Showing posts with label non-self. Show all posts
Showing posts with label non-self. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Science versus Faith - The Fourth Noble Truth (the Eightfold Path)

What attracts me to Buddhism is that it's a practice – it’s not a faith.  There is nothing you have to believe just because someone says it's true.  Every practice can be tried and its validity tested.  At the very core of Buddhism is the Eightfold Path - a set of specific practices to be undertaken with the goal of liberation from suffering.

The past few posts have been on what are called the Four Noble Truths - the first teaching that the historical Buddha gave after his enlightenment.  To summarize, they say that (1) suffering and stress exist, (2) we cause most of it by our own thoughts and actions, but (3) we don't have to suffer.  The Fourth Noble Truth is that there is a path we can follow to be liberated from suffering - this is the Eightfold Path.  I should apologize about the length of this post - even keeping it brief it's going to be long.  Why?  I've noted before that Buddhists love numbered lists - just wait till you see this one...there are lists within lists in the Eightfold Path!

The first two arms of the path focus on discernment, or wisdom (prajna), the next three focus on ethical conduct and discipline (sila), and the last three focus on stability and concentration (samadhi):
  1. Right view/outlook/understanding:  This is the cognitive aspect of wisdom, where we can examine for ourselves the Noble Truths and realize that there is some accuracy to them. 
  2. Right intention/resolve:  This is the volitional aspect of wisdom.  Once we see that there is a path out of suffering, we aspire to end suffering.  Recognizing that thoughts precede actions, we resolve to set foot on the path. The Buddha discussed three kinds of right intention:
    • Renunciation - Aspiring to let go of the need for certain outcomes; this is an antidote to desire.
    • Good will - Aspiring to think and act kindly, even to our enemies; this is an antidote to ill will.
    • Harmlessness - Aspiring to do no harm, even to our enemies; this is an antidote to aggression.
  3. Right speech - there are four types:
    • Abstaining from lying, abstaining from from divisive speech/slander/gossip, abstaining from abusive/harsh/unkind words, and abstaining from idle chatter that serves no purpose
    • Ultimately, the issue is if it isn't (1) true, (2) beneficial, and (3) timely, one ought not to say it.  For example, saying something brutally honest at the wrong time is unskillful speech, and can bring harm rather than benefit.
    • Although the Buddha didn't directly discuss this, to my knowledge, it is beneficial to think about this as referring to both inner speech and outer speech.  We are often harsh and critical of ourselves, and this brings no benefit (and it's often too extreme, and therefore untrue).
  4. Right action/conduct - Again, three kinds:
    • Abstaining from killing
    • Abstaining from taking what is not given
    • Abstaining from sexual conduct
  5. Right livelihood
    • This is a tricky one, given that the world has changed so much since the time of the Buddha.  I tend to think the important aspects are (1) your wealth/income is obtained through rightful means, (2) what you need to do in your job is not in conflict with right speech or right action.  Traditionally, the Buddha listed five types of jobs that are in conflict with the goal of liberation from suffering: selling weapons, trafficking in human beings, meat production, selling intoxicants, and selling poisons.
  6. Right effort
    • To change our thoughts and behaviors takes effort.  Effort by itself is neither wholesome nor unwholesome, so there are four types of right effort.
    • Preventing unwholesome thoughts/behaviors from arising
    • Letting go of unwholesome thoughts/behaviors once they have arisen
    • Cultivating wholesome thoughts and behaviors so they arise more frequently
    • Maintaining wholesome thoughts and behaviors once they have arisen
  7. Right mindfulness/awareness/attention
    • This is about learning be mindful of what is actually occurring at each instant, and letting go of our typical tendency to label, categorize, and judge everything - it's sometimes called bare attention.
    • Traditionally, there are four foundations of mindfulness - mindfulness of body, feeling, mind, and phenomena (mental constructs), which we can discuss another time.
    • The goal is through learning to be mindful of yourself, including thoughts and feelings, you begin to discern some basic truths in your own experience (the three characteristics of Dharma).  First, that all things are impermanent.  Everything with a beginning has an ending.  Everything is in a constant state of change.  Second, that suffering exists (the First Noble Truth of dukkha).  Third, that we ourselves are not the singular, independent, permanent, important selves we usually feel ourselves to be, but that we are interdependent and also constantly changing (the concept of non-self).
  8. Right meditation/concentration
    • This is where meditation comes in, training for stable and concentrated attention (traditionally on wholesome thoughts and actions)
    • This trains the unification (collecting) of the mind.  Note that it takes right effort to keep the mind focused, right mindfulness to become aware of any hindrances to concentration, and then right effort again to eliminate the hindrances and to create the conditions conducive to concentration.
With the new-found clarity, awareness, and stability that comes from mindfulness and meditation, we are able to see more deeply and gain wisdom and equanimity, and then we're back around to increasing Right View.  The Eightfold Path is not really a linear path, but a spiral, with lots of connections between the eight parts.

Let's take a step back, and consider the word "right" at the beginning of each of these.  The Pali word is samma, and it doesn't mean right in the sense of right versus wrong.  It's right in the way of being skillful, complete, correct for the job, like a hammer is the "right" tool for the job of hitting a nail.  So I personally prefer translating these as skillful speech, skillful effort, etc.

It is significant that although we think of the path to enlightenment as a personal journey, half of the eight arms to the path are about our relationship with others or the world around us.

The Eightfold Path ultimately is a gradual path.  First we find it, we see that it leads somewhere valuable, and we set an intention to walk it.  As we start down it, we find that it’s not solitary, but brings us into communion with others; therefore our intentions are relevant, our thoughts are relevant, our speech and actions are relevant.  We find that by paying attention to making our thoughts, speech, and actions more skillful, we become better able to care for our own minds and hearts so we can shed unhelpful states.  Mindfulness and a heightened capacity to notice is relevant, and with time we become more focused, stable, and concentrated.  As we begin to change, the qualities grow inside until the destination and you are no different, and you know peace.

So what is the role of faith in Buddhism?  It may take some faith to set foot on the path, but over time, you will find what works and what doesn’t, and you will build your own knowledge and wisdom, ultimately relying on yourself – not faith in something I told you or some magical external power.

Sorry....that's as simple as I could make it.  Next time we'll tackle something easy, like quantum physics.

Sunday, February 17, 2013

Ernest Hemmingway and Emptiness (Shunyata)

In 1933, Ernest Hemmingway wrote a three-page short story, titled A Clean, Well-Lighted Place.  It's a masterpiece of writing technique, and valuable for study simply for that.  But for such a short piece, it is a profound description of the human condition as it relates to the Buddhist concept of Śūnyatā, which is often translated as emptiness or nothingness.

Westerners often become acquainted with this when hearing how Buddhists talk about non-self or egolessness.  This is a difficult concept, and it usually gets misinterpreted in one of at least two ways.  It can sound like Buddhists think you don't actually exist, or that Buddhism is nihilistic and that there is no meaning to anything.  This is incorrect.  Buddhism does not deny that you or anything else exists, but instead that everything exists dependently on everything else and is constantly changing - so there isn't a solid "thing" that is you.  You are different in each new situation and with each passing moment.  Furthermore, this understanding makes it clear that everything is actually much more meaningful than we usually realize.  If we are interconnected with everything else, then our actions matter for more than just ourselves.

Nonetheless, it is definitely disconcerting when you stare this truth in the face.  Realizing that everything you think you are is not accurate, that there is nothing solid and unchanging, and that there is nothing about you that is really "you" can be terrifying.  What happens when you come face to face with this nothingness?  Hemmingway describes three paths.  I recommend reading the story right now by clicking here.

There are three characters, the old man customer, the young waiter, and the old waiter.  Each has a different approach to dealing with the inherent emptiness of existence.

The Old Man

"Last week he tried to commit suicide," one waiter said.
"Why?"
"He was in despair."
"What about?"
"Nothing."
Facing the inherent instability of existence, what Pema Chodron often calls "groundlessness," the "fundamental ambiguity," or sometimes the "fundamental anxiety of being human," is scary.  I had a student who could easily be reduced to a terrified puddle of nonfunctionality any time she considered the fragility of her existence.  Indeed, there are whole branches of psychology (e.g., Terror Management Theory) devoted to describing this fear and our reaction to it.   The old man typifies one reaction - he despairs.
"He's drunk now," he said.
"He's drunk every night."
The old man tries to numb himself to the nothingness, and when even that doesn't work, he leaps into it trying to annihilate himself.

The Young Waiter

"I wish he would go home.  I never get to bed before three o'clock. What kind of hour is that to go to bed?"
"He stays up because he likes it."
"He's lonely.  I'm not lonely.  I have a wife waiting in bed for me."
The young waiter exemplifies another typical response - he works harder to hold onto his selfish point of view.  He clings to the perception that his way of seeing things is right and others are the selfish ones.

"I wouldn't want to be that old. An old man is a nasty thing."
"Not always.  This old man is clean.  He drinks without spilling.  Even now, drunk.  Look at him."
"I don't want to look at him.  I wish he would go home.  He has no regard for those who must work."
He refuses to look at truth.  Although the young waiter will get old like the customer, he wants instead only to rush off, distracting himself constantly and believing that his point of view is solid.  When confronted with the difficulties of life, compassion, and uncertainty, he rejects them and cloaks himself in confidence.
"No," the waiter who was in a hurry said, rising from pulling down the metal shutters. "I have confidence. I am all confidence."
The young waiter is a personification of Avidyā, or ignorance. Traditionally, this is one of the "three poisons," and is taken to mean a fundamental misunderstanding of the self as separate and solid. This is the not-knowing aspect of ignorance. The young waiter also demonstrates another aspect, however - the ignoring aspect of ignorance. He clings to his perceptions and actively ignores seeing anything else.

The Old Waiter

"I am of those who like to stay late at the café," the older waiter said. "With all those who do not want to go to bed. With all those who need a light for the night."
"I want to go home and into bed."
"We are of two different kinds," the older waiter said. He was now dressed to go home. "it is not only a question of youth and confidence although those things are very beautiful. Each night I am reluctant to close up because there may be some one who needs the café."
The old waiter demonstrates a more mature and wise approach. He does not deny the fear that comes with the fundamental groundlessness of existence - indeed, he feels it deeply.
What did he fear? It was not a fear or dread. It was a nothing that he knew too well. It was all a nothing and a man was a nothing too. It was only that and light was all it needed and a certain cleanness and order. Some lived in it and never felt it but he knew it was all nada y pues nada y nada y pues nada. Our nada who art in nada, nada be thy name...
This is perhaps a type of right view - seeing things as they are. There is nothing to hold on to, and there is nothing outside ourselves that can fix that. Nonetheless, shining a light on it helps - in contrast to ignoring it or masking it with external stimulation and diversion ("Certainly you do not want music.") You want to stand before it with dignity, and when you do you see that it is not as scary as it first seems. In fact, it has a type of orderliness to it that can be reassuring. Some of the fear comes from the words we use - we focus on words like emptiness, nothingness, and groundlessness. Instead, we could just as easily say "freedom." Because we are not solid, we have much more freedom to act, react, and feel than we usually believe.
He disliked bars and bodegas. A clean, well-lighted café was a very different thing. Now, without thinking further, he would go home to his room. He would lie in the bed and finally, with daylight, he would go to sleep. After all, he said to himself, it's probably only insomnia. Many must have it.
The old waiter still feels the anxiety. He cannot sleep in the dark. But he also recognizes that he is not alone - many must have this fear. For me, here is the heart of this parable. The old waiter not only can accept his own anxiety, but he has compassion for all others and the ways in which they deal with it, and he is willing to stay open later at night in case there is one whom he can help. This is the bodhisattva ideal - that as we achieve enlightenment, we remain open to help others who can benefit from it.