Seeing It Like It Is: The Work of a Buddha

November 16, 2003

Buddhism has had a certain reputation in some quarters of the West that needs correcting. That reputation was succinctly expressed by some graffiti I saw in a men's room some years ago; perhaps you have seen similar public reflections. Since we're in church, I'll refine the words a bit, but you shouldn't have much trouble figuring out the original text if you want to.

This is what it said: "Life stinks and then you die." It would be hard to find a saying that's more depressing and pessimistic; it's so filled with futility and hopelessness. And yet, from the point of view of the Buddha, there is a great deal to it - it is a great half-truth. If we can let it in it turns out there is an astonishing amount of suffering in the world - there's so much disappointment and distress, fear and loss and grief and just flat out pain all around. When we are sick, this is obvious; if we are dealing with the losses of advanced old age, this is obvious; if we know we will soon be dying, this is obvious. Yet even when things are not going badly in some dramatic way, there can still be a creeping pervasive sense that life could be a lot better than it is, that too often it seems tedious and boring and aimless.

This, it turns out, is the first of the Four Noble Truths of the Buddha: Life is filled with suffering, dissatisfaction, and stress (dukkha in Pali). There's so much of it that we all to some extent try to shield and protect ourselves through denial - when I'm watching the news on TV, for example, I find that when a story is particularly cruel or tragic that I just can't take it and I turn my eyes away because it's too painful.

So far this all seems like bad news, but this is only the first of the four truths. Now comes the Buddha saying over and over again "I teach just one thing: suffering and the end of suffering." Now "suffering and the end of suffering" seem like two things, but the Buddha is emphatic: this is one thing. What does he mean?

This is the very heart and genius of the Buddha's teaching and it runs strongly against our natural inclinations: the way to end suffering is to go through it, to enter it deeply and 'see it like it is'. Avoiding it doesn't work, denying it doesn't work, but bringing a courageous heart and a discerning mind to it does work. To understand in the deepest way possible the nature of suffering is to find freedom from it; "suffering and the end of suffering" really can be seen as one thing.

So let's look into it. If we look into the very middle of suffering we find resistance, a yearning for things to be different from what they are. This is the Buddha's Second Noble Truth: suffering arises from craving, from attachment (tanha). We want things to be a certain way and the universe is just not cooperating: we want constant dependable pleasure but we don't get it, we want to be loved and appreciated for every thing that we do but we aren't, we want the power to run things just the way we like them but we can't.

And then after a life time of trying to get the universe to conform to our will and do our bidding, a revolutionary thought may occur to us: maybe the problem is not with a recalcitrant universe, maybe the problem is with my will, with my craving. Maybe my desires are being misdirected. What would it be like to not be enthralled by craving and yearning and self-centered desire? What would it be like instead to be in harmony with the universe instead of fighting it, to be at peace with the way things are instead of making war on it? And this is indeed the prospect held out to us by the Third Noble Truth: Release from suffering arises from non-attachment, from letting go, from being willing to accept the simple truth of things.

And how can this revolution be accomplished? Once again it is a matter of 'seeing it like it is'. In the middle of suffering, there is craving. In the middle of craving, there is self. The desires that give us trouble are the ones that are self-centered: I want this, I fear that. There is a self-reference to so much of what we do, a kind of abiding endemic narcissism. Even when we're doing something kind and good for another isn't there some corner of the mind that hopes someone else is noticing because 'this is making me look pretty good'. Whether it's obvious or subtle, self seems to be everywhere in our experience.

But let's not stop there. The Buddha issues us a challenge: are you finally sick and tired of this ocean of anguish and tears? Are you finally ready for the radical step of seeing life clearly no matter what? What's needed is fearless observation, 'seeing it like it is'.

In the middle of suffering is craving.
In the middle of craving is self.
In the middle of self is…..what?

Let me approach this from another angle. There has been a series of programs on PBS recently entitled The Elegant Universe which has been a splendid presentation of contemporary physics and so called string theory. The theory is gaining ground that the universe is comprised of an inconceivably huge number of inconceivably tiny vibrating strings. It holds that the universe is far stranger than we normally think. For example the familiar world we thought we were living in has four dimensions: three dimensions of space (up/down, left/right, back/forth) and one of time (before/after). In fact, though, reality may conceal not four dimensions but eleven and there may be parallel universes all around us.

Now please don't ask me to explain any of this - either watch the shows or ask K.C. Swallow the next time you see her. But one thing is clear: the world is stunningly different from what we expected. The belief that the world is filled with solid things like tables and cars and rocks has been exploded for many decades now. What common sense thinks of as "things" are really composed of molecules which are in turn composed of atoms which are in turn composed of sub-atomic particles and mostly empty space. The more deeply we look into it, the more the concept of a "thing" begins to dissolve. It turns out there really are no things but only patterns of energy. The universe is a quivering dance of kaleidoscopic energy. This is fully compatible with the ancient Buddhist doctrine of anicca, no-substance which says that there are no things, only events and that the universe is through and through impermanent, dynamic, and in process. It's only our feeble senses that register all this as a world of solid stable things. Things are not what they seem.

Returning to the concept of "self", the Buddhists say the same sort of thing is going on. We seem to our normally weak powers of observation to be relatively solid selves to whom the experiences of life occur. But if we look with unwavering concentration and simple objectivity, we find that we aren't what we seem to be. If there is no such thing as a 'thing', then there's no such thing as a 'self' either. Selves are just like everything else in the cosmos, a pattern of energy; when you come right down to it, there's nothing solid there.

Now this is all very controversial and we need to realize that the Buddha insists that no one should take this on faith. He invites us to investigate for ourselves: in the midst of all the sensings and feelings and thinkings and willings of experience is there any solid self to whom all this is happening? Take a look.

Now even if you grant him that this insight is true, why should it lead to the end of suffering? Why is it supposed to be so profoundly liberating?

Consider this: many traditions in the world locate the source of sin and evil in selfishness. In classical Christianity the deadliest of the seven deadly sins is pride, an attitude of self-congratulation and self-concern that is so pervasive that it could be called self-worship. We spend so much of our lives asserting ourselves and defending ourselves and worrying about ourselves.

But if we really understood that there is no self to assert or defend or worry about, wouldn't that cut the knot of selfishness and sin in a stroke? Wouldn't that mean that all our cravings and resistance are just impermanent patterns of energy that come and go as conditions change? It turns out that one can relax and soften inside an experience of craving and that that softening transforms it. Simply beholding a craving with steady, non-judgmental, sensitive attention helps it to dissipate. And when the craving goes, the suffering goes; there is the peace of harmony and simple acceptance.

Consider the experience of physical pain. Dr. Jon Kabat-Zinn of the U Mass Medical Center has become world-renowned for teaching patients how to use Buddhist practices to cope with chronic pain. He points out that at the base of pain are strong sensations: throbbing, itching, pulling, heat, cold and so on. But very quickly in response to these sensations arise thoughts and feelings as well: feelings of aversion, anger, or helplessness and thoughts like "This is terrible. It's going to last forever. Why me?". It's this extra layer of thought and feeling that constitutes suffering; if one could let go of such thoughts and feelings (not suppressing them, but letting them float), one could return to the bare sensations themselves and watch them like fire-works displays. By relaxing into physical pain one can cope with it far more effectively.

The same is true of emotional pain and suffering. When conditions are right, emotional pain comes: grief or anger or sadness. But by focusing steady attention not on the cause but on the feeling itself, you see how it fluctuates moment to moment, you see its impermanent nature, and you realize deeply that it will pass.

So what are we to do when it seems like 'life stinks and then we die'? It is to develop a mind and heart that knows how to be with things just as they are even if they do seem stinky. And how you do that is the subject of the Fourth Noble Truth which is the Eightfold Path. There is a discipline, a course of training that has been trod by millions over the last 2500 years which the Buddha says can lead beyond suffering to bliss and nirvana. These eight dimensions of practice are:

Right knowledge Right speech Right livelihood Right concentration

Right aspiration                     Right conduct                     Right effort                     Right mindfulness

Let me close by telling you briefly the story of someone who did see it like it was; it's the famous story of Kisa Gotami. Kisa Gotami was a young woman in desperate straits: living far from where she grew up, her husband had died leaving her with only their young son. But then her little boy took sick and died, and that was when Kisa Gotami just snapped. The loss was so enormous that she couldn't let it in and instead wandered the streets carrying her son's body asking if anyone could cure her sick son. People laughed at her saying "your son's not sick; he's dead!", but she couldn't hear it. Then someone sent her to the Buddha. She approached the Buddha and asked "O sir, can you help me with my sick son?" And he said "Yes, I can. I will need to make medicine from mustard seeds. Can you go to town and get me some?" Kisa eagerly answered "Yes". "There's just one thing," the Buddha added, "the mustard seeds must come from a house that has not known death." She rushed to town, went to a house and asked for mustard seeds; they were about to give them to her when she remembered to ask "Oh, has this house known death?" She then heard many sad stories about those there who had died. So she went to a second house where the same thing happened, and to a third where the same thing happened and she finally got it: every house has known death; as painful as her loss is, it is a loss shared in some way by everyone. When she saw for herself how it really was, she accepted her boy's death, cremated the body, joined the Buddha's community and achieved nirvana.

The work of 'seeing it like it is' is hard, but I'm sure you've noticed that the world could use a few more wise, courageous, and peaceful beings. The work of a Buddha is challenging, but really - do you have anything better to do?

Dr. Arthur Ledoux

Some books:

• Joseph Goldstein, Insight Meditation: The Practice of Freedom
  
• Jon Kabat-Zinn, Full Catastrophe Living
  
• Jack Kornfield, A Path with Heart: A Guide through the Perils and Promises of Spiritual Life
  
• Robert Thurman, Inner Revolution: Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Real Happiness