Sitting with Pain

Image Courtesy of Fred Seibert on Flickr

Let’s face it, no one likes pain...well some people do, but only in specific situations and for specific reasons. But can pain be something to learn from? As my kung fu instructor was fond of saying, “Pain is a wonderful teacher, but no one wants to go to his class.” Want to learn that something is hot? Burning your hand is a quick way to make sure you don’t do that again. I was actually playing rugby once and got kicked in the head on the bottom of a ruck. When I mentioned this to my coach, he laughed and said that was a not so subtle hint not to be there next time. So why am I talking about all this here and now?

Believe it or not, and if you’ve been sitting for any length of time, you believe it, zazen can be the source of more than a little pain and discomfort. If you really pay attention to your everyday activities, you’ll notice that you don’t sit still very long. Or at least not perfectly still very long. Even when you’re just lounging on the couch, you still move and adjust from time to time. Foot falling asleep. Move it. Hip a little sore. Adjust. In zazen, we are going against that natural tendency to adjust at the first sign of discomfort. But why? Why do we sit so perfectly still that our bodies begin to rebel? Why not scratch every itch and move at every ache? Doesn’t sitting only until your legs get sore make way more sense?

By remaining perfectly still, we allow the body to settle and since in Zen we don’t separate the mind from the body, the mind settles as well. It’s like the glitter in a glitter jar. Once you stop shaking the jar and set it down, the jar settles, the water settles, and the glitter settles. But this is only one of the myriad lessons that sitting perfectly still teaches us. Another is about the nature of pain and the nature of the mind.

Pain is the body’s way of telling you something is wrong. That’s its job. Hey you driving the bus. There’s something you should come take a look at. So far so good. But it doesn’t stop there. Our thinking mind notices the pain as well and starts adding its own commentary to the story. Suddenly, it’s no longer just an itch on your face, but something that will surely drive you mad. Is there a spider crawling on my neck? What if my foot falls so asleep that it has to be amputated? Is that even possible? On and on the mind goes with its stories, thoughts, and comments.

From my perspective, there are a few things going on here worth looking at. The first is the fact that your mind is just plain bored. Think about meditation really honestly and you’ll find that a certain level of boredom is always present and absolutely necessary. We spend so much time avoiding being bored that it can seem almost overwhelming when we just sit still and stair at a wall. So, deprived of other more interesting things, the mind latches onto the pain and uses it to occupy itself.

It’s also worth pointing out that the mind tends to rebel against sensations that it has labeled as bad. We suffer when we are in pain because it goes against what we feel we should be feeling. We don’t like being uncomfortable and so we fight against it. As I write this, I have a massive sinus headache. If I focus on how much I wish my head didn’t hurt, I suffer because my head does hurt and that runs against what I really want which is to not hurt. But, if I instead release my attachment to how I think I should be feeling, it doesn’t hurt so much. A headache might still be an uncomfortable sensation, but I’m not adding the suffering to it by wanting my current state to be something other than it is. As the coffee mugs say, “Pain is inevitable, Suffering is optional.”

Another interesting thing that pain does for us during meditation is bring us back to the present moment. Try ignoring an uncomfortable leg or a twinge in your back. You’ll find that no matter how hard you try to not pay attention, the nagging sensation demands attention and while you’re noticing it, you’re not off somewhere else fantasizing or planning or whatever else.

A quick note of caution. As I mentioned above, pain is the body’s way of telling you something is amiss. Sharp pain especially can be a sign of something major. And believe it or not, people have injured themselves by sitting through immense pain during meditation. This is rather atypical and generally only happens in extreme cases. One major cause of injury from sitting is trying to sit full or half lotus when your hips are too tight. The rotation necessary for these postures comes from the hips, not the knees. So if you feel any knee pain, you should adjust your posture. Also remember that there is a difference between discomfort and pain or as my old football coach used to say, there’s a difference between being hurt and being injured.

Once we begin to really examine the sensations in our body, both good and bad, we can start letting them be what they are going to be without adding any additional mental noise to them. We let go of our stories about how things ought to be or that this feeling is good and this one is bad. Everything is just a part of the tapestry of our lives. The good, the bad, and the ugly. All go together to make up the life we live. So resist scratching that itch or adjusting that leg and instead see your life as it is in that moment of discomfort.


Gassho,


Daishin

What Really Matters - Priorities

photo courtesy of Peter Reed on Flickr

What really matters in this life? When you get to the end of yours, what will you say you wish you had done more of? Had more of?

The answer to this question is different for each of us. Many people go through their whole lives never thinking about it. We are scared of death and so we avoid thinking about our lives ending until in some cases it’s too late. 

Sometimes I’m accused of being pessimistic because I ask this question of myself and those that I care about. I don’t see it as pessimistic. I see it as realistic. Tomorrow is not guaranteed and at some point we will die. There is no alternative. No one gets out alive. As David Wong says in John Dies at the End, “You're gonna die, Arnie. Someday you will face that moment. And at that moment you will face either complete nonexistence, or you will face something even stranger. On an actual day in the future, Arnie, you will be in the unimaginable. It is physically impossible to avoid it.” Some of us will have experiences that bring this fact crashing through the walls of our reality like a deranged Kool-Aid man and we’ll have no choice. But why should we wait for something like that to happen. If it’s that certain, then it only makes sense to on some level consider it. I’m not saying we should dwell on our inevitable fate, but some thought is worth it. 

Our society has an answer all ready for us to the question of what is important. Money. Power. Fame. Stuff. The Capitalistic way of life is built firmly on the foundation of insatiable need for stuff. We need better cars, bigger houses, more money. We believe having these things will make our lives more comfortable; more secure. We think we can shield ourselves from the harsher side of life. And maybe on some level we can. But all the money, power, and fame in the World does not guarantee that we won’t get hit by a bus tomorrow or live beyond the end of this year. So how much does that new car really matter? How much of your precious time on this Earth are you going to devote to having more than you really need?

Now before I or anyone else starts to get the wrong impression about what I’m saying here, I am not advocating that we all quit our jobs. Remember, that the Buddha preached the Middle Way between extremes. Have money, but don’t be greedy. Have stuff, but not too much. Above all, really consider what matters to you and make time for it.

For me, I find that I want to spend more time with my family, more time with my teacher, and more time on my practice. Does another hour of video games really matter? Probably not. Am I still going to play them? Yes, but not to the detriment of everything else. And keeping my priorities straight is an ongoing task. Just like a ship, I can set my course in the direction I want, but I still need to check in from time to time and make sure the bow is pointed in the right direction. Are you charting the course you really want or letting outside forces blow you around?

Gassho,

Daishin

Toilet Zen

Photo courtesy of  Jan Ubels on Flickr

It seems that we spend a lot of time as a species separating things into the categories of Good and Bad. We look at the world around us and immediately begin to move things into one bucket or another like a frantic toddler trying to get a piece of candy for picking up their Legos. Sometimes we go even farther and label some items as evil or impure or profane. The problem with this is that when we do this sort of sorting, good/bad right/wrong yes/no, we create a dualistic separation between ourselves and the rest of the Universe. In a lot of ways, this dualistic view is the cause of so much of the suffering in the world.

Zen is about living our lives in this World. Seeing things as they are. Without attaching labels to everything and creating separation where none exists. We tend to get ourselves very confused on this point by thinking that certain things are part of our practice and other things are not. But isn’t everything that we do a part of our Life. If Zen is about living, then what can possibly be outside of our practice? This is an idea that has echoed down through the ages with some of the most prominent masters going to great lengths to expound the virtues of the most mundane activities. Dogen even went so far as to write an entire fascicle in the Shobogenzo called Senjo on how to use the toilet in a monastery. In it, he demonstrates that every activity is an opportunity for practice and that to view somethings as vile and unworthy is a mistake. I think Brad Warner said it best when he said that if you can’t bow down before the putrefying roadkill on the side of the highway then you have no business worshiping leather bound tomes and statues made of gold and silver. It is in that spirit and with the teachings of Dogen Zenji in mind that I present my take on using the toilet as a form of practice. Hopefully Dogen approves of the update.

The bathroom is the most necessary room in any home, temple, or other building. It is used the most often by the most number of people and when it is needed can not be substituted for any other room. It is for this reason that we should treat using the restroom as nothing other than the practice of Zen. Each time we take time to satisfy our body’s need to remove waste, we are offered an opportunity to practice and show gratitude. By using the toilet, we are demonstrating compassion toward ourselves and thereby showing kindness to all living beings.

When you need to use the restroom, proceed directly there as soon as you realize you need to go. Do not wait until you have to go so badly that you might have an accident or need to rush.

If the door to the toilet is closed, knock three times and wait for a response. If someone is using the restroom, take this time as an opportunity to practice standing zazen. Wait patiently and do not become agitated. If you do not wait too long to go to the bathroom, this should not be an issue. If there is no answer to your knocks, open the door, bow before entering, enter, and close the door behind you.

If you are wearing an Okesa or Rakusu, hang them on the hooks provided outside of the restroom. Do not take your sacred vestments into the toilet. While the waste coming out of you is none other than the Buddha’s face, it is still bad form to let your robes get dirty.

Once in the bathroom, bow to the toilet with hands in gassho. Remember, it is because the toilet does it’s job and does it well that you are able to free yourself of your waste with little effort. Anyone who has ever had a toilet not do its job properly can attest to how important it is. We should be grateful for its continued efforts.

If you are standing to use the toilet, be sure to lift both the lid and the seat. It is also very important to maintain your focus so as not to soil the outside of the toilet. If you do happen to get some waste in any other place than in the toilet, use toilet paper to clean the area so that it is clean and ready for the next person. Do not force others to deal with your waste because of your laziness and inattention.

Do not take reading material, cell phones, or other entertainment items to use the toilet. This is not a time to relax, but is instead a time to focus on tending to the needs of your body. Focus on what needs to be done and do it in an expedient manner, but also do not rush. Take the time that needs to be taken and no more. Remember, while you are in the restroom, others may be waiting.

Once you are done eliminating your waste, use toilet paper to clean yourself thoroughly. Use only enough paper to become clean and do not be wasteful. Remember, living beings gave up their lives so that you can be clean and free from waste. Honor this by using only what you need and nothing more.

After cleaning, flush the toilet and lower the lid and seat if necessary. As you flush, be grateful for the opportunity to free yourself of your waste and take care of your body. Bow with hands in gassho. You may choose to recite a short gatha. An example might be:

“As I flush away my waste, may I be reminded to flush away my delusions and attachments in the waters of the dharma.”

Wash your hands thoroughly with soap and water. Regardless of how or why you went to the bathroom, it is important to clean your hands so as not to spread any germs to others.

If the bathroom has an unpleasant smell, use a bathroom spray to restore the freshness to the room so that the next person will not have to endure the smell.

Upon exiting the restroom, bow to the room as you leave thanking it for being there and for helping you. Put on your robes and return to whatever it was you were doing remembering that to take time out to use the restroom is an important part of living and thus an important part of Zen.

Gassho,

Daishin

Samu - Work AS Practice

photo courtesy of M I R A on Flickr

Before I get started with this piece, I’d like to reiterate something that I think is extremely important. What you are about to read, listen to, or otherwise take in is my opinion on the subject based on my experiences, practice, and mentality. If you are looking for the absolutely, undeniably, no argument can be made, correct answer, I suggest you stop with this piece and go find another. There are many folks out there who will tell you that theirs is that answer, but I’m not one of them. I feel like this point needs to be clearly understood because ultimately there are no absolutely correct answers and what really matters is what you understand for yourself. With all that said, here’s my opinion on the topic of samu.

The term samu is often translated as “work practice”. Wikipedia has a very short article that says samu is “participation in the physical work needed to maintain the Zen monastery.” The idea of “work practice” as many use it is something along these lines. Work done to help the zendo or practice space. From where I sit, that’s an interesting definition but only hits on a really small part of the issue. Let me posit a better definition, “work AS practice”. This may seem like a really simple change, but it points to the intention that you hold while doing the work rather than what it is specifically that you are doing. From here, we have a much wider landscape of work that can fall into the term samu. Just for the sake of clarity, if the schedule during sesshin says samu, it is almost certainly pointing to the first definition, but outside of that context, the second definition is more useful.

So what is the intention that I’m talking about? To answer this, we need only look to our zazen practice as a guide. When we sit, we just sit. We don’t make grocery lists. We don’t visualize our spirit animals. We just sit. When we bring this single-minded focus from the cushion to our work, we can then call it samu, work as practice. Now this is much easier to do when the task to be done is relatively simple, which is why Zen centers tend to assign chores like polishing the Buddha (which just sounds weird), sweeping the floor, or scrubbing the toilet. These basic mostly physical tasks allow us to just do the work and let the mind be on the work until we become one with the task. This doesn’t mean it is impossible to do with more complex undertakings like office work, paying bills, or writing dharma talks. It’s just harder to establish and maintain our focus. Also, it’s worth pointing out that, just like zazen, we set out intention to work solely on the task at hand and then get distracted. This is not a problem. Just like zazen, when we notice that we have become distracted, we bring ourselves back to our task, over and over again until either the task is done or the period of samu ends.

After saying all this, I want to address two other points that often come up during the discussion of work and Buddhist practice. The first is what kinds of work can or should a Buddhist do. If you read what I said in the last paragraph and take it by itself outside of the envelope of the rest of Zen and Buddhism, you might come to the conclusion that a hitman could be doing samu when he kills someone so long as he maintains the proper focus on just killing. In fact, this argument pops up from time to time when folks want to argue about the dangers of mindfulness. We can teach mindfulness to soldiers and it will make them better killers. As I said a few sentences ago, to get to this point, you have to take what I said and remove it completely from the rest of Buddhism. Why? Because the first dang precept in Zen is Protect Life, Do Not Kill. To put it in more general terms, the Buddha was focused on the end of suffering and he created the Noble Eightfold Path as a way of living that supports the quest for the end of suffering and Right Livelihood is one of those folds. To put it yet another way using my favorite dirty glass metaphor, our practice is about letting the dirt in our glass settle so that we can see clearly. Killing and other such activities, no matter the mindset with which they are undertaken, have a tendency to add a lot of dirt to the glass and severely stir things up regardless of the reason. There’s an entire discussion to have regarding killing and precepts and whatnot which is not the subject of this piece so let’s move on for the moment.

The second point that I want to talk about is one that’s a little less controversial, but still seems to come up from time to time and that’s the subject of money. Dana is one of the perfections found in Buddhism. It is most often interpreted as “free giving” and is the subject of numerous books. What counts as free giving? What doesn’t? Often, folks want to tie the idea of dana to the idea of samu. I would argue that the two go hand-in-hand a lot, but be can’t inextricably linked and shouldn’t be. When we work to maintain our practice space, this form of samu is done with no thought of reward and therefore qualifies as dana under most strict definitions. But, when you really think about it, are you really working for free or is your payment for the work just non-monetary? Is the teacher freely giving a talk and are you freely giving your work? It’s an interesting question to ponder. And just to make things a little more confusing, our good buddy Dogen says in the Shobogenzo fascicle Four Elements of a Bodhisattva’s Social Relations that “earning a living and doing productive work are originally nothing other than free giving.” But we’re wandering away from the point a little here. The original discussion wasn’t about dana at all, but about samu, work as practice. Any work activity, done as a form of Zen practice, i.e., with single-minded focus and intention, can be a form of samu. Saying that you can’t get paid for it is just tacking on something that in my opinion wasn’t really part of the discussion to begin with. Now can it be called dana when you’re getting paid for it? That’s a different discussion.

To try and sum all this up, we spend a tremendous amount of time during our lives working in one form or another. Whether it is work for an employer or work to maintain our lifestyles, we are almost constantly working on something. I encourage all of us to use this time not only to make money and better our external situation, but also as an opportunity for practice. When we do what needs to be done, with focus and attention, our work becomes part of our practice and a much richer experience.

Gassho,

Daishin

Everything, Yes EVERYTHING is Impermanent

photo courtesy of James Webster on Flickr

I want to talk about a fundamental concept that still seems to elude the best of us from time to time. When the Buddha had his awakening, he saw clearly into a number of things and during his first sermon he discussed many of them including the doctrine that underlies so much of Buddhist practice, impermanence. What does impermanence mean? It means that nothing, absolutely nothing, not mountains or rivers or people or buildings or stars or anything remains unchanging and eternal. It means that everything changes no matter how solid it may seem. Let me say that one more time to drive home the point, nothing in this world stays the same and nothing lasts forever.

Before I start expounding on this idea, I want to beat the horse to death a little more. What are some of the things that we feel are unchanging? Mountains? Rivers? Stars? If we were to view each of these over a long enough span of time, would they change or stay the same? Part of what causes this delusion of permanence is that our lives are so short when compared to the incalculable eons of the Universe. What happens if we go the other direction? To a fruit fly who may only live for 24 hours, we may appear as completely unchanging and permanent. Does this mean that we are? From one point of view yes and from another no. It’s all in how you look at it.

Speaking of how you look at things, all this talk of things changing, coming into existence, and then passing away, seems like quite the downer. But is it really? It’s all in how you look at it. Both the good and the bad in Life pass with equal rapidity.

As the ancient Zen masters point out, when we realize that what we have is destined to go away, every moment becomes that much more precious. We are afforded only so many moments in this Life and when we truly understand that this time is indeed finite it only makes sense to cherish each moment. No matter how boring or how mundane. This is your life. Zazen affords us the opportunity to watch our lives unfold in front of us and when we learn to appreciate even the sheer banality of sitting and staring at a wall, our lives become much more rich.

But, just like everything else, this insight and realization fades. Which is why we practice. You do not accomplish the goal of Zen and then say ok I’m done and my life is fixed forever. Practice practice practice and then practice some more.

It is extremely important that you see the truth of impermanence for yourself. You can not simply go by the words of others or a mere intellectual understanding of the concept. You must experience it directly. The good news is that there is a way to do just that. The practice of zazen, which has been handed down through the generations from the Buddha to the present, allows us to really dig into the concept of impermanence in all its aspects. But how do you do that? How do you see it clearly? By paying close attention to the changing transient nature of the most basic experience of life, just sitting. The closer you look, the more you will see that each period is different, each moment is different. The pain in your legs will arise and then pass away. It will change. That sense of calm and clarity that you have at one moment will be gone just as quickly as it arrived. This is why we encourage you to not scratch every itch as soon as it arises or adjust your posture as soon as your legs begin to ache. Each of these is a powerful lesson in the arising and passing away of all things. And as you begin to look deeper and deeper, you may come to question the arising and passing away of so many things that you previously thought were solid, including your very sense of who and what you are. For if everything is impermanent and ever changing and you are part of everything then the only possible conclusion is that you are impermanent as well.

Gassho,

Daishin

Ungan's The Whole Body is Hand and Eye

photo courtesy of Mark Esguerra on Flickr

Almost anyone who has heard the word Zen knows or at least thinks they know about the Zen koan. These are illogical puzzles that are supposed to shake us out of our normal way of thinking and into a great awakening. Some of the most popular are “What is the sound of one hand clapping?” and “What was your original face before your parents were born?” or my personal favorite “If a tree falls on a mime in a forest, does he make a sound?” The word koan means public case and refers to a conversation between a master and student. For the most part, the intensive studying and answering of koans is confined to the Rinzai school of Zen, but that doesn’t mean that they are not read and loved by many Soto teachers, including Dogen. 

The two most prominent koan collections are the Mumonkan or Gateless Gate and the Hekiganroku or Blue Cliff Record. Often, a case is chosen from one of these two collections and used as the starting point for a Dharma Talk on the topic of the case. In that storied tradition and in honor of Kannon the Bodhisattva of Compassion, She Who Hears the Cries of the World, I present case 89 of the Hekiganroku “Ungan’s ‘The Whole Body is Hand and Eye’”.

But, because it wouldn’t be one of my talks if it stayed completely on the straight and narrow, I am using the paraphrase of this case done by Brad Warner in his book It Came From Beyond Zen which is a collection of paraphrases and commentaries on various parts of Dogen Zenji’s Shobogenzo. So what you’re getting is Brad’s version of Dogen’s version of Case 89 from the Blue Cliff Record. Enjoy!

Hekiganroku – Case 89 – Ungan’s The Whole Body is Hand and Eye 

Master Ungan Donjo asked Master Dogo Enchi. “What does Kannon, the Bodhisattva of Compassion, do with all her bazillions of hands and eyes?” 

Dogo said, “She is like someone reaching for a pillow in the middle of the night.”

Ungan said, “Right on. I get it.”

Dogo said, “How do you get it?”

Ungan said, “The entire body is hands and eyes.”

Dogo said, “Not bad. I give that answer a B+.”

Ungan said, “That’s my take on it. What’s yours, bro?”

Dogo said, “No matter where you go, it’s all hands and eyes.”

Compassion is a popular topic of discussion especially when it comes to Buddhism. Everyone has an opinion on what it means to be compassionate or what compassionate action looks like. Often, we think that if we are helping to alleviate someone’s suffering that we are doing something compassionate. But is that always true? Is what looks compassionate always compassion?

Rather than attempt to explain the entire case, I want to focus on just one line “She is like someone reaching for a pillow in the middle of the night.” As a side note, Dogen devotes an entire chapter of Shobogenzo called “Kannon” to this case and a broader discussion of compassion. If you’re interested, check out any of the standard translations or Brad’s It Came From Beyond Zen for in depth commentary and discussion.

Another quick aside, Kannon here is referred to as female. In the Heart Sutra, she is a he. “He clearly saw that the five aggregates are empty.” I feel that this is worth pointing out because to me it shows that compassion is a universal capacity that we all possess regardless of who or what we are.

Back to the discussion at hand. As a reminder the important phrase here is, “She is like someone reaching for a pillow in the middle of the night.” 

We have all had the experience of waking in the night to change sleeping positions. We fix what needs to be fixed, move our pillows and blankets, then get back to sleeping. This is the crucial point. In this case, we are doing what needs to be done in the moment without thinking about it. True compassion is doing what needs to be done in each moment regardless of what it might look like to an outside observer. And really, if you take this idea all the way to it’s conclusion, true compassion happens without thinking. Prajna Paramita. Wisdom beyond Wisdom.

In reading Dogen’s chapter on compassion, there is one other point that continually jumps out at me which is the idea of night and day. Dogen says “We should examine the difference between nighttime as it is supposed in the light of day and the nighttime as it is in the night.” In the daylight, we can see what needs to be done to fix a situation, but in the dark of night, the solution may not be so obvious. This is extremely important because often we comment on what the compassionate action is in a given situation from an outside position, a place of daylight assuming we understand the night. However, when we are in a situation, in the dark of night, what to do is not so clear. And what happens in a place that is neither completely day or completely night? When we begin to see the difference between night and day, we see how hard it is to judge anyone’s actions, but our own.

So what do we do with all this?  What do you think?

How the Universe Works...According to the Buddha: The Four Noble Truths

photo courtesy of saamiblog on Flickr

Once he made up his mind to teach, the Buddha had to get down to the business of explaining what he learned. The first sermon he gave is referred to as The First Turning of the Dharma Wheel...by people who give flowery names to things. In this talk, he expounded upon the truth of impermanence, the 12 Fold Chain of Dependent Origination, the Noble Eightfold Path, and the Four Noble Truths. All of these make up the core of Buddhism, but the Four Noble Truths really set the framework for Life, the Universe, and Everything. 

These four simple ideas have been expounded upon, debated, and reinterpreted by Buddhist scholars, monks, and lay practitioners for millenia. In this article, I don't plan on trying to come up with some new version. Instead, I want to talk about two different interpretations that I find compelling in different ways. As always, take from each what you find meaningful and leave the rest. 

The first version I’d like to tackle is the more or less standard interpretation that many people come across in Comparative Religion Class. According to this translation the Four Noble Truths are:

1. Suffering or Life is Suffering

2. The Cause of Suffering or The Cause of Suffering is Attachment or The Cause of Suffering is Desire

3. The End of Suffering or Nirvana or Enlightenment

4. The Path or The Noble Eight Fold Path

I want to start by acknowledging the obvious which is that number two has a couple of different versions right there. As I was writing this, I started thinking of all the different ways I’ve heard this one and just started writing them down...not entirely sure why, but I think they are each meaningful in their own way. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

The First Noble Truth in this version is a translation of the Sanskrit word dukkha which means suffering. Basically, the Buddha is saying that in this world of Samsara, the cycle of death and rebirth, there is suffering.

The Second Noble Truth is the cause of suffering which is a translation of the Sanskrit term samudaya. Most folks will go on to say something like what I’ve added to Number Two which is that this cause is our attachments or desires or cravings. 

The Third Noble Truth is that there is an end of suffering which is Nirvana or Enlightenment. Here the Sanskrit word being translated is nirodha which means cessation. In this case, the Buddha was most likely pointing to the cessation of the cycle of endless death and rebirth.

And lastly, the Fourth Noble Truth is the Noble Eightfold path which is how we get to Nirvana. Just for the record, the Sanskrit term here is magga meaning path.

This is the way that most of us first hear the Four Noble Truths and this version leads many especially from the outside to label the Buddha as a nihilist and Buddhism as a nihilistic religion that basically says life sucks and then you die. I would argue that what is happening is an issue of language rather than nihilism. This is especially true for the Second Noble Truth which seems to be telling us that the very act of caring about anything causes suffering. The two problematic words here are “suffering” and “attachment”.

Suffering is a problem because we tend to attach a lot of weight to this word that I don’t feel like was in the original meaning the Buddha intended. We say things like “He’s suffering from depression” or “Children in third world countries suffer from malnutrition". I don’t think this is quite what the Buddha was driving at. 

Attachment is also an issue because we think it means that we can’t like or love something. In my opinion, the Buddha was pointing to our desire for things to stay exactly as they are and never change. We don’t want the good things to end or the bad things to come and so we suffer. We want our new Harley to never get a scratch and so we suffer. With all this in mind, here is the version that I tend to use:

1. Life is inherently unsatisfactory.

2. It is unsatisfactory because we want it to be different than it is.

3. The way to be less dissatisfied is to accept things as they are.

4. The Noble Eightfold Path is a way to make all this easier.

This version of Number One comes from an alternate translation of the words the Buddha actually used. Dukkha could be read as suffering, but it could also be thought of as unsatisfactoriness. So maybe the Buddha was trying to get across the point that we will be disappointed in our lives and here’s why. It’s also important to note that the Buddha was also pointing to “unnecessary” suffering. As the t-shirts and coffee mugs like to say “pain is inevitable, suffering is optional”. 

Life is unsatisfactory because we can’t accept how it is. We want all the nice things and none of the bad. We want all the bright shiny things in our lives to never lose their luster. My favorite line on this idea comes from Dogen’s Shobogenzo. In the essay entitled “Genjo Koan” he says that “flowers while loved fall, weeds while hated flourish”. We can’t accept the weeds and so we suffer. 

Number Three points to the need for acceptance of things as they are. This doesn’t mean that we just stand idly by while bad things happen and do nothing. That mentality is one of the most irksome things that wannabe Buddhist try to adopt. They will attempt to have no preferences about anything because they think that’s what the Buddha meant. I believe that he meant for us to accept that things are the way they are and then do something about it. If someone brings me a shit sandwich instead of my tasty burger, I can suffer by getting all wound up about the situation or I can accept that this has occurred and then send the shit sandwich back with a demand for a better meal. Being Buddhist does not mean you have to be some kind of radical pacifist with no preferences.

Lastly, the Buddha gave us a path to follow in order to have less suffering and more peace or to put it in a more flowery way, to end suffering and attain Enlightenment. I personally don’t like to talk in these terms because A. I’m not entirely sure that there is anything that we can really call Enlightenment and even if there is, I don’t think it is something we can attain in the way you might attain a new car and B. when you start throwing around words like the big E, people get all confused and start coming up with all kinds of ideas and conceptions. Instead, I prefer to look at the Noble Eightfold Path as a guide for leading a life that facilitates Buddhist practice. When you follow the path, you simplify your life and remove the things that get in the way of practice. The same goes for the precepts. As Daiho likes to point out, the Buddha was only concerned with the end of suffering so if something didn’t help toward that end then it wasn’t worth doing.

So there you go. Two different versions of the foundational principle of Buddhism. Take a quick trip around the internet and you’ll find many more. As always though, what really matters is the version that you find meaningful and that has an impact on your life. Until you can make them your own, they are just words on paper spoken by someone who died 2500 hundred years ago. Once you make them your own, they become a living and vital part of your practice.

Gassho,

Daishin