introspection. Following
the Path leads to a deeper understanding of the self and gradually
to the deeper understanding of craving, grasping, and ignorance of
self. If viewed as the last of the Truths, the Path is simply an expression
of self-evident truths that derive from a healthy outlook on life:
once you understand the true nature of suffering, the causes of suffering,
and the possibility of ending suffering, you will learn to live your
life in a similar fashion to what the Path teaches.
Religious Buddhism, while it follows the same core precepts as the
fundamental practice, incorporates certain other values to the practice
which are not so helpful. While the ideas of reincarnation and of
collecting karma both answer certain metaphysical questions that the
core practice does not, these beliefs were not ``endorsed'' by
the original Buddha. Added to the fact that modern cultures seem to
be developing to the point of either discarding religious thought
or turning to extreme fundamentalism (in such a way that personal
introspection is not endorsed), many people have a hard time grasping
that Buddhism may be learned as both a positive cultural experience
and a state of mind rather than an outdated belief structure set in
stone.
The force of the term ``agnosticism'' has been lost. It
has come to mean: not to hold an opinion about the question of life
and death; to say ``I don't know'' when you really mean ``I
don't want to know.'' [BWB, p. 17]
Here, Stephen Batchelor writes about some of the issues that face
adoption of Buddhism, especially in Western societies.
In today's world people are too busy, too depressed, and too incredulous
to see Buddhism not as an inherent set of truths, but rather as a
toolset from which you can choose the right tool for any situation.
People would rather sit in front of a computer, another tool (though
not quite as useful!), rather than meditate for a few minutes every
day. This is precisely why the general perception of Buddhism must
change to more accurately reflect the process of deep questioning
and boundless optimism which is inherent in Buddhist practice.
To practice Buddhism is to practice introspective Agnosticism. Siddhartha
Guatama understood from the moment of his awakening that searching
for deep metaphysical answers about topics which we label as external
to ourselves is a waste of time. Concepts such as deities, and reincarnation,
have no true meaning to us because we cannot view them in their true
form: to inquire about them is to inquire about our perceptions of
them, and in the end our religious wants and hopes will falsify any
real truth we might gleam about such topics: our thoughts will always
result in false beliefs. Rather, it is important to contemplate the
relationship between our mind and body, between the objects we conceptualize
and our experiences. These links are more important than metaphysical
questions, and provide accessible answers to questions we did not
know we had. In my five minutes of ``meditation,'' I rediscovered
more about my goals and my fears than I had given any consideration
in a long time. More specifically, I discovered that my fears drive
my goals: I don't want to eat too much junk food because I want to
be physically fit; I must be physically fit if I want to make a good
impression on others; I want to make a good impression on others because
I fear being remembered as ``just another face in the crowd,''
rather I am afraid of people talking behind my back or failing to
see me as a relevant in their lives. A continual stream of questions
helped me to probe further and further back in my own history. Each
time my habits start getting the better of me I must once more delve
into those questions.
One very specific idea in Buddhism is that if you are teaching or
explaining a concept, for your teaching to be truly relevant it must
be relevant to the audience and the culture to which it is explained.
Both Batchelor and Epstein take great grievances in their writing
to fit a modern audience... the immediate relevance is apparent in
their writing when their examples hit ``close to home,'' and provide
powerful bases for acknowledging Buddhism as a viable life philosophy.
Batchelor provides a good solid foundation for the philosophy aspect
of Buddhism as opposed to the religious aspect, for two reasons. First,
Buddhism was originally a concept that a single man awoke to: it has
no metaphysical implications and ignores extraneous metaphysical thought.
Second, for the practice to be helpful to any significant amount of
people, it must generally be viewed not as a type of fringe or cult
meditation but rather as a way of living which is so profound and
universal that it holds relevance in today's world. The Four Noble
Truths are a diagnosis and a prescription for our ailments: they are
a straight-forward remedy; people need to come to realize this if
they are to take the teachings seriously.
Epstein takes a different approach to explaining our mental state
and the possibility of awakening. His audience is a professional group
of psychologists who have seen the various theories of thought over
the years; they are best equipped to see the relevance of the Eightfold
Path in their own works. As a result, Epstein starts by explaining
some of the background to his work: some of the patients he has had,
their experiences, and how the core teachings of the Buddha were either
relevant or even helpful for those patients. In the process of explaining
some of the painful experiences which his patients went through, and
which many of us have gone through, he uncovers the ignoble eightfold
path and the central symptom of our suffering, namely
... what we want to be real, our selves,
is constructed out of a reaction against just what we do not want
to acknowledge.[TWT, p. 19]
How many times have we forgotten all of the humiliating things that
have been done to us, all of the humiliating things we have done to
others? Each time this happens we add to the 'immortal' persona we
have in our minds and continue on as if nothing had happened, if only
a sadder version of our previous selves. This symptom is a result
of following the ignoble eightfold path. ...we can say that
there is an ignoble eightfold path that leads to suffering, a ``path
of eight wrong practices'' -- wrong view, wrong thinking, wrong speech,
wrong action, wrong livelihood, wrong diligence, wrong mindfulness,
and wrong concentration."[HBT, p. 46] Each of these
wrong practices concerns an important aspect of our daily lives, and
each concerns the other seven. Together they contribute to a closed
mind and an unhappy existence. The Buddha taught that the Path itself
is inherently important; transformation from the ignoble eightfold
path requires inquiry into it. The result of deep inquiry, in combination
with the understanding that much of life is craving and suffering,
is the Noble Eightfold Path. I hope to methodically explain each of
the wrong practices and, later, to provide some practical tools
for transforming them into the introspective Right practices of the
Noble Eightfold Path. I also hope to provide a general outline for
these Right practices and for their immediate and long-term psychological
benefits.
Before enumerating the wrong practices, it is important to note the
great similarity between the nature of the path and the Wheel of Life.
Another name for the Wheel of Life is the Wheel of Becoming or the
twelve-fold conditions for the arising of duhkha, the arising
of internal conflict and suffering. At the core of the Wheel are grasping,
aversion, and ignorance. The spokes of the wheel are the six realms
of existence, and the rim is composed of the twelve-fold conditions.
The best way to present the six realms of existence to someone who
is not a follower of Buddhism is by asking them to consider six possible
extreme lifestyles. We have all either known or heard about people
living in such realms of existence. Some people have bipolar disorder.
They live part of their lives in the realm of Deities and another
part in the Hell realm. Part of the time they spend ``absorbed
in {their} own happiness'' and the other they spend experiencing
``intense suffering of every conceivable kind.'' Children
in abusive homes live in the Animal realm. ``They
are the victims of power and violence, helpless until liberated by
knowledge and understanding.''[AP, p. 173]
Coincidentally, the six realms of existence have been personified
in many psychological cases. I will provide such examples as they
come up in the various practices of the Path. Most important is the
fact that, much like the ignoble path may be transformed into the
Noble Eightfold Path and enlightenment, ``Inherent in the
Wheel of Life image, the causes of suffering are also the means of
release.'' [TWT, p. 16] In other words, our outlook on life
defines whether the Wheel of Life is a wheel showing the various types
of duhkha or a wheel showing the various ways in which we can be free
of duhkha. If ignorance is replaced by the understanding that there
is no permanent self, the wheel is transformed. This reversal is also
true with respect to the Noble Eightfold Path: the admission that
there is no separate and permanent self leads to the transformation
of the ignoble eightfold path.
Wrong view is closely linked with our perceptions as well as with
our ignorance. One symptom of wrong view is the act of misjudging
physical phenomena. A common example given in some Buddhist writings
is accidentally mistaking a garden hose for a snake; an experience
that can leave us quite frightened. Implicitly trusting our perceptions
on first glance is a tell-tale sign of wrong view. Thich Nhat Hanh
writes, ``... our perceptions are made of our afflictions
-- craving, anger, ignorance, wrong views, and prejudice. Whether
we are happy or we suffer depends largely on our perceptions. It is
important to look deeply at our perceptions and know their source.''
[HBT, p. 54] This statement must not only be applied to physical
phenomena, but also to mental phenomena; for example, one of the most
common sources of problems in relationships is miscommunication.
It seems like a natural human process to "adapt,"
i.e. just not notice things that occur over and over, including our
spouse regularly doing considerate things for us. We have to remind
ourselves to express our appreciation; after several years, there
is no strong drive compelling us to show our love.[PSYCH-SH]
Our perceptions help us decide our actions. Wrong views lead to bad
decisions.
How often do we find ourselves doing one thing and thinking about
something else? I was unceremoniously jarred out of my reverie the
other morning when my head came up and hit an open cabinet door. Several
months ago I would have slammed the door in anger, while nursing my
poor head; instead, because it wasn't really all that serious, and
I wasn't bleeding, I thanked the cabinet and closed the door carefully.
``What kind of wrong thinking is that?'' you may snicker to yourself.
In fact, daydreaming is a constant source of wrong thinking;
it takes us away from experiencing our lives right now.
Instead, as one of my professors has said on occasion, ``Life is
what happens to you when you're making plans.'' He was making a point
about the choices that students have in terms of post-graduate education
so, of course, in context he made a perfectly good point. My example
refers to the kinds of delusions of grandeur and the self-righteous
anger that we all have from time to time; the plans that we act out
again and again in our minds but which are simply too unrealistic
to come to fruition. These contribute to wrong thinking.
Not paying attention to what we are doing is wrong thinking. I have
read whole text books to myself, at the end of which all I have to
show for it is a bookmark on the last page of the book. Many introductory
psychology classes teach that physical connections are made in our
brain only if we are truly paying careful attention to what we are
learning. Without those physical connections, short-term memory never
gets transferred into long-term memory.
Our mind is often thinking about one thing while our body is
doing another. Mind and body are not unified. Conscious breathing
is an important link. [HBT, p. 59]
Our brains are adept at doing many things at once, usually that includes
breathing, regulating our body temperature, other low level functions,
our subconscious thoughts, and the one thing that we
are concentrating on at the moment. Much of the time we aren't concentrating
on anything, or we are trying to concentrate on two things at once.
In such cases, the quality of our understanding suffers, the quality
of our work suffers, and eventually we suffer. That cabinet door woke
me up from wrong thinking, and I was thankful. On a separate note,
conscious breathing is an important aspect of both Right Thinking
and Right Mindfulness; I will cover that topic in more detail a bit
later.
Wrong Mindfulness is best described as a lack of Right Mindfulness.
Not only is Right Mindfulness ``... at the heart of the Buddha's
teachings,'' [HBT, p. 64] it is also the key to unlocking
the practice of Buddhism among college students, 20- and 30- somethings,
and many others who are willing to read a short introductory text.
For now, suffice it to say that Wrong Mindfulness is closely linked
with Wrong Thinking in some ways; for example,
``Our attention may be 'appropriate' ... or inappropriate,
as when we are attentive to something that takes us away from being
here and now. ...
The practice is to find ways to sustain appropriate attention
throughout the day. [HBT, p. 64]
Simply put, Wrong Mindfulness involves either ignorance of the existence
of Right Mindfulness, a lack of post-it notes, or any other means
of reminding ourselves.
Wrong speech and wrong actions are both conditions which accompany
either ignorance or wrong thinking, or both. Lies, half-truths, and
the ignorance of how to express oneself are all in the same group
as wrong speech. An indirect example of wrong speech comes from one
of Epstein's patients, Dorothy; the problem itself was an expression
of deeper ailments in the form of a dream,
``I was with somebody's parents. they didn't like me much.
I was trying to say something but I couldn't. I just couldn't articulate
it, I couldn't find the right words. I opened my mouth but the words
wouldn't come. I got more and more frustrated. I just wanted to cry
or scream, but I couldn't and turned and left.''
The false self is often symbolized in such a manner, as an inability
to express what one really means. Dorothy's main task in her childhood,
as she remembered it, had been to never show any emotion... [TWT, p. 66]
Here Epstein explains that in the process of building ``the
perfect unemotional automaton,'' [TWT, p. 67] while growing
up, Dorothy cut off her own ability to truly communicate. Ignorance
of the lack of a separate, unemotional self to which Dorothy subconsciously
attributed her problems led to the inability to communicate. In past
relationships I have had times in which I simply did not know what
to say, in some cases to the point of avoiding my significant other.
Looking back on it now, I know that I need to take some time to think
through the reasons for my actions and the deeper causes leading to
them. As it turns out, the affliction of wrong speech includes the
refusal to speak when such action is warranted.
Causes of Wrong Action are similar in nature to causes of Wrong Speech.
In some cases, actions do speak louder than words. Once again, ignorance
and wrong thinking attribute a great deal. Ray Bradbury, in his poignant
book Fahrenheit 451, depicts a sordid future in which the
exponential rise in population leads to a society in which people
are kept ignorant and books are illegal; the foresight inherent in
his book still holds valid today and has in part been confirmed in
today's society. The story has qualities that make it worth reading;
if only to see how ignorance today can lead to wrong action for those
who come after us. One especially powerful passage reads,
``Picture it. Nineteenth-century man with his horses, dogs,
carts, slow motion. Then, in the twentieth century, speed up your
camera. Books cut shorter. Condensations, Digests. Tabloids. Everything
boils down to the gag, the snap ending."
``Classics cut to fit fifteen-minute radio shows, then cut
again to fill a two-minute book column, winding up at last as a ten-
or twelve-line dictionary resume....''
"Speed up the film, Montag, quick. Click? Pic? Look,
Eye, Now, Flick, Here, There, Swift, Pace, Up, Down, In, Out, Why,
How, Who, What, Where, Eh? Uh! Bang! Smack! Wallop, Bing, Bong, Boom!
Digest-digests, digest-digest-digests. Politics? One column, two sentences,
a headline! Then, in mid-air, all vanishes! Whirl man's mind around
about so fast under the pumping hands of publishers, secondexploiters,
broadcasters, that the centrifuge flings off all unnecessary, time-wasting
thought!''1
One training associated with Right Action is the fifth mindfulness
training: mindful eating, drinking, and consuming. Bradbury saw that
if we do not consume those things which are important to us, mindfully,
our civilization will have to collectively face the consequences.
His work reflects his meditations and makes us aware of the possibility
of wrong action.
We all must provide for ourselves and our families. Our ability to
excel at our work and our enjoyment of our work are both very important.
Wrong diligence and wrong livelihood are related in many respects.
Jobs and projects that are contradictory to our morals can cause us
a great deal of discomfort. Others might simply be boring but important.
Blaming lack of interest as the reason behind our inability to engage
in an important task is no excuse; just think about what would happen
if you had never cleaned your room when your mother told you to, or
if you never studied for your math class. Forces outside of our control
can lead to wrong livelihood. When you have a family to feed, it is
important to keep a steady source of income. A bad job might simply
be something we have to put up with for a while; but not forever.
On the other hand, wrong diligence is mainly caused by our own inability
or unwillingness to set goals, or our inability to follow through
on them. In general, we should take some time to meditate on the reasons
why we avoid expending energy on certain tasks; in studying the problem,
a solution will present itself.
Wrong concentration is also very relevant when discussing wrong diligence.
Essentially, what constitutes wrong concentration is our inability
to sustain a steady, unwavering thread of conscious thought centralized
around one task or subject for very long. Some of the first teachings
of mindful meditation reveal this simple truth. Various reasons abound
for this affliction; some of them are social and some are personal.
In the modern world, everyone is in a rush ... we all travel from
point A to point B, all the while thinking about point C. Keeping
the central task in focus becomes harder as we are inundated with
more and more commitments. Like hungry ghosts, we keep taking on more
than we can deal with; the result is our inability to swallow. This
common practice is akin to taking more books out of the library than
you are really going to read. As you scan through the first page of
the first book, you're already thinking about the next book. In the
end, you return all of the books unread.
To look back on even a small fraction of the pain in our lives can
be overpowering. Our problems build up every day, and many are never
resolved... many of our negative feelings are simply pushed down to
the lower parts of our consciousness, where they will take root as
anger and frustration. Even in reading a general survey of Buddhist
philosophy, it is impossible to not pick all of these commentaries
on wrong thinking and link them to our own lives to the point of obsession.
When I read about Right Action and about the things we consume, I
think to myself, ``Hey, I'm pretty hot stuff, looks like I got
this one down pat. I feel sorry for the poor joe who doesn't see this
as truth in the first place.'' Looking at another passage, I might
berate myself for not speaking out against the mistreatment of a fellow
cabin mate when I was ten years old and in summer camp. However, it
is very important to note that all of our pain is, not only subjective
(and not in a bad way, but I will get to this later), but also transient
by nature. Emotions are ``empty in their own right,'' they are
dynamic: they do not last forever. On a deeper level they can be considered
as an extension of true selflessness; something that I plan to discuss
later. No matter what our emotions are, the Buddha was a great optimist
- he saw that the two polar extremes (elation and self-deprecation)
are not the only way to experience life. This idea of a middle path
warrants more discussion.
The Buddha was unique [among thinkers] in seeing a middle
way that would solve the problem of suffering and death without postulating
any absolutes.[AP, p. 138]
To start with, I reassert that the Buddha provided just his own answers
to the same questions we ask today; questions about life, happiness,
relationships, about making decisions, and evaluating them in hindsight.
However, he did not assert that his teachings came from anyone other
than himself; and yet many students of Buddhism have, over countless
generations, found his teachings to be credible and even enlightening.
Batchelor writes, ``Guatama encouraged a life that steered
a middle course between indulgence and mortification.'' [BWB, p. 15]
Let us, for example, take this statement at face value. Now our question
becomes, ``Why?'' Just why is this middle course, also known as
the Middle Way, a proper way to live our lives? Many philosophers
have argued much to the contrary; Epicurus is one such, he taught
Hedonism as an 'ethical principle'[WN, "Hedonism"]. What is
so wrong with only cultivating ``good friends, good books, pleasure
in learning and in foods'', can we not live our lives in happiness
this way?
We all know, but do not wish to know, of our impending death ... we
all dread its coming. We have an equally queasy feeling thinking about
our loved ones' impending doom. A Buddhist monk once said, ``This
self that you take to be so real, ..., is already broken.''[TWT, p.81]
Our folly is our disbelief. Consider a glass sitting precipitously
on the edge of a table. Much like the pre-cognition we have about
the glass's impermanence, our understanding of craving leads us to
similar conclusions about the self. I am describing the Buddha's Third
Noble Truth. Before I clarify the interdependence of craving and our
impermanence, I must make a short segueway into areas of our thinking
which are more apparent to us.
All throughout our lives we feel a lack of self, a sense of unattainable
happiness just around the corner. In some way we feel hollow, as if
in finding what we need through external satisfactions such as ``food,
comfort, sex, or success,'' we will be complete and free of duhkha.
Eventually we learn that only through wisdom and compassion, can we
``evoke states of being in which self-consciousness is [...]
relinquished.''[TWT, p.82] In such a way we come to realize
that our internal cravings for food, comfort, sex, and success are
intertwined with our ``sense of unattainable happiness'' which,
in its own right, leads to this grasping for a permanent self. Note,
however, that neglecting or suppressing these wishes is, much as the
Middle Way teaches, similarly negligent. ``Ignoring the Animal
Realm only seems to empower it,'' writes Epstein; for in this example,
we would be wise to remember that our sexual feelings and needs are
not an ``it,'' they are not a separate part of us. The same goes
for hunger and gluttony. Immediate gratification is not healthy, but
neither is mortification.
Flipping back to the other end of the spectrum again, what about our
volatile emotions: anger, pain, even jealousy? These emotions pose
a very serious question; once again, one of two extremes. These emotions
are violent and expressing them does not often end well. Is it better
to try to not think about them? Once again, the Buddha chose a middle
ground on all emotions, including these. ``Recognizing the
need to be free from aggressive emotions [means] recognizing that
such freedom comes through non-judgemental awareness of those emotions''[TWT, p.24]
Epstein hints at the practice of bare attention, an accessible practice
to even new Buddhist practitioners. Similarly, Thich Nhat Hanh writes
``... to embrace hatred does not mean to indulge it. To embrace
hatred is to accept it for what it is: a disruptive but transient
state of mind.''[BWB, p.60] One suggestion that Thich Nhat
Hanh gives is to write a letter if you are angry. If your anger is
pointed at someone, the letter will dampen your immediate anger. Embracing
such emotion may be overly hard while it is still fresh in your mind,
but putting it down on paper provides enough catharsis to let go of
the immediate sense of being wronged, and at the same time gives us
enough energy to then hold onto the emotion. The letter is used as
a tool, and we should see it as such; in general, angry letters are
not actually sent to the intended recipient.
Another way to see the Third Noble Truth is as an assertion of the
following statement: ``it is possible to, via meditation,
'uncover the unconscious wishful conceptions of self, the fundamental
cravings, and to expose them as fantasy,
thereby dispelling ignorance and revealing
the imagined nature of self.''[TWT, p.88] Meditation is a
very powerful tool when used in conjunction with an understanding
of the first three Noble Truths. The Buddha articulated long ago our
tendency to ``list from one extreme to the other,'' and introduced
his students to the many levels of Buddhist understanding. Especially
in the modern world, a strong understanding of the Noble Truths is
fundamental to this practice. Take for example, this cycle of ``compensatory
self inflation and negation,'' which Epstein attributes to the parental
deficiencies of wanting our children to act in certain ways.
Because of our craving ... we want things to be understandable.
We reduce, concretize, or substantialize experiences or feelings,
which are, in their very nature, fleeting or evanescent. In so doing
we define ourselves by our moods and by our thoughts. We don't let
ourselves be happy or sad ... we must become a happy person or a sad
one. [TWT, p.77]
In much the same way, Epstein states, we must become either a ``good
child'' or a ``not good enough child'', and such decisions, made
early in childhood, cause us to act in ways that fit into this perpetual,
farcical role in our adult lives.
Moving back a bit, it is important to affirm that without the Buddha's
Second Truth, our meditations may, as mentioned above, come to naught.
``The result of searching for the 'True Self' results in
[just] another subjective definition of self. The Buddhist concept
of 'emptiness' implies that there is no 'universal consciousness';
an idea that springs from self-inflation. There is also no 'underlying
emptiness,' a sort of objectification via self-negation.'' A concrete
understanding of this allows us to recognize that there is no 'True'
personality and ``... whenever we find ourselves entering
narcissistic territory we can recognize the terrain without searching
immediately for a [inherently false] alternative.''[TWT, p.73]
First we are to end the search for either an internal, and an ethereal,
self; then we are to recognize that our meditation is not a ``relaxation
of the senses'' to the point of ignoring our internal and external
states (Freud's so-called ``Oceanic Feeling''). What follows
is an example of some of the (incorrect) ways in which we approach
our problems, as well as a suggested Buddhist solution.
Suppose you have been happily married for ten years, you have a house
and a good job. You and your wife have settled into a comfortable
routine around the house; in general you both get home after work,
eat a rushed dinner, and you might sit down to read a new book while
she usually talks on the phone with friends. In general, there is
little communication between you and your wife. One day, when you
run out of new books to read, you turn around and see her with her
back turned to you, enjoying her conversation with an old college
friend; you are struck by the discussion that they are having, it
is fresh and enjoyable... you and your wife haven't had a great conversation
in a very long time! You start asking yourself questions that begin
with the phrase ``Whatever happened to...'' and ``Why don't
we ever ...'' One thing leads to another, and pretty soon you start
asking yourself the very serious questions you have been escaping
in your books... ``What happened to our love?'' and ``Is this
still a real marriage?''
Even in asking yourself those questions, you are already pulling yourself
towards one of two poles. ``What happened to our love (doesn't
she love me anymore? Am I not loveable? We have been together for
over ten years, maybe she sees something wrong with me; she certainly
doesn't want to have a real conversation with me! Am I destined to
be alone forever?)'' On the other hand, ``Is this still a real
marriage? (It has become so dull and depressing. Every day,
day in and day out, I am so bored. We have simply been living together
for too long ... all the little annoying things she does are starting
to get to me. I probably don't love her anymore.)'' The first train
of thought is full of self-negation; your internal 'True' self may
have possibly become exposed to your wife and she has rejected it.
You are doomed to be alone forever. The second train of thought is
expository of self-inflation; instead of recognizing the pain of being
in some way neglected, you subconsciously attribute your pain to your
wife. Your anxiety has caused you a great deal of stress, and because
both you and your wife lead highly repetitive lifestyles, you attribute
that stress to your wife's patterns. What was before a loveable action
has become burdensome to watch. In this way you might believe your
love has been transformed into nonchalance, irritation, or even spite.
Most of us, when confronted with such a situation, would turn back
to our books in the hopes of ignoring the problem for a little while
longer. Unfortunately, suppressing our emotions causes problems elsewhere:
unhappiness and adultery are common outcomes.
Before considering either of the two alternative strings of questions,
as a Buddhist you would recognize that most likely your wife feels
much the same way that you do. Your lives are interconnected, and
she put just as much faith in the relationship as you did. It is because
you lack a separate and private self that you are capable of loving
your wife. Yes, your lives have become routine; yes, you have stopped
communicating your feelings towards each other. Obviously, your relationship
is painful if you have not cultivated it in months or years. Start
talking about it with your wife. Tell her you love her every day and
listen to her as intently as if you were that friend on the other
end of the phone. Soon you will fall in love with her again, and she
with you. Always follow this simple principle:
... there is a way to resolve a doubt: by going into the doubt,
rather than away from it; by purposefully disrupting the existing
structures rather than by indulging them.[TWT, p.57]
Some of life's problems are much harder to solve. In the above example,
you are faced with a set of habits that you very much want to break.
Physically breaking those habits is as simple as telling yourself
that you must: the hard work is psychological in nature. Compulsive
addictions, on the other hand, are much harder to break in the long
run. Smoking, drinking, gambling... all are habits that many of us
are susceptible to. Not only are these habits hard to break, they
can wreak immediate damage to our lives, and are also very easy to
pick up again once broken. Especially in cases like these, a large
community of friends is imperative for breaking old habits. Living
in a Buddhist community, a Sangha, always promotes Right Action.
``... a matrix of friendships is the very soil in which dharma
practice is cultivated.''[BWB, p.114]
A true friendship between two practitioners of Buddhism may be much
different than the sorts of friendships that many of us have, which
are more like acquaintanceships. Such friendships are always truthful
and supportive; and more to the point, the Buddha firmly asserted
that a friendship, especially one between a teacher and student, promotes
the proper practice of Buddhism. In a Sangha, links of true friendships
are so strong that negative actions are not only impossible to hide,
but also impossible to even consider. This setting is of immediate
relevance to those of us suffering from mental afflictions such as
depression, as well as physical problems such as drug addiction. Another
major distinction between modern day friendships and a true friendship
is what I would prefer to call ``not one of the big 19''.
In the September 2001 issue of Utne Reader magazine, the
article named ``The 19 kinds of friends,'' Jeremiah
Creedon lists the major kinds of friendships that we build up in our
lifetimes. In other words, Creedon lists the ways in which we make
friends and then fall into the pattern of always acting in static
ways with one another thereafter. Examples that come to mind include
the friends who we always go drinking with but wouldn't be seen with
in a respectable crowd, and the friends who play on the same sports
team... but with whom we can't have a conversation about anything
other than the team. As another example, Creedon even lists the typical
``Best Friend'', the one we have known since we were little but
with whom we always fall into the trap of acting as if we are sixteen
all over again, each time having the same conversation! In a true
friendship, you are not the ``self'' that others see you as, or
that you wish others to see you as. This ``self'' does not really
exist. You are not ``the supportive shoulder to cry on'', not
``the inquisitive student'', and you are certainly not the same
person you were when you were sixteen! Your friends aren't either
... true growth and companionship comes from recognizing the dynamic
nature of each others' lives.
Friendship does not exist ``in itself'', of course; it does not
exist outside of other processes of our lives! You must be able to
love yourself at the moment that you love another. The capacity
to appreciate self and the capacity to appreciate the other do not
simply go hand in hand: they are the same unitary phenomenon of growth
seen from different angles."[POL, p.30] This brings
us to an interesting discussion, rather a continuation of our previous
discussion about the self (and the lack of a permanent self), in a
new context: that of our identity. New questions come into play, such
as ``If no permanent self exists for ourselves and for others,
how can we continue to identify ourselves and others in our lives?''
and ``How do we discuss our actions, their moral justifications,
and their ramifications if 'we' do not exist in this new Buddhist
context? How do we best speak about our selves without implying that
these selves are consistent through time and our memories?'', and
at the same time, we face the dillemma that if we do not exist in
the old context, do we not exist at all? Certainly the Buddhist perspective
is not one of nihilism!
Before tackling the questions outlined above, a more in-depth treatment
of mindfulness practice is warranted. Specifically because the above
topics are discussed in such objective terms, and speak of objective
terms, both the discussions and objects are like ``the finger that
points at the moon,''[AP, p.219] much like other aspects of
our lives, true understanding comes from direct insight. Likewise,
much of this essay so far has been about the paramitas, in
the form of Right practices. However, while wisdom (intellectual and
otherwise) is one of the paramitas and meditation is also one, both
are prerequisite for prajnaparamita, what in Mahayana Buddhism
is otherwise known as the ``Perfection of Wisdom.''[AP, p.193]
While the act of reading an essay may help to develop intellectual
'surface' wisdom, practicing the Four Establishments of Mindfulness
is key; I will go on to show why later in the essay.
``Without them [the Four Establishments of Mindfulness],
... our body becomes unkempt, our feelings full of suffering, and
our mind a heap of afflictions.''[HBT, p.68]
The four establishments are outlined below. Optimally they are practiced
consistently throughout the day and night, and minimally they are
practiced in the ten minutes that most people allow themselves in
the morning or in the evening. Otherwise known as shamatha,
``stopping, resting, and healing,'' restful meditation allows
us to calm ourselves to the point that our minds are no longer 'dispersed';
it allows us to begin looking deeply.[AP, p.66] Many deeper
explanations than the outlines below do exist, they are optimally
learned from a teacher at a monastery or in a more extensive discussion
of the subject.
-
Mindfulness of the body in the body
Mere recognition is the first part of this establishment. Merely
being aware of every part of the body is not only good practice in
general, it is good practice for future delving into deeper awareness.
When you are sitting, say to yourself "I am sitting",
when you are hunched over, remind yourself "I am hunched
over". Immediately following from mere recognition is awareness
that the physical constituents of our body are really constituents
of the world. For example, we are largely water-based beings. We are
also beings of air and fire: our lives depend on our consistent breaths,
and our bodies can survive in certain levels of warmth and heat.
- Mindfulness of the feelings in the feelings
We must identify with, and fully understand, all of our feelings,
including the uncomfortable ones such as anger and hatred. Only in
doing this can we fully come to appreciate the reasons for them. The
result is that we can let them go (transform them). Calling a feeling
by its name, such as "joy," "happiness,"
"anger," or "sorrow," helps us
identify and see it deeply.
- Mindfulness of the mind in the mind
``There are wholesome/beneficial [mental] formations
and unwholesome ones. The same formation can be beneficial or unbeneficial
depending on the context. Sleepiness is wholesome when you are sleepy,
unwholesome when you are bored. We want to try to separate each of
these and examine them in detail. Anxiety, excitement, joy, happiness,
etc. We want to see each one individually as they come up; including
the unwholesome ones: pain, discomfort, sadness, regret, etc.
... Store consciousness is just mind consciousness at a deeper
level. If we look carefully at our mental formations, we can see their
roots in our store consciousness." [HBT, p.75]
- Mindfulness of the phenomena (the objects of the mind)
An object of the mind is anything that we think about. The windowsill
that we see, the television we hear in the background, all of these
become objects of the mind. When we bring them in via our senses,
our mind helps us to create a concept of the object: the object becomes
a subject of our consciousness. This is where suffering is created;
because if we are ignorant of the nature of interdependent coarising,
the signs that we put onto reality will be false: we will see the
object in a way that is not expressive of its true nature ... a transformation
brought about by our ignorance and grasping. False signs contribute
to much of our pain and suffering. In general, phenomena is a more
proper term for discussions of this establishment; it is more expressive
of the fact that objects are simply signs that we perceive, not instantiations
that exist outside of ourselves.
An obvious prelude to a discussion about identity and knowledge of
self is the assumption, brought about by our previous contemplations,
that no internal core exists; there does not exist a being who defines
a central ``you'', having a ``stage view'' of the world through
your eyes, ears, and other senses, and whose biases and past convictions
are core to your being.
"self" is a functional term that refers to
a construction that represents a great variety of mental and physical
processes; it does not name an ontological entity. [IDENT, p.6]
As in most Buddhist thought, understanding of the self is a three
stage process. An ancient buddha said, ``Mountains are mountains,
waters are waters.'' These words do not mean mountains are mountains;
they mean mountains are mountains.[DOGEN, p.16] Just as cryptic
a statement, but one from which many parallelisms may be drawn; ``Your
life is grasping and aversion; it is impermanent in time. You are
a buddha.''
The Yogacara tradition, in accordance with the Buddhist philosopher
Nagarjuna's teaching of emptiness (sunyata), provides a pragmatic
classification system for knowledge of reality (including knowledge
of the self). In fact, Yogacara particularly contends that all of
these levels of knowledge are accessible to us all: two lesser types
of knowledge; including that of the 'common man' and scientific/analytic
wisdom, and two higher levels of knowledge: direct cognition free
of ignorance and grasping, and direct cognition clear of absolutely
all obscurations ... including those presented in the previous type
of knowledge[AP, p.226]. When I say three ``coarse'' level
of knowledge, I am generally referring to the fact that the first
two lesser forms may be combined into one.
To apply the three ``coarse'' levels of knowledge to the self;
first we look deeply within ourselves from an analytic ``surface''
sort of view. Habits caused by aversion and grasping, such as greed,
jealousy, envy, and hubris, are readily apparent; and in much the
same way the aforementioned mountains are apparently big pieces of
rock with dirt and trees on them. At the next level, with some contemplation,
one can say: I have no self that is permanent. I am constantly changing;
my actions and opinions are different from day to day. After a fashion,
the word mountain does not give us the experience of standing on a
mountain; and neither does a description. A mountain does consist
of rocks and dirt; however reality is much more descriptive. In fact,
due to the interconnected nature of all things on a mountain, it is
impossible to say that a mountain is a thing in and of itself; therefore
a mountain, much like our ``selves'', and in accordance with the
study of sunyata, does not exist in the way that most of us
perceive it to.
Although [the] highest kind of knowledge cannot be adequately
explained by discursive thought, it is accepted by all Buddhists.
For those in whom the enlightened mind has been awakened, its existence
is established experientially.[AP, p.229]
How, then, is it possible to complete a discussion about the mountain,
about our self existence? One recognizable pattern in almost all philosophical
and defining Buddhist works is the sheer amount of text explaining
the actual, and partly physical, practice that leads to enlightenment,
not so much the ``theory''.
...when these barriers [between self and other] disappear,
things and self are experienced as they really are, dynamically interpenetrating
each other, not separate from each other.[IDENT, p.9]
Zen master Dogen, whose writings helped to reinstate fundamental Buddhist
beliefs into Japanese Zen practice in the 13th century, had much to
say about attaining direct knowledge of the world. In particular,
an important theme in his writings and the writings of his disciplines
is that of breaking through barriers. Dogen writes, for example, ``...
take refuge in the great way of the buddha ancestors and devote yourself
to the practice of way-seeking mind. Even if you have not yet aroused
way-seeking mind, follow the examples of the buddha ancestors who
did arouse way-seeking mind in former times.''[DOGEN, p.87]
In other words, the practice of enlightenment is available and accessible
to all those who have begun on the path and have begun to emotionally,
consciously, analytically, and finally, experientially, understand
the path. Later, Dogen writes,
... Now mountains, rivers, earth, the sun, the moon, and stars
are mind. [ We experience all things in our minds, the experience
does not exist outside of our minds ]
... There are various kinds of mountains ... A billion worlds
and innumerable lands can be found in a mountain. There are mountains
suspended in form; there are mountains suspended in emptiness. [
Just as above, direct realization provides awareness that a mountain,
our ``self'', is not a thing in and of itself. Rather it is composed
of infinitely many interrelated processes. However, here there is
something new; not only is the mountain empty of form, it is also
of form. What does this mean? Direct realization of the highest
form is actually the ability to perceive things of form, admit the
existence of the thing itself (as before, Buddhism is not nihilism),
all the while with the underlying direct knowledge of the interrelated
processes inherent in the thing. This definition also extends to subjects,
or people. ]
[DOGEN, p.89]
One popular analogy, aptly named ``moon in a dewdrop'', builds
on the Soto Zen traditions and Dogen's work of breaking the 'barriers'
of dualist existence by explaining the awakened mind as the small
dewdrop that reflects the skies and earth. The dualist view purports
that the unawakened mind keeps all things and people at bay via the
two conflicting concepts of ``self'' and ``other''. In examining
the error of adopting such a view, a person is ``realized
by myriad things.'' Moreover, ``To carry yourself forward
and experience myriad things is delusion. That myriad things come
forth and experience themselves is awakening.'' It is easy to see
the benefits that such a deep awareness of the self and the world
can bring. For example, asking a love interest out on a date becomes
a little easier after considering all the similarities that exist
between what we originally considered concrete instances of ``self''
and ``other''; all of these similarities are good reasons to ask!
Alternatively, anger at an enemy recedes more quickly when his or
her viewpoint is examined in proper context.
Simply because the realization of the emptiness of self and other
is not only caused by you, but rather by the ``other'', it can
be said that true realization requires both the so-called ``perceiver''
and ``object''. In other words, the term ``realized by myriad
things'' quite literally means that your realization comes from the
world and is caused by all things in existence; if realization were
viewed from the ``internal'' perspective, it would be more of
an immediate reaction to the realization that comes from the ``outside''.
This reaction is at the direct level and is not something that is
``reasoned'' out or ``concluded'', it is just that: a reaction
to the processes of the world that give rise to realization. The reaction
itself is, of course, realization. ``When buddhas are truly
buddhas they do not necessarily notice that they are buddhas. However,
they are actualized buddhas, who go on actualizing buddhas.'' Since
realization is the reaction, it combines with all of our other reactions
to form our lives; its importance comes from the fact that it is
a reaction, as opposed to a reasoned out concept that is grasped
at. ``When actualized by myriad things, your body and mind
as well as the bodies and minds of others drop away. No trace of realization
remains, and this no-trace continues endlessly.''[DOGEN, p.70]
Corollary to my previous statement, it is safe to say that realization
cannot exist without the existence and co-dependence of all things
in the world, including your ``self''.
Buddhist beliefs, the core of which are represented in the dharma
wheel, have historically been misinterpreted by the foremost proponents
of Buddhism itself, and by those who preached a very similar theory
of mind. From the 'atomization' of ``dharmas'' in Sarvastivada
Buddhism to the current religious interpretations of the philosophy,
with so many of its practitioners misunderstanding such concepts as
rebirth, to Freud's characterization of the practice as an attempt
to attain an oceanic feeling, none of these events are surprising
in themselves. Buddhist philosophy teaches adaptation to the current
times; and because understanding comes slowly and is hard to convey,
misinterpretations are to be expected. Those teachings which were
originally given by Siddhartha Gautama in Deer Park, however, are
just as relevant now as they were then. Using the dharma wheel to
convey the teachings is a method that has repeatedly proved its own
effectiveness.
Teaching may start at either the rim of the wheel, which may signify
the Eight Noble Truths, or at the hub, which may signify direct realization,
freedom from ignorance, and consequently, selflessness; the spokes
of the dharma wheel bring to light the psychological and physiological
realms of existence. All of these are taught conceptually together
and one at a time, allowing the student to examine each and relate
them to his or her own understanding of the world. Upon actual practice
of mindfulness meditation such as sitting meditation, walking meditation,
or any of the other plethora of teachings as given by the teacher
to the student, a more direct insight forms in the student. With the
proper cultivation and mindset, this insight will grow as the student
grows.
... although wind and rain wear them down, the Eight Pagodas,
standing layer upon layer through numerous frosts and flowers, are
not diminished in their merit, remaining in emptiness and form. Because
of this, even if you have delusion and hindrance, when you practice
the controlling power, the moral power, the limbs of enlightenment,
and the noble path, the power of the Eight Pagodas is still vital
in your practice and realization.[DOGEN, p.179]
In effect, Buddhism is the study of a lifetime, just as readily as
it is a treatment for a malady. Optimally, those who are genuinely
attracted to the sound reasoning and suggestions of the Buddha can
and will continue their practice and likewise bring it forward to
the next generation. This practice of passing understanding and knowledge
is very important and becomes a key goal for many advanced practitioners.
Particularly, Dogen pragmatizes this practice via his descriptions
of the transmission of the ``true dharma eye'' between master
and disciple in the Buddha's line.
Shakyamuni Buddha saw venerable Mahakashyapa [his disciple]
in person. Venerable Mahakashyapa saw Ananda in person, and
venerable Ananda bowed formally to venerable Mahakashyapa's buddha
face. This is face-to-face transmission. ...
Thus, the authentic ancestors of all generations have continued
face-to-face transmission, disciple seeing teacher, and teacher seeing
disciple. An ancestor, a teacher, or disciple cannot be a buddha or
an ancestor without having face-to-face- transmission.[DOGEN, p. 177]
Dogen regards this practice as extremely important. Transmission of
the knowledge helps others just as it helps the practitioner; he also
considers that much of Buddhist teaching is based on this awareness
between the teacher and the student. As, is clearly evident, Buddhism
is not a linear progression of precepts, the practice of buddhism,
which leads to its greatest teachers, also continues through these
teachers.
Dogen mentions the Eight Pagodas, ``The pagodas which are
said to have been built in the eight places related to Shakyamuni
Buddha's life.'' These buildings signify the teachings of the original
Buddha specifically, and all of the teachings of his direct successors.
In other words, the pagodas signify the passage of buddhism from teacher
to disciple. Dogen also mentions the thirty seven bodhipakshikas,
``[the] thirty seven wings of or conditions favorable
to enlightenment: Four applications of mindfulness, four right efforts,
...[cut for brevity]..., and eightfold noble path.'' These are
the main teachings leading to enlightenment, and signify the existence
of enlightenment. How do these two concepts compare to each other?
The merit of Shakyamuni Buddha is like this. Even so, face-to-face
transmission is incomparably greater than the Eight Pagodas. The thirty-seven
bodhipakshikas are rooted in the buddha face, the buddha mind, the
buddha body, the buddha way, the buddha nose, and the buddha tongue.
The merit of the Eight Pagodas is also based on the buddha face and
so forth. While practicing the vital path of penetration, a person
who studies dharma should day and night think deeply about this and
rejoice in quietness.
The direct teachings of Buddhism have merit; this is the merit inherent
of attaining enlightenment. While teaching is very important, and
certified successors of the Buddha are able to teach and give insight
into direct realization, all of the merit of their teachings comes
from existence itself. Just as the world certified Shakyamuni Buddha's
realization, it is the world which can certify our realization as
well.
References
-
[HBT]
- The Heart of the Buddha's Teaching. Thich Nhat Hanh. Berkeley,
Calif., Parallax Press, 1998.
- [TWT]
- Thoughts Without a Thinker: psychotherapy from a Buddhist
perspective. Mark Epstein. 1995, BasicBooks, New York,
NY.
- [AP]
- Asian Philosophies. 4th Ed. John M. Koller. 2002, Prentice
Hall, Upper Saddle River, New Jersey.
- [BWB]
- Buddhism Without Beliefs: a contemporary guide to awakening.
Stephen Batchelor. 1997, Riverhead Books, New York, NY.
- [PSYCH-SH]
- Tucker-Ladd, Clayton E. Psychological Self-Help. http://mentalhelp.net/psyhelp/chap9/chap9n.htm
- [WN]
- WordNet, www.dict.org
- [POL]
- Warren S. Poland, in Journal of the American Psychoanalytic Association,
Vol. 48. No. 1, Winter, 2000, pp. 17-35 Poland, 18.
- [IDENT]
- ``Human Identity''. John M. Koller
- [DOGEN]
- Moon in a Dewdrop: writings of Zen Master Dogen. Edited
by Kazuaki Tanahashi. Tenth Printing, 2001. North Point Press, New
York, NY.
- 1
- Fahrenheit 451, by Ray Bradbury, Part 1
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