Emotional suffering is the set of negative feelings generated by cravings for what we lack (money, power, prestige ...) and aversions to what surrounds us (unpleasant people, events or things). The reciprocal dreads—the fear to lose what we already possess and the fear to get what we repudiate—complete the portfolio of the causes to suffer emotionally. Inner harmony, on the other hand, is the absence of emotional suffering.
Twenty-five centuries ago the Buddha established that emotional suffering could be eliminated by the removal of its causes or origins; this statement became the core message of his doctrine. His teachings, due to the zeal of his followers, derived into a religion, the fourth largest in the world. Pragmatic Buddhism, the subset of Buddhism that excludes legends, rituals, and rebirths, focuses on the Buddha’s original goal: the eradication of emotional suffering.
Although it evolves from emotions, emotional suffering is not such state of mind. Emotional suffering is a feeling, more specifically, a background feeling. Neurologist Antonio Damasio makes a subtle distinction between emotions and feelings. Emotions are the body's reactions to certain external or internal stimuli (e.g., a threat or a remembrance). Feelings are the perceptions of such reactions, that is, the record the brain makes when it becomes aware of them. While almost simultaneous, emotions precede feelings. We do not perceive emotions; we perceive feelings.
Most feelings share their names with their associated emotions¬¬—love is both an emotion and a feeling. Emotions, however, may end up as a different kind of feeling; for example, anger might unusually evolve into euphoria. Furthermore, several emotions might “blend” to generate a sort of unified feeling with which they “resonate”. Dr. Damasio refers to this sensorial resonance as background feelings. It is background feelings what produces the general tone of our life. The potential to stop emotional suffering is at the interface between emotions and background feelings.
Background feelings, in general, can be sorted out as either positive or negative (you can do the same with emotions). Background feelings almost always manifest in opposing duos regardless where they come from: tension or relaxation, imbalance or balance; instability or stability; fatigue or energy. The first items of each pair (tension, imbalance...) characterize emotional suffering; the second (relaxation, balance...) typify inner harmony. Background feelings help define our mental states; they darken or brighten our existence.
Emotional suffering echoes the wide range of human negative emotions, from the simple imaginary concerns, through depressions and slumps en moral, to the most intense, evil bitterness. There are quite many harmful emotions such as anxiety, anguish, despair, hatred, jealousy and envy; in fact, there are more expressions for negative emotions than for positive ones.
The word "suffering" describes both physical and mental distress, hence comes the need for the "emotional" qualifier. Pain, or physical suffering, is sometimes unavoidable and its treatment often demands medication. Emotional suffering, being mental, is almost always optional; its handling seldom requires drugs (the exception are psychiatric disorders with a clear organic origin.) Pain management is not in the Pragmatic Buddhist agenda; emotional suffering, including the emotional distress that comes from pain, definitely is.
Inner harmony is reached by appeasing cravings and aversions. "When cravings and aversions are both absent, everything becomes perfectly clear," said Seng-Tsan, third Zen Chinese patriarch of Zen. Inner harmony is indirectly reached through "the blowing out of the fires of greed and hatred.” (This is the Buddhist definition of "nirvana"). Inner harmony comes from within and does not depend on external factors¬—this would make it outer harmony; inner harmony flourishes spontaneously when cravings and aversions go away.
The elimination of emotional suffering is a very personal undertaking with no need of masters or congregations. Inner harmony is not achieved by devotion to any creed, affiliation to any doctrine or practice of any ritual. Inner harmony is not pursued; it shows up when the noises of emotional suffering are silenced. When people search for inner harmony in sects, groups or ceremonies, they could be inadvertently giving it up... Or, at a minimum, they could be surrendering their influence over it to somebody else.
Gustavo Estrada
Author of HACIA EL BUDA DESDE EL OCCIDENTE
Monday, September 27, 2010
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
True Nature *
Michelangelo believed that images already existed in the blocks of marble as if they were locked. Before the first cut, he thought, the sculptor should first discover the idea within and then proceed to remove the excess stone. Michelangelo, so easy for him, just chipped away from the marble what was not statue.
In the same manner, our ego, our brain coded sense of identity, is like a huge stone, sometimes truly heavy; within that rock there also lies our true nature, our own piece of art. If we are to find it, as the great Italian Renaissance artist suggests for marbles, we also have to remove the excess. We do possess the skills to chip away what is not really us and, when we are done, we’ll experience life and everything else very differently.
Our true nature comes out spontaneously after silencing our conditioned reactions. We do not find it though personality tests or psychological inquiries because your answers to such trials come from the conditionings that already make up our ego. We do not develop, build or refine our true nature; it is already in there. Neither we come across it by doing gimmicks or learning routines; the process is more about quieting mental noise and unlearning mental habits.
Once Michelangelo removed the redundant fragments the harmony of his Pietà, his David or his Moses was magnificent. What will we find when we cut down the surplus of our ego stone? Well, within us, there is also harmony, the inner harmony of our true nature. We just have to remove the unnecessary.
Gustavo Estrada
http://innerpeace.sharepoint.com/Pages/aboutus.aspx
In the same manner, our ego, our brain coded sense of identity, is like a huge stone, sometimes truly heavy; within that rock there also lies our true nature, our own piece of art. If we are to find it, as the great Italian Renaissance artist suggests for marbles, we also have to remove the excess. We do possess the skills to chip away what is not really us and, when we are done, we’ll experience life and everything else very differently.
Our true nature comes out spontaneously after silencing our conditioned reactions. We do not find it though personality tests or psychological inquiries because your answers to such trials come from the conditionings that already make up our ego. We do not develop, build or refine our true nature; it is already in there. Neither we come across it by doing gimmicks or learning routines; the process is more about quieting mental noise and unlearning mental habits.
Once Michelangelo removed the redundant fragments the harmony of his Pietà, his David or his Moses was magnificent. What will we find when we cut down the surplus of our ego stone? Well, within us, there is also harmony, the inner harmony of our true nature. We just have to remove the unnecessary.
Gustavo Estrada
http://innerpeace.sharepoint.com/Pages/aboutus.aspx
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Confession of a Buddhist Atheist
The title of Confession of a Buddhist Atheist summarizes the three perspectives of his life that Stephen Batchelor wanted to share with his readers: his religiosity—confession is a statement of religious beliefs, his adhesion to the Buddha, and his atheism in the non-theism meaning of the word.
The “confession” as such is a detailed record of his spiritual evolution, which takes him to an enlightenment of a nature quite different from “the ‘standard’ mystical experiences of oneness with the universe”. Batchelor’s confession vividly describes the viability of embracing the religiosity of the Buddha’s Teachings without the dogmas of Buddhism and without renouncing to the goodies and beauties of life
The “ist” of the Buddhist that Batchelor became is much closer to the “ist” in those who play an instrument (pianist, violinist) than to the “ist” in the advocates of a doctrine (socialist, communist) or the fanatics of biased views (racist, chauvinist). You do not need sectarian opinions to play piano or violin, you just play; you don’t need beliefs for being Buddhist because being Buddhist is an experience, a way of living. In this book, the author, an impressive scholar, narrates his personal evolution and reconstructs the Buddha’s one; both journeys are described with abundant spiritual, historic and geographical detail. It is well known that there are no dates in the Pali Canon. Still the writer proposes a very interesting sequence of different events in the Buddha’s life; this is the first time I read a proposal for such sequencing. Even though the task involves much analysis and knowledge, Stephen Batchelor is humble enough to say that the source of the raw data already existed in the Dictionary of Pali Terms and that his role was simply “the joining up of the dots”. It was indeed much more than that.
To describe his cosmological/theological views, Stephen Batchelor seems to prefer the term “atheism” (again as non-theism) to “agnosticism” (the impossibility to know the ultimate reality) and avoids (probably on purpose) the word “spirituality”. I find the author’s view quite close to the atheist spirituality that French philosopher André Comte-Sponville defines as “our openness and connection to the infinite, the eternal and the absolute.” Either as non-theism or atheist spirituality, these renovated and renovating views, both Batchelor’s and Comte-Sponsville’s, are much needed in the modern, confusing world, which, though more secular every day, it does need spirituality. Such intellectual non-theisms imply the “tolerant radicalism” of Indian philosopher J. Krishnamurti (which Stephen Batchelor a kind of dislikes) and exclude the anti-theism of the “richarddawkinses” and “samharrises.”
There are quite a few interesting, historical events and anecdotes related in Batchelor’s book running from the Buddha’s time and life (which come from his knowledge and research) all the way to the Dalai Lama’s modern era (which are the fruit of his experience and direct interactions). The author’s enthusiasm for the beauty of the Teachings leads him to some overstatements. He says, for instance, that he has “yet to find a fragment of the Pali Canon that doesn’t further illuminate the whole.” (I find this exaggerated; many parts of the Canon are not only repetitive and boring but also obscure and with observations in contradiction with other sections.) These are minor spots that in no way reduce the quality of “Confession of a Buddhist Atheist.” The book is an excellent reading not only for newcomers in search of non-affiliated view in the Teachings and for already faithful, open minded religious Buddhists but also an illuminating perspective for agnostics, atheists, pragmatics, skeptics and independent inquisitive minds of all kinds.
Gustavo Estrada
Author of HACIA EL BUDA DESDE EL OCCIDENTE
The “confession” as such is a detailed record of his spiritual evolution, which takes him to an enlightenment of a nature quite different from “the ‘standard’ mystical experiences of oneness with the universe”. Batchelor’s confession vividly describes the viability of embracing the religiosity of the Buddha’s Teachings without the dogmas of Buddhism and without renouncing to the goodies and beauties of life
The “ist” of the Buddhist that Batchelor became is much closer to the “ist” in those who play an instrument (pianist, violinist) than to the “ist” in the advocates of a doctrine (socialist, communist) or the fanatics of biased views (racist, chauvinist). You do not need sectarian opinions to play piano or violin, you just play; you don’t need beliefs for being Buddhist because being Buddhist is an experience, a way of living. In this book, the author, an impressive scholar, narrates his personal evolution and reconstructs the Buddha’s one; both journeys are described with abundant spiritual, historic and geographical detail. It is well known that there are no dates in the Pali Canon. Still the writer proposes a very interesting sequence of different events in the Buddha’s life; this is the first time I read a proposal for such sequencing. Even though the task involves much analysis and knowledge, Stephen Batchelor is humble enough to say that the source of the raw data already existed in the Dictionary of Pali Terms and that his role was simply “the joining up of the dots”. It was indeed much more than that.
To describe his cosmological/theological views, Stephen Batchelor seems to prefer the term “atheism” (again as non-theism) to “agnosticism” (the impossibility to know the ultimate reality) and avoids (probably on purpose) the word “spirituality”. I find the author’s view quite close to the atheist spirituality that French philosopher André Comte-Sponville defines as “our openness and connection to the infinite, the eternal and the absolute.” Either as non-theism or atheist spirituality, these renovated and renovating views, both Batchelor’s and Comte-Sponsville’s, are much needed in the modern, confusing world, which, though more secular every day, it does need spirituality. Such intellectual non-theisms imply the “tolerant radicalism” of Indian philosopher J. Krishnamurti (which Stephen Batchelor a kind of dislikes) and exclude the anti-theism of the “richarddawkinses” and “samharrises.”
There are quite a few interesting, historical events and anecdotes related in Batchelor’s book running from the Buddha’s time and life (which come from his knowledge and research) all the way to the Dalai Lama’s modern era (which are the fruit of his experience and direct interactions). The author’s enthusiasm for the beauty of the Teachings leads him to some overstatements. He says, for instance, that he has “yet to find a fragment of the Pali Canon that doesn’t further illuminate the whole.” (I find this exaggerated; many parts of the Canon are not only repetitive and boring but also obscure and with observations in contradiction with other sections.) These are minor spots that in no way reduce the quality of “Confession of a Buddhist Atheist.” The book is an excellent reading not only for newcomers in search of non-affiliated view in the Teachings and for already faithful, open minded religious Buddhists but also an illuminating perspective for agnostics, atheists, pragmatics, skeptics and independent inquisitive minds of all kinds.
Gustavo Estrada
Author of HACIA EL BUDA DESDE EL OCCIDENTE
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Suffering
The proper definition of some Pragmatic Buddhism’s terms is essential for its comprehension. Though certain clarifications might look redundant at times, we offer them because Pragmatic Buddhism, as most any knowledge area, has its own terminology—a sort of restricted vocabulary—that is a requirement to introduce the subject. We chose to do so rather than using eastern languages’ vocabulary that would, in any case, require translations and explanations. Furthermore, English words have an average of three different meanings each and the usage of some expressions of Pragmatic Buddhism does not accurately match any of the alternatives in the dictionary.
Let us begin our glossary with the word “suffering.” We use “suffering” in this blog because it is the most accepted translation of the original term in Buddhist texts. Most scholars agree that no English word is exactly equivalent to what the Buddha meant by suffering. The explanation that follows will clarify it. There are a number of rough synonyms of the "suffering" under consideration, such as anguish, discomfort, dissatisfaction, distress, frustration, sorrow and stress; none of them provide the exact sense of Buddhist “suffering.”
For Pragmatic Buddhism, suffering is the whole range of human anxieties from “tolerable” cravings, dislikes and worries, through “problematic” addictions, hatreds and depressions, to “clinical” disorders such as dependence, phobias and compulsive behaviors. Suffering runs from Henry David Thoreau’s “quiet desperation, led in their lives by the mass of men,” to the agonizing misery of those who have totally lost the control of their existence.
Two additional remarks help in the understanding of this thorny item. Suffering covers all the difficulties and uncertainties that characterize life activities including those which that, by their very nature, are or should be expected to be pleasant or interesting. We all know from firsthand experience that some positive and favorable situations, such as a new job assignment, the preparations for a celebration or the initiation of a romantic relationship, lead to or predispose a certain degree of anxiety and are likely to create difficult moments; such anxiety is one of the manifestations of suffering for Buddhism. Still the challenges of a job promotion, the preliminaries of a party or the charms of a potential romance are not "western" suffering, in the common use of this word.
Furthermore, Pragmatic Buddhism differentiates suffering from pain—grief from ache. Suffering, as we use it here, is mental—an intellectual process, a product of the mind—as opposed to pain, which is physical—a corporal process, the result of something wrong in our body. While pain is often unavoidable, suffering is always optional.
The reduction and eventual elimination of this suffering, which we hope it is clearly defined and delimited now, is the agenda of Pragmatic Buddhism.
Let us begin our glossary with the word “suffering.” We use “suffering” in this blog because it is the most accepted translation of the original term in Buddhist texts. Most scholars agree that no English word is exactly equivalent to what the Buddha meant by suffering. The explanation that follows will clarify it. There are a number of rough synonyms of the "suffering" under consideration, such as anguish, discomfort, dissatisfaction, distress, frustration, sorrow and stress; none of them provide the exact sense of Buddhist “suffering.”
For Pragmatic Buddhism, suffering is the whole range of human anxieties from “tolerable” cravings, dislikes and worries, through “problematic” addictions, hatreds and depressions, to “clinical” disorders such as dependence, phobias and compulsive behaviors. Suffering runs from Henry David Thoreau’s “quiet desperation, led in their lives by the mass of men,” to the agonizing misery of those who have totally lost the control of their existence.
Two additional remarks help in the understanding of this thorny item. Suffering covers all the difficulties and uncertainties that characterize life activities including those which that, by their very nature, are or should be expected to be pleasant or interesting. We all know from firsthand experience that some positive and favorable situations, such as a new job assignment, the preparations for a celebration or the initiation of a romantic relationship, lead to or predispose a certain degree of anxiety and are likely to create difficult moments; such anxiety is one of the manifestations of suffering for Buddhism. Still the challenges of a job promotion, the preliminaries of a party or the charms of a potential romance are not "western" suffering, in the common use of this word.
Furthermore, Pragmatic Buddhism differentiates suffering from pain—grief from ache. Suffering, as we use it here, is mental—an intellectual process, a product of the mind—as opposed to pain, which is physical—a corporal process, the result of something wrong in our body. While pain is often unavoidable, suffering is always optional.
The reduction and eventual elimination of this suffering, which we hope it is clearly defined and delimited now, is the agenda of Pragmatic Buddhism.
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